Butterfly Palace

by Coble, Colleen

  “I will.” She smiled at Emily’s conspiratorial wink. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

  When Emily retreated back to the stairs, Lily twisted the knob and stepped into the Marshall bedroom. The scent of roses hung in the air. She turned on the gaslight and looked around. The bed was enormous and covered with a gray silk coverlet. The polished oak floorboards gleamed. Several massive dressers provided plenty of room for belongings. Another door was on the far left, and she caught a glimpse of a big claw-foot tub. It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek at the big bathroom.

  She stepped to the door and glanced around. The room had two gleaming porcelain sinks fitted with shiny brass faucets. It was impeccably clean. She retreated and headed for the closet at the other end of the room. When she opened it, the scent of roses grew stronger.

  The beautiful clothing was a pleasure to touch, but Lily pushed the dresses to the side to allow in enough light to see. She found the wrap hanging on a hook, but when she took it down, it fell to the floor. She grabbed at it and dislodged a small flat box on one of the shelves along the back. The lid fell off, and when she knelt to retrieve the box, she caught a glimpse of blue.

  She carried the box out into the light where she could see it better. The missing butterfly lay nestled in silk inside. She gasped, and her throat tightened. Mr. Marshall had had the butterfly all along, yet he’d blamed Jane for its disappearance.

  She glanced around the room and realized there was another closet. After laying the box on the bed, she went to the door and opened it. It contained only men’s clothing. She stared back at the butterfly. That meant Mrs. Marshall had taken the butterfly and hidden it from her husband. Why would she do that when he was searching for it so frantically?

  She went back to the bed and picked up the butterfly in its box. What should she do about this?

  If she took it and returned it to Mr. Marshall, it would be her word against Mrs. Marshall’s as to where it was found. She could replace it, then send him a note telling him where it was. But would he think someone had implicated his wife on purpose?

  She rubbed her head. If only Drew were here to help her figure out what to do.

  The floorboards outside the door creaked, and she whirled around. “Hello?” Her voice shook, and she clutched the box in her hands. No answer. Maybe it was just the house shifting.

  The clock on the bedside dinged the time. Nine thirty. Mr. Marshall would be wondering where she was. What if she hid the butterfly in her room? No one would look there, and she could tell Emily what she’d found. It would be corroboration.

  Her mind made up, she opened the door. A figure loomed from the shadows, and her gaze traveled up the male suit to the man’s face. “Mr. Lambreth, you frightened me. What are you doing here?”

  He was smiling when his gaze traveled to the box in her hand. “I told Mother you were too smart and would be sure to find it. I love being right.”

  His tone was deceptively mild, and Lily relaxed until his words penetrated. “You knew Mrs. Marshall took this?”

  “Actually, I took it. She just hid it.”

  “But why?”

  “She knew it would rattle Everett, and he would be easily disposed of.”

  “You killed Mrs. Karr, not Jane.”

  “She caught me taking the butterfly. She wasn’t my type, but I had no choice.”

  She backed away as he approached, then whirled and rushed back into the bedroom she’d just vacated. She tried to slam the door, but his foot came between the door and the jamb. Struggling, she tried to hold the door closed, but he was too strong for her and the door flew open. She staggered back and fell onto the floor.

  He loomed over her. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, Lily. I really did like you.”

  She edged away. “And the attack in the churchyard? Was that you? Why in a holy place?”

  “I was having trouble getting to you, so it was expedient.” He heaved a sigh. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be disposed of. I’d hoped you’d be different. You’re just like my mother, so sweet and pretty on the outside and quite wanton on the inside. I saw the way you kissed Hawkes, you know. Like you couldn’t get enough of him. My mother can’t get enough of men either. Come along and don’t make a fuss.”

  She opened her mouth to scream, but he leaped forward and pressed some horrible-smelling cloth to her nose. His face wavered, then her vision went dark.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  The party tempo increased when Everett’s election win was announced. Drew kept an eye out for Lily, but she still hadn’t returned by ten o’clock. Something was wrong.

