“And yet you thought it best that you impersonate her at that meeting.” The statement contained an unspoken question.
“We weren’t deliberately trying to mislead you, but you will probably never have the opportunity to meet the real Mrs. Knight, and we did think you might be more kindly disposed if you came face-to-face with the unfortunate widow.”
“An excellent strategy, because I did feel more kindly disposed, so I will forgive you, but only if you convince Mr. Bates to tell me all the details of your plan to bring down my cousin and his unholy wife.”
“Unholy? Surely your cousin Peter deserves that title more than she.”
“Perhaps you don’t know her as well as I. In any case, someone will tell me your plan before I leave here.”
“We would be happy to,” she said and took the other visitor’s chair, allowing both men to sit again as well. “What has Mr. Bates told you so far?” she asked, knowing full well he couldn’t have told the man anything at all, since he probably knew even less about it than Honesdale.
Gideon couldn’t help noticing that she had hardly spared him a glance since she entered the room, too, and even now was avoiding his eye.
“He hasn’t told me anything,” Honesdale said.
“Mr. Bates is the soul of discretion,” she said, infuriating him. She made him sound like a stodgy old uncle. “May I assume that Daisy has called upon you, asking for the key to the Knight house?”
“Yes, and I have to confess to being annoyed that I wasn’t warned ahead of time.”
“Please accept our apologies. Things moved a little more quickly than we anticipated, and quite frankly, we didn’t realize the house would come into play so early. I only learned this morning that our agents met with Reverend and Mrs. Honesdale last evening. I came here immediately to tell Mr. Bates, but . . .” She shrugged, and any man with blood in his veins would have forgiven her anything.
“The important thing is that I know now,” Honesdale assured her much too eagerly. “Daisy also offered to buy the mortgage from me.”
“I thought she might. That was to be your inducement to participate in the plan, although I believe that once you give them the key and accept payment for the mortgage, your part will be over.”
“How disappointing.”
“Don’t worry, we’ll allow you to know everything else that happens.”
Gideon cleared his throat and then was sorry he had when she turned her cool, blue stare on him as impersonally as if they’d just met. “Mr. Honesdale wanted me to tell him the entire plan, but I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea.”
She turned back to Honesdale. “Mr. Bates is extremely cautious, as all good attorneys must be, but certainly you may know the plan. A gentleman who is in the same business as you in another city has approached your cousin and his wife—his unholy wife, was it?—because he wants to expand to New York City.”
“Why would he approach a minister about something like that?”
“He pretended to be confused. He was actually looking for you and was misdirected.”
Even Gideon was impressed by that detail, although he took care not to show it.
“And Daisy would have jumped at the opportunity,” Honesdale said. “Being a minister’s wife was beginning to wear on her.”
“They apparently offered Mr. Knight’s house as a location for the new business, and they claimed to own it.”
“Which explains Daisy’s visit this morning. So now I know how I benefit, but how will you get the widow’s money back?”
“Reverend and Mrs. Honesdale will need to make a cash investment in the, uh, enterprise,” Gideon said, surprising both of them. Did he catch a hint of admiration from Elizabeth that he had figured it out? Probably not, but at least he’d contributed something so Honesdale wouldn’t think him a complete fool.
Honesdale turned to Gideon, and he did show some admiration. “A very clever idea. So all I have to do is give Daisy the key and let her buy the mortgage from me. Is that correct?”
Gideon glanced at Elizabeth who gave a quick nod. “Yes, that’s all.”
“That’s easy enough. If you’ll give me the key, I’ll be on my way to do my part.”
“And be sure to get your payment before you turn over the mortgage,” Gideon said.
“Always the careful attorney,” Honesdale said cheerfully as Gideon handed him the key he’d removed from his desk drawer. Once again Gideon managed not to punch him.
Honesdale went to the door, opened it and stood aside. “Miss Miles?” he said, indicating she should precede him.
But Gideon couldn’t let her go, especially not with Honesdale. “Miss Miles, if you wouldn’t mind staying, I have some more information for you. On another matter,” he added for Honesdale’s benefit.
She’d already turned to follow Honesdale. She stopped, and for a horrible moment, he was afraid she wouldn’t stay. Then she turned, an artificial smile stiff on her lips. “Of course, Mr. Bates. I’m always happy to oblige.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ELIZABETH WAITED UNTIL HONESDALE HAD CLOSED THE DOOR behind him, then walked the few steps back to Gideon’s desk. She made a point of not sitting down. She didn’t want him to think she’d sit still for another of his lectures on the rule of law. “What information did you have for me?”
“You asked me to look into DeForrest Jenks’s death.”
“Oh.” Well, that was different. She sat down again, although she only perched on the edge of the chair, ready to jump up and escape at a moment’s notice. She also kept her tone cool and disinterested, and steeled herself against his charm, just in case he tried to use it. “What did you find out?”
Gideon sat down again, too, but much more slowly. She didn’t trust him. He was being too careful. “It looks like Jenks was murdered.”
She shivered as a chill ran down her spine. “Murdered? Are you sure?”
“I found out from the club manager and the company that removed the gargoyles from the other three corners of the building that they had been called earlier to inspect the gargoyle that fell on Jenks.”
“Inspect it? You mean before it fell?”
“Yes, it wasn’t working properly. The gargoyles aren’t just decorations. They’re actually part of the gutter system, and this one wasn’t draining. The company determined that it was loose and could fall at any moment.”
“So they knew it was a hazard and did nothing about it?” she asked in outrage.
He seemed somehow gratified by her outrage. “Only the club president knew.”
She needed a minute to make the connection. “If I remember correctly, Endicott Knight was the club president.”
