City of Secrets

by Victoria Thompson

  “Of course I am. You were here when we discussed it, and you saw the mortgage documents.”

  “Yes, I did, but I have subsequently discovered that Mr. and Mrs. Knight actually owned two houses.”

  “Two?”

  “Yes, Mr. Knight’s family home and the home Mrs. Knight inherited from her first husband.”

  Honesdale was obviously beginning to understand. “And which one does Mrs. Knight live in?”

  “The one she inherited from her first husband.”

  “And let me guess: I own the mortgage on Knight’s family home.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Did you know this when we met?”

  “No, I did not. Mrs. Knight believed Mr. Knight had sold his family’s home when they married, so she believed the house she lives in was the only one they owned. When she was told her home was mortgaged, she believed it was the one in which she lives. I only discovered the misunderstanding by accident on Saturday. I had made note of the address on the mortgage documents you showed me, and when I went to call on Mrs. Knight at that address, I found the house sitting empty.”

  Matthew Honesdale was not stupid, and he must also have been cunning, so he could easily suspect others of cunning as well. He was obviously doing just that as he stared at the key still lying on Gideon’s desk. Gideon would have to be careful now, because he very much wanted Matthew Honesdale as an ally. If he were truly innocent of blackmailing Knight, he could be invaluable.

  “Mr. Honesdale, I’m wondering why your friend gave you this key.”

  “I’m wondering that myself.”

  “And I’m also wondering why your friend gave you the key at this particular time, when you have owned the mortgage for a number of months. Can you think of any reason?”

  This time Honesdale sat back in his chair and gave Gideon a considering look. “No, I can’t, but I’m guessing you have an idea.”

  “I do have an idea, based on information I have learned since our last meeting.”

  “What information is that?”

  Where to start? “You were very helpful when you pointed out that the photograph I showed you of Mr. Knight had been taken in someone’s home.”

  Honesdale muttered a curse as a red flush rose up his neck. “It was Knight’s house, wasn’t it?”

  “The painting you pointed out to me is still hanging in Mr. Knight’s bedroom in the house to which you hold the mortgage.”

  His whole face was scarlet now, and his hands had closed into fists. “So they gave me the key because . . .” He raised his gaze to meet Gideon’s, his eyes fairly blazing with fury. “. . . because they wanted to implicate me in the blackmail.”

  “You’d be an easy target, Mr. Honesdale, because of your, uh, business interests.”

  “But how did they know you’d figured it out about the house?”

  “Mrs. Knight showed her minister the photograph. Her minister is Peter Honesdale.”

  His smile held no mirth. “I see.” He considered this information and what it meant for a long moment. “And did she tell him you knew where it had been taken?”

  “No. She pretended she didn’t know anything about it at all, just to see what he would say.”

  “Ah, so the key was merely some kind of insurance, in case you figured it out.” He shook his head. “You thought I was the one behind it, didn’t you? The photograph and the blackmail, I mean. In spite of my very logical reasons for not being involved.”

  “We already suspected Reverend Honesdale, and you’re his close relative.”

  “And I’m a whoremonger, so naturally, I’m the one who led him astray.”

  “Whoremonger?” Gideon echoed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word outside of church.”

  “That’s where I first heard it, too,” Honesdale said with undisguised bitterness. “I spent a lot of time in church when I was young.”

  “Was your father also a minister?”

  “My father was dead,” he said baldly and with no trace of regret. “My mother, too, and Uncle Nathan took me in. The poor little orphan boy given shelter by the saintly minister and raised with his own son.”

  “Were they unkind to you?” Gideon asked just to give Honesdale an excuse to tell him the awful details.

  “If making you express gratitude for every morsel of food and stitch of clothing is unkind, I suppose they were. I don’t even count the beatings, because Peter got them, too. He had to beat the Devil out of us, you see. Uncle Nathan, I mean. He has very strict ideas of how boys should behave. Unfortunately, they change from time to time, so simply learning his rules was never enough. Sometimes he just beat us because he wanted to, I think.”

  “So you rebelled as drastically as you could.”

  “And Peter conformed as drastically as he could, or so it seemed.”

  Gideon’s nerves were tingling again, but he merely waited, understanding the human urge to fill a silence with words would encourage Honesdale to continue his tale.

  Honesdale smiled, this time for real. “He was jealous of me. Can you imagine? Peter was. I ran away when I was fifteen, or rather I left home. Their home; it was never mine. I had a way with the ladies even then, and I became a cadet because it was easy work.”

  Gideon couldn’t hide his reaction. Cadets were young men who seduced young women and lured them into prostitution. But Honesdale merely lifted his chin in silent defiance.

  “You think I tricked girls into becoming whores?” he asked. “Most of them were already selling themselves. I just helped them find a protector so they’d be safe. They were glad to be off the streets. It’s not like they had any choice, either, not unless they wanted to starve.”

  Gideon had the uncomfortable feeling Honesdale was at least partially right, but he wasn’t going to excuse a man whose life’s work was turning women into prostitutes. “And Peter was jealous of you?”