  He wound his way through the celebrating crowd to find Belle. “Have you seen Lily?”

  Belle’s cheeks were pink with excitement. “I haven’t seen her. Isn’t it wonderful though?”

  “Splendid. Where’s your aunt?”

  “Oh, she’s around somewhere, I’m sure. Any sign of an attack on Uncle Everett?”

  “It’s been calm.” Drew spied a familiar figure. “If you see Lily, tell her I’m looking for her.” He circled around the hall to intercept Ian, who seemed to be heading for the door.

  “Wait up, Ian.”

  Ian stopped by the punch bowl. “You seem to have everything under control here. Well done, Drew.”

  “What about the conspirators? Have they made a move elsewhere yet?”

  Ian shook his head. “I’ve gotten word Vesters called it off last night. He didn’t want to bring any more attention to Jane’s story. He feared Marshall’s death would bring more focus on the family.”

  “Nice of you to let me know. You’ve disappointed me, Ian. I respected you and looked up to you like a father.”

  Ian put his hand on Drew’s arm. “Son, it was nothing personal. I was looking out for my country.”

  Drew stared at the hand on his arm until Ian removed it. “You let me believe a lie. It’s shaken my confidence.”

  “I’m sorry for that.” Ian’s gaze was level. “Ballard should deliver the conspirators to us this week. He’s got nearly all their names. Once we have them in custody, I hope you and I can sit down with Ballard and talk this all out. I don’t want to lose you, Drew.”

  Drew gave a bark of laughter. “I’m hardly an asset. I’ve been chasing my own tail for years and didn’t know it.”

  “You’ve brought a lot of men to justice, son. Don’t lose sight of how valuable you are to your country. Give this some time to settle.”

  “Where’s Ballard now?”

  Ian shrugged. “I think he’s probably protecting Lily. He followed her out of here.”

  Though he knew Ballard was one of them, Drew’s gut churned. He’d been suspicious of the man for too many years, and he wasn’t even too sure of Ian anymore. “I don’t like it that he’s gone after her. Could you go check it out?”

  “I told you, Ballard is one of us. I’m sorry I caused you to distrust him all these years, but let it go.” Ian turned away.

  Drew wandered through the crowd trying to ignore the mounting sense of worry. Ian had full faith in Ballard, but what about those knives used to attack the women? Drew had seen them with his own eyes, and he was sure Ballard had made those weapons. What implications did that have? Was it possible Ballard had deceived Ian?

  He mingled with the crowd and saw Mrs. Marshall from a distance. She didn’t have her wrap on, so clearly Lily hadn’t returned. By now it was ten fifteen. The party would be winding down in another hour or so.

  Mrs. Adams, her hat on and her purse in hand, paused to smile at him. “I hope I didn’t upset Lily.”

  He’d barely listened when Lily talked about their conversation. “What do you mean?”

  “That talk about Christopher torturing the rat.” She shuddered delicately. “I’m surprised he didn’t come to a bad end, but I spoke with him tonight, and he seems perfectly normal.” She laid her gloved hand on his arm. “Anyway, tell her I’m sorry if I upset her.”

  He watched her join her husband and make their good-b
yes. Tortured a rat? He recalled a book he’d read by a German psychiatrist about killers. The book had mentioned torture of animals. Christopher was living in the house. He could have found the secret passages. Drew’s unease grew. He returned to Mr. Marshall’s side but found no one around who appeared suspicious. If not for his duty to protect Marshall, Drew would go in search of Lily right now.

  By ten thirty every nerve was on high alert. He couldn’t stand around any longer. Ian had said Marshall was in no danger tonight, but Drew feared Lily might be. He set his jaw and headed for the door, stopping only long enough to tell Ian where he was going. Marshall had come here of his own free will. Drew had to find Lily and make sure she was all right.

  He took the trolley and rode to a block from the house. Five minutes later he stood in front of the Butterfly Palace. It was shrouded in darkness except for a hall light burning. Inside, he called for her. “Lily!” Her bag was on the hall table. He strode through the house searching for her and yelling out her name.

