"There's a hundred explanations more likely than a gold-digging Banshee, Fitzroy." Mike bitched, casting a glare over his shoulder.
Henry frowned, but Vicki ticked off the list on her fingers. "Four men, all rich, all dead at the opera, two with bleeding from the ears."
"Well, yeah. But rich and old goes with opera, and they all hit the ground when they fell. I don't think this is one of your cases. Our cases."
Vicki flapped her hands in a futile effort to make her nail polish dry faster. "Dr Mohadevan said there was no damage consistent with the ear bleeds."
"She also said they all had pacemakers. Maybe there's an electrical field that interfered and stopped their hearts." Mike yanked at his lop-sided bow tie in a futile effort to get it to look anything like a bow.
Henry cut in. "But the four richest patrons, in order of wealth? And a hundred witnesses in the Four Seasons Centre hearing a distant, high-pitched sound before the men died?"
"Ah, shut up, Fitzroy. You just wanted to get Vicki in a dress again."
"She does look magnificent."
Vicki gave Henry the finger, but Mike thought she really was beautiful in her deep blue velvet dress, her glasses sparkling in the annoyingly diffuse light of Fitzroy's apartment.
Henry stepped up behind Mike and slid his arms around Mike's chest, pushing Mike's hands away from the bow tie so that he could start the whole thing afresh.
"I can tie my own damn tie!" Mike snapped, but he didn't push Henry's cold fingers away.
"I want you to look just as magnificent," Henry smiled, and with a flurry of motion, Mike's tie sat perfectly symmetrical, and Henry's hands were smoothing down Mike's ruffled shirtfront. "There."
Vicki blew on her fingernails. "I am never taking Coreen's advice on make-up again. This stuff is still goopy, and if we don't go soon, we're not going to have time to snoop around before the opera starts."
Henry peered at them. "Don't worry. They'll dry in moments once we get out in the cold."
Mike opened his mouth to comment but Vicki jumped in first. "You do not get to cast aspersions on Henry's manliness once you're sleeping with him! Seriously!"
"You've made more than a few jokes about my manliness!"
Vicki shrugged, then grinned. "Yeah, but you're cute when you bristle."
Henry took Vicki's arm, carefully avoiding her wet fingernails. "Shall we?" He offered his other arm to Mike, who rolled his eyes, but took it, and reached over to hold the door open for the other two.
"Oh, and Fitzroy? This isn't the movies – you don't get to sit on my lap when you get scared."
Henry smirked. "That's okay – I'm not the one who's scared of opera. You can sit on mine."