  “Of my freedom from his father. When I started my own place, he became one of my best customers.”

  Gideon had been expecting something like this. “And you rekindled your friendship.”

  Honesdale gave a bark of mirthless laughter. “Hardly. I would always be the poor relation and he the chosen son. But I let him think we were friends so I could have my revenge.”

  “So you told his father about his vices,” Gideon guessed.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Suddenly, a new possibility occurred to him. “You were blackmailing him.”

  “Not at all, although I did enjoy reminding Peter from time to time that I could do so.”

  “Then what was your revenge?”

  “Daisy.”

  “Daisy?”

  Honesdale’s smile was predatory this time. “Did you not suspect she isn’t what she appears?”

  Elizabeth and his mother had suspected. “She does lack a certain polish.”

  “I’ll be sure and tell her that was noticed. She’ll be mortified.”

  “How was she your revenge?”

  “Can’t you guess?”

  Perhaps he could. “You passed her off as a member of society when she’s actually from a poor family.”

  “You have no imagination, Bates,” Honesdale scoffed. “I wanted to humiliate Uncle Nathan. It would take more than a poor but honest female to do that.”

  “Are you saying she was a . . . one of your recruits?”

  “Now you’re accusing me of having no imagination. No, Daisy started out as a procurer, like me.”

  “In Baltimore?”

  “What gave you that idea? No, right here in the city. She was a widow running a boardinghouse, but she didn’t like honest work. It didn’t pay well enough, you see, and it was too much like work. I recruited one of her lodgers, and she realized she could do the same thing. Brothel owners pay well for fresh girls.”
r />   “Because they go through them so quickly,” Gideon said, not bothering to hide his disgust.

  Honesdale shrugged off his disapproval. “In any event, Daisy proved very efficient at her new profession. She found that if she drugged the girls, she got much quicker results and no refusals.”

  “Good God.”

  “Good God indeed. Even I found her techniques shocking. I don’t think I have ever met a female quite so ruthless. And someone with Daisy’s imagination and ambition was bound to rise. I eventually made her the madam at one of my houses, and we were . . . close. She proved to be an astute businesswoman, but she eventually grew weary of the responsibilities. Running a whorehouse is hard work, too, even harder than a boardinghouse. That was when I saw my opportunity, and I told her about Peter.”

  “You introduced her to him?” Gideon marveled.

  “Oh no. He would have suspected my motives. But I did arrange for them to meet in a very respectable way.”

  “But you couldn’t imagine he’d fall in love with her.”

  Honesdale’s grin was almost feral. “You forget, he was my customer for years. I knew his . . . tastes. And Daisy was perfectly willing to cater to them.”

  Gideon could hardly believe it. “And he was willing to marry her in return?”

  “Oh yes. He found her sexually exciting, of course, but her disreputable past meant that he could disgrace his family anytime he wanted.”

  “And did he want to disgrace them?”

  “His father? I’m sure he’d like nothing better, but not if it ruined him, too. I think it was enough just presenting a former madam as his bride to his father, even though his father didn’t know it then. They had to elope, because Uncle Nathan would never have countenanced a match with a social nobody, and once the deed was done, my uncle also couldn’t countenance a divorce.”

  “I still don’t see how this got you any revenge. No one but you knows what you did.”

  “My uncle knows Daisy was a madam now. I made sure of it, and seeing his reaction was priceless. He can’t exactly disown Peter, but he refuses to see them or invite them to his home. Peter doesn’t miss seeing his father, and Daisy makes a presentable preacher’s wife in public, and in private, she . . . does other things.”

  “Like blackmailing people in their congregation.”

  Honesdale let the accusation lie for a long moment. “Yes, well, that wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “And what was your plan? The rest of it, I mean? After you told your uncle his son had married a madam?”

  Honesdale winced. “I suppose I was just going to wait around for someone to recognize her, and if it didn’t happen, I’d arrange for it to happen.”

  “But how did you convince her to go along with this in the first place? I can’t imagine a woman like that would enjoy being a minister’s wife.”

  “I told you, she was tired of running the brothel. It’s hard work keeping the girls in line and the customers happy, and Daisy is lazy by nature. She had also started to miss being respectable. So I may have misled her about how much family money the Honesdales have when I suggested she consider seducing Peter into marriage.”

  “And when she found out Peter didn’t have any money, she started blackmailing Knight.”

  “I told you, blackmail wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “Of your plan, perhaps, but obviously Daisy had a plan of her own.”

  “I probably should have foreseen that. She’d saved a little nest egg when she was working for me, but as I said, she was ambitious.”

  “And she was probably getting bored. If being a madam was too taxing, being a preacher’s wife must have been irksome, to say the least.”

  Honesdale’s handsome face twisted. “Money was always important to her, too, as it always is when you’ve been poor.”

  “I wonder how she came to choose Endicott Knight as a victim.”

  “She may have recognized him from her previous life. Or maybe he confessed his sins to Peter. However he came to her attention, you can rest assured the blackmail was her idea.”

  “You’re sure of that?”

