The Purring Page

Moira stared at the shiny silver button in the palm of her hand. It felt ice-cold against her skin. Around her, the tea shop was completely quiet. The warm smell of old paper, rosemary, and sweet chamomile hung in the air, but the feeling of safety was gone.”Someone from the theater was inside my shop,” Moira said softly.Altea took the unlit cigar out of her mouth. Her eyes were sharp. “And they were close enough to drop that. They are watching us, Moira. The smiling serpent.”Marisa shivered and rubbed the arms of her perfectly clean white coat. “This means the killer knows we found the mint wrapper in the dressing room. They followed us back here.”Up on the tall wooden shelf, Toe the black cat let out a low meow. He flicked his tail, looking proud of his discovery. On the velvet armchair, Ashwaganda the ginger cat simply stretched and went back to sleep.Moira looked down at the old, blue leather book on the counter. The silver ink on the pages seemed to glow in the dim light. The true serpent does not sweat; it merely smiles from the stage.”Marcello the director was sweating,” Moira said, thinking out loud. “He was scared. But the real killer is calm. We need to find out who lost this button.””Then we must go where the actors eat,” Altea said with a firm nod. “Anna’s Coffee Taverna is closed, so they must be at the village inn. Let us go.”The three friends left the warm sanctuary of the tea shop. The evening air in Speranza was cool. The sun was going down, painting the sky in deep shades of purple and orange. They walked down the quiet stone streets until they reached the inn.Inside, the room was loud and crowded. The theater group sat around a large wooden table, drinking wine and eating warm bread. Marcello was in the corner, still wiping his wet forehead with a dirty cloth.Moira, Altea, and Marisa sat at a small table near the wall. They ordered three glasses of water and watched carefully.”Look at Luca,” Marisa whispered, pointing slightly. The young actor looked very nervous. His clothes were messy, and he kept looking at the door. “But his buttons are made of cheap wood.”Then, the door to the dining room opened. Isabella, the lead actress, walked in.The whole room seemed to go quiet. She was beautiful, but her eyes were cold and hard. She smiled at the group—a perfect, bright smile that did not reach her eyes.”Hello, my dear friends,” Isabella said smoothly. “Such a sad day for our play. Poor Marco.”She did not look sad at all. She walked to the table and took off her elegant dark blue velvet jacket.Moira leaned forward. Her heart beat faster.On the sleeves of Isabella’s jacket were rows of shiny silver buttons. But as Isabella reached out to pour a glass of red wine, Moira saw it clearly. Right at the end of her right sleeve, a single silver button was missing.”It is her,” Moira whispered to her friends.Altea smiled a tight, grim smile. “The smiling serpent.”Isabella took a sip of her wine and slowly turned her head. Across the noisy room, her cold eyes locked right onto Moira. Isabella’s smile grew a little wider.The killer knew exactly who they were. And the real game was just beginning.