  Upstairs, he hurried to the master bedroom and looked inside. The closet door still hung open, but there was no sign of Lily. A brown silk wrap lay on the floor. His unease flared to raw fear. Lily would never have left the bedroom in this state.

  “Mr. Hawkes?”

  He turned to see Emily in the hall. “Have you seen Lily?”

  Her eyes wide, she nodded. “She was here a bit earlier to fetch a wrap for Mrs. Marshall.”

  He swept his arm around the room. “She left the wrap here.”

  Emily stared past him. “She would have closed the door and straightened the room.”

  “Exactly. And her bag is downstairs. Did you hear anything else? Any voices?”

  “Just Mr. Lambreth. I heard his voice once, but I didn’t see him.”

  Drew sagged against the wall. “Christopher might be the man who murdered Jane and all the other servant girls.”

  Lily struggled to breathe. Something pinned her arms to her sides, and she couldn’t see anything in the suffocating darkness. She knew she was in the labyrinth of the house somewhere because she could smell the damp and the mouse droppings. She lay on something hard and cold, perhaps the ground, though it was too dark to see.

  Mr. Lambreth. He’d put something over her face to render her unconscious. Chloroform? And what was he planning? Panic closed her throat, and she struggled but made no headway. Her arms were pinned to her sides. She flexed her wrists and encountered rough rope.

  Think, Lily!

  She calmed herself and tried to sense where she was. Could she free herself? There was a bit of give in the bonds. She flexed her arms again and felt the ropes loosen. Encouraged, she tried again and managed to free her left wrist. Her hand felt numb and tingly, but she reached over and wrenched her right wrist free, then sat up. Feeling her way in the darkness, she realized she was on a narrow cot of some kind.

  She staggered to her feet, her head swimming. She was too dizzy and disoriented to know where she was going, but she managed to stumble a few feet until she ran into the cold wall. It was earthen, so it was different from other areas she’d been in. Her eyes began to adjust to the dark, and she saw a glow to her left.

  Mr. Lambreth’s gleeful voice came from her left. He was smiling in the light of the lantern in his hand. “I see you, Lily. You can’t escape me. I’ve been waiting for this moment. The others were much too fast with no time to enjoy the moment. This will be different.”

  He is the killer.

  Her throat closed, and she pushed deeper into the shadows.

  “You can’t hide from me.”

  His feet scuffed along the floor, and she sidled along the wall. It was too dark to see well. He must be like a cat, able to see in dim light. She kept her eye on the bobbing lantern. It quit moving, and she took a few more rapid steps away. Then a hand grabbed her by the hair. It felt like he was yanking her hair out by its roots, and a scream tore from her lungs.

  “Let go of me!” She grabbed his arm and dragged it to her mouth, then bit down as hard as she could until the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.

  He swore and yanked his arm away. “You’ll be very sorry you did that, Lily.”

  The steely intent in his voice made her quail. She didn’t intend to die easily. Not before she had a chance to tell Drew she understood what he’d been trying to tell her. Not before she turned into the person she should be.

  While he tended to his arm, she took off blindly running along the labyrinth floor. Christopher’s footsteps pounded after her, closer and closer. With his hot breath on her neck, she stumbled over a hole in the path and went down into a pit filled with water. Pain shot up from her knee.

  “Gotcha.” His hands came down on her shoulders, and he dragged her to her feet. She gave a despairing scream though there was no one to hear. “Why did you kill Jane? And those other women? They did nothing to you.”

  A cruel smile twisted his lips. In the lamplight, his pale blue eyes were like ice chips. “While I quite enjoyed their deaths, yours will be more pleasurable since I’ve admired you so long.” Keeping one hand on her arm, he held a knife up in the lamplight. “I had this one made just for you.”

  She screamed and broke free of his grip, but not for long.

  Drew’s gut told him Lily was in grave danger and there was no time to spare. He went to the kitchen and ran his hands over the wall where he’d seen the panel door in the pantry. It was dark in the space, so he felt around until he found the lever. When he pulled it, the panel groaned and opened much too slowly for the urgency he felt.

