The Revelation of Dacey Sinnett

Chapter Four: Marcus von Rottal

'Mysterious Murders Sweep Montmartre'

"This had better not ruin attendance.", Monsieur Taavetti Guillory grumbled as he crumpled the edges of the newspaper within his unweilding tense grip. The headline splashed across the front page was more of an annoyance to him than an actual state of alarm.

"The threat of death has never kept the children of the night from having a good time.", Dacey remarked with a smirk of amusement at his employer's lack of priorities. He was seated on his wooden bench, Taavetti leaning against the side of the piano reading the paper, as he tied, untied, and retied a crimson bowtie at his neck.

Dacey was unsure of how he'd like to present himself to the man in blue tonight. His plan was to lure him in by ignoring him entirely. It was a bold move that nearly always worked on other conquests but he was uncertain how effective it would be on the man as he had no telepathic reference to what his actual inclinations were. Eventually, Dacey decided to remove the bowtie altogether and unbutton the collar of his black shirt unnecessarily low.

Taavetti spied this development over the top of the paper as he flipped the page.

"The men here don't come to see your décolletage.", he derided with delectation.

"One does.", Dacey countered simply.

"There's always one.", Taavetti rolled his eyes as he folded up the paper. "Focus on putting on a fantastic show and worry less about admirers, Sinnett. You'll find you garner more that way."

"I intend to take that advice.", Dacey looked up at the older man with a gleefully mischievous smile.

"Let's hope the next victim of this Montmartre Murderer isn't our ticket sales.", added Taavetti as he strolled offstage, leaving the paper laying crumpled upon the top of the piano.

Dacey grasped it in an effort to tidy up and glanced with mild interest at the front page article. So it seemed that a killer was in their midst. He'd overheard some of the women talking about it earlier during rehearsals. The new dance number was a force to be reckoned with and apparently that reckoning came at the hands of fear. Over the past few nights, three bodies, all with identical wounds, had been found abandoned in the district. The police weren't releasing many details as they said the causes of death were all very peculiar and the incidents were under strict classified investigation. The paper reported them as stab wounds but word of mouth was that they more resembled bite marks. One of the women had speculated there could be a wild animal loose in the city but another quickly pointed out that the bodies might have also been maimed in a more horrific manner if such were the case. Kalet had remarked that nothing could possibly be more horrific than the idea of a man biting another man to death.  At which point, Taavetti had shouted at all of them to shut up and dance.

Dacey tossed the paper back behind the stage and refocused his efforts on looking as handsome as possible. He had his own plan of attack to worry about. Drawing his admirer in with a game of sublime disinterest.

* * *

Murderer be damned. Dacey had been correct on two instances. One: Attendance was not dampened in the least by the grisly news in the papers. Two: He had successfully manipulated the man in blue.

He wasn't sure of the latter until after the show ended, of course. During the performance he was able to dissuade himself from the burning desire to steal a glance at the handsome man by instead focusing all of his attention on Kalet and the other dancers. He offered them overly exaggerated grins and nods of approval as he played each whimsical song one after another. His own theatrical shenanigans seemed to ignite the audience into being even more enthusiastic as they cheered and whistled louder with each dance number; as if the more boisterous they were, the more clothes might come off. They weren't entirely incorrect.