  “Peter isn’t . . . clever enough to have come up with this.”

  “So what does this do to your plan for revenge?”

  “Actually, it creates a brand new need for revenge, this time against Daisy.”

  “Because she tried to implicate you in the blackmail scheme.”

  “Yes, and after I’d gone to all the trouble to make her respectable.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I haven’t had time to figure that out yet. I had to verify my suspicions first, and you have done that for me now, so . . .”

  “May I ask you to wait? You see, Endicott Knight had used his entire fortune to pay blackmail, and then it appears Peter and Daisy pressured a young widow in their congregation to marry him so he could use her fortune as well.”

  “Yes, Mrs. Knight. Do you think they’ll give it all back to her?” he asked with great amusement.

  “Not willingly, but perhaps we can bring some pressure to bear. They’re welcome to keep Knight’s money, but not his widow’s.”

  “What kind of pressure are you considering?”

  Now Gideon smiled mirthlessly. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Because if you’re considering going to the police, you might want to reconsider.”

  “Why do you say that?” Gideon asked, wanting to know Honesdale’s reservations.

  “Because the authorities will never prosecute a Honesdale. I already pay a king’s ransom each month to ensure that no one notices I’m breaking the law. I could shoot a man in the middle of Fifth Avenue and not be prosecuted. Oh, they’d have to arrest me for show, but I’d pay my bail and never hear about it again.”

  “Are you suggesting Reverend Honesdale pays protection money to the police as well?”

  “Uncle Nathan? Hardly. But he has influence and powerful friends, which can protect him and his kin even better than bribery. He might not want to speak to Peter, but he’d never allow his son to be investigated, much less tried, for blackmail. The scandal would destroy them both.”

  “What about murder?”

  “What about it?”

  “Both Mr. Knight and his widow’s first husband died under suspicious circumstances.”

  “And you think Peter had the nerve to actually kill someone?” Honesdale scoffed.

  “Perhaps Daisy did.”

  That gave him pause. “People get away with murder all the time.”

  “Would your uncle protect Daisy, too?”

  “He might, since it’s his family name he cares about.”

  “Is that why you’ve gone to such lengths to blacken it?”

  “I haven’t blackened it. Only Peter can really do that.”

  “Peter or Daisy,” Gideon said. “And in the meantime, Peter and Daisy have tried to frame you for their crimes, regardless of whether you’ll ever be prosecuted for them or not.”

  “You don’t need to remind me.”

  “I’m curious: why did Daisy tell you she was giving you the key?”

  “She said Mrs. Knight would be moving out soon, and I would need the key to claim the property.”

  “And you didn’t wonder why she had it?”

  “I figured Mrs. Knight had given it to her to pass along. Mrs. Knight doesn’t seem like the kind of lady who would come to my house herself.”

  “And yet you were suspicious.”

  “After I had time to think about it, yes. Daisy has a way of making a man forget to do that. And when I got suspicious, I came to you.”

  Gideon should probably be gratified. “You haven’t answered my question. Will you wait to extract your revenge?”

  “Wait for how long?”

  “At least until you hear o
ur plan.”

  Honesdale leaned back in his chair and considered Gideon’s request for a long moment. “Yes, I’ll wait, but only because I’m curious to see how you intend to outwit them.”

  “You don’t think we can?”

  “I don’t think you’re used to getting your hands dirty, Mr. Bates, and that’s what it will take to beat them at their own game.”

  Gideon was very much afraid he was right.

  * * *

  • • •

  ZELDA GOODNIGHT ANSWERED THE DOOR WHEN GIDEON arrived at the house in Chelsea. “Mr. Bates, what a surprise. Was Elizabeth expecting you?”

  “No, she wasn’t. I hope she’s home, though.”

  She ushered him inside, quickly shutting the door on the wintry cold. “She’s here, but I’m sure she’ll want a minute to primp before she shows herself.” A tiny, fragile female almost a foot shorter than he, she smiled up at him fondly. He was always amazed at how easily Zelda and Cybil had accepted him.

  “She doesn’t need to primp for me.”

  “I’m sure she doesn’t, but she will anyway. Please hang your coat up and have a seat in the parlor while I warn her you’re here.”

  He’d managed to warm himself by the time Elizabeth appeared. “Gideon, what a lovely surprise.”

  He allowed himself only one kiss because they had important things to discuss. “Matthew Honesdale came to my office today,” he told her when they were seated on the sofa.

  Her beautiful blue eyes grew wide. “Why?”

  He quickly told her about the key and Matthew’s plan for revenge and how it had gone wrong.

  “He’s right, you know,” she said. “The authorities won’t have any interest at all in prosecuting Peter and Daisy for blackmail, and I doubt Priscilla will have much stomach for it, even if they did.”

  “But we might be able to prove they murdered DeForrest Jenks and maybe even Endicott Knight.”

  “Gideon, we don’t even know whether they were murdered or not, so how can we prove it?”

  “But if we can—”

  “If we can, and if we can convince the authorities to bring them to trial, and if they are convicted, will that help Priscilla?”

  “It will give her justice.”