  He grabbed the lantern on the kitchen table and stepped into the blackness. The closed air tasted stale and flat. The ceiling was relatively clean from the last time he and Lily had come through. Where would Lambreth have taken her? Instinct turned him right, toward the tunnel through the backyard. The path ran downward, and the chill in the air became more pronounced as he walked underground.

  There was a T in the labyrinth. To the right would take him to the old shack where Jane had died, but something made him turn to the left. It was the only unexplored part of the tunnels. With the lantern held high, he hurried along. There were no cobwebs, so someone had been in the tunnel recently. It narrowed until his shoulders brushed both sides and he had to bend over.

  As the tunnel narrowed even more, he decided to turn back. This wasn’t getting him any closer to Lily. Then he heard a scream up ahead. He jerked and thumped his head against the ceiling. Gritting his teeth to keep from calling out her name, he pushed through the narrow space. Four feet later the walls were wider and the ceiling higher. A wash of air cooled his face.

  He saw a pinpoint of light ahead and quickly extinguished his lantern before he could be seen. With his gun in his hand, he crept forward. Dancing shadows turned into two figures struggling in the light of a lamp sitting on a table. Christopher had his arm around Lily’s neck in a choke hold from behind. She thrashed and tore at the forearm cutting off her air.

  They were too close for Drew to be able to fire off a shot without the risk of hitting Lily. And he had no other weapon other than the lantern. It would have to do. Christopher’s back was to him, and Drew rushed toward the struggling couple. Christopher must have sensed they weren’t alone because he let go of Lily and turned. Lily fell to the ground.

  It was too late to stop Drew’s onward momentum. With the lantern high overhead, he brought it down on Christopher’s head. The glass shattered, and the acrid odor of kerosene filled the enclosed space.

  The blow only knocked Christopher backward. He growled and leaped at Drew with bared teeth. The scent of mint washed over Drew, and he grabbed Christopher by the neck. The two toppled to the floor with Drew atop Christopher.

  A red mist came down over Drew’s vision. All he wanted was to choke the life out of the monster. Christopher bucked under him, then he got his knee up and shoved Drew off. In an instant he had his hands wrapped around Drew’s neck. The man’s strength was almost demonic, and he wore a
n expression of intense glee.

  The insane light in Christopher’s eyes faded, and he slumped off Drew. Drew looked up into Lily’s face. Her eyes wide, she stared at the blood on her hands. He glanced over at Christopher and saw one of Ballard’s fancy knives protruding from his back.

  When Drew got to his feet, Lily rushed into his arms. He held her trembling body close. “It’s okay. He can’t hurt you any longer.”

  She shuddered and burrowed closer. “He killed Jane. And the other women.”

  “I know. He was a monster. I want to find out what Ballard knows about him. That’s one of Ballard’s special knives. He only made them for friends.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  The party was deadly dull now that the best people had left. Belle’s face hurt from smiling and accepting congratulations on her uncle’s election. Mr. Hawkes’s worry about Lily had transferred to her, and she watched the clock. By eleven the party began to wind down, and she was eager to get home and see what had happened to her maid.

  Only a handful of people were left as the clock neared eleven thirty. Belle walked over to the food table. She was parched, and some punch would be most welcome. The servants had begun to extinguish the gaslights, and the table was shrouded in darkness since most of the food was gone. No punch remained. She turned to survey the hall and see who was still left.

  An older gentleman had hovered near her uncle’s shoulder all evening, and Belle suspected he worked with Mr. Hawkes to protect her uncle. Vesters hadn’t wandered far from her uncle’s side, but Belle was sure he would not be courageous enough to try to kill her uncle himself. So who was left in the hall that might be dangerous?

  Her gaze traveled around the room and discounted the elderly couple she’d known all her life who hovered near the door. Her aunt’s best friend and her husband were no threat. She walked toward the red velvet curtains that dressed up the hall. The servants did their work behind the scenes here, and it was possible a sniper lurked there. And she might be able to get a glass of punch. There were no servants behind the curtain, only her aunt.