“You do remember correctly, and he probably confided in his good friend Peter, who immediately saw an opportunity.”
“After what we’ve learned, do you really think it was Peter Honesdale who saw the opportunity?”
“Or Peter’s unholy wife saw it,” he said with a trace of his usual spirit. “In any case, I also talked to the police detective who investigated Jenks’s death.”
“But he must have thought it was an accident.”
“He did, but he didn’t know what we know about how much Knight needed Jenks’s money and what happened after Jenks died.”
“No, he wouldn’t have, and it looked like an accident, so why would he have bothered to find out anything more?”
“He wouldn’t and he didn’t, but he did tell me that Jenks was already lying on the sidewalk, facedown, when the gargoyle hit him.”
“Already lying . . . ? How could they know that?”
“Because the gargoyle hit him on his back. Think about it. If he’d been standing on the sidewalk, it would have crushed his head or at least his shoulder, but his head wasn’t injured at all. Just his back.”
“That’s . . .” She stopped, unab
le to think of the right word.
“Impossible,” he supplied. “Yes, it is.”
“And the police detective noticed this?”
Gideon nodded. She wished he didn’t look so handsome when he was being serious. It was distracting.
“Then why didn’t he investigate?” she asked, frustrated all over again.
“He’d been told Jenks had been drinking heavily that evening. They assumed he had passed out and just happened to be lying there in the exact right spot when the gargoyle fell.”
“That’s monstrous! You mean they just laid him out on the sidewalk and then . . . ?” She shivered again.
“The detective thought Jenks had passed out, and he probably had if he was drugged as we suspect, but the detective didn’t want to add to the widow’s burden by mentioning it. Either way, it would have been an accident.”
“Except it wasn’t an accident at all. Did you tell him what we know? Did you tell him it was really a murder?”
“No, I didn’t.”
She gaped at him. “Why not? You’re the one who wanted the law to take care of them. Now you have the proof and—”
“But I don’t have proof.”
Was he crazy? “Of course you do! You just told me!”
“I told you Knight was told the gargoyle was loose, and we know he was being blackmailed, and we know he married Jenks’s widow. None of that proves he murdered Jenks.”
“Yes, it does!”
“Not in a way that would stand up in a court of law. Not even in a way that would convince the police to bring charges.”
“But—”
“And there’s more, something we didn’t even think of, something that will hurt Priscilla.”
“What?”
“When I was talking to the detective, I mentioned that Jenks might have had enemies, someone who wanted to marry his widow, and he immediately thought I meant Priscilla had a lover and the two of them conspired to murder him.”
“Oh no!”
“Oh yes. Don’t you see? That’s what everyone would think if they found out Knight killed Jenks.”
“Especially because he married Priscilla just a few months later! Oh, Gideon, Priscilla would get all the blame, too, because Knight isn’t even here to tell people she wasn’t involved.”
“Assuming he’d do that, and nothing we know about him indicates he was a gentleman.”
“But even if he did try to take the blame, no one would have believed him. People are always willing to believe the worst about a female.”
“At least Knight had the decency to kill himself.”
“You sound very sure of that,” she said, remembering that they had wondered if the Honesdales hadn’t gotten rid of him when he was no longer of use to them.
“I found the West Side Cowboy who was on duty the night Knight died. As far as anyone can tell, Knight stepped in front of the train on purpose and of his own accord.”
“So it was suicide.”
“As far as we’ll ever know. I also met with the manager of Priscilla’s bank to see if they had any idea what Knight did with the money he withdrew from her accounts, but they didn’t. The only interesting thing I learned is that a minister once accompanied Knight to the bank. So that’s another dead end.”
Elizabeth could only stare at him as the import of his words—all of his words—finally sank in. “You investigated all of this.”
Some emotion flickered across his face, but his voice was expressionless when he said, “You asked me to.”
Had she? So much had happened since then that she’d forgotten. But he hadn’t forgotten. He’d remembered and he’d done it, because she’d asked him to, even though she’d sent him away and told him they were finished. But why? “Were you trying to prove you were right?”
He jerked back as if she’d struck him. “Prove I was right about what?”
“About the law being the only right way to get justice.”
He considered her question for a long moment. “Yes, I suppose I was, but also . . . I wanted to impress you.”
“Impress me?” she echoed in wonder.
He smiled bitterly. “Yes. I wanted to find out the truth that would bring the full weight of the law down on Peter and Daisy so you’d understand why I believe in it.”
And he had found out the truth, for all the good it had done. “Oh, Gideon—”
He raised his hand to stop her words. “No, it’s fine. I needed to do that. And we needed to know what really happened.”
“Should we tell Priscilla?”
“No. Not yet, at least. It won’t give her any comfort and might just make her grief harder to bear.”
“You’re probably right. Oh, Gideon, this is even more horrible than we suspected. I really do wish we could see the law punish them for this.”
He raised his eyebrows in amazement. “I don’t suppose your plan calls for anything like that.”
“Not a punishment, no. Nothing that could compare to being put in prison. We were just going to get Priscilla’s money back.”
“That’s something, at least.”
She blinked in surprise. Was he actually expressing approval of their plan, however tepid and halfhearted? “I . . . Thank you for giving Mr. Honesdale the key and . . .”
“And what? Not trying to talk him out of helping you?”
“Yes, that, too.”
“I don’t think I would have succeeded in any case.”
“But you didn’t try, and I’m grateful for that. I’m also sorry I didn’t give you fair warning. The Old Man really just told me this morning what he’d done, and I came right over to let you know.”
“Will you . . . keep me informed?”
Oh dear, why did he want her to do that? “Are you sure you really want to know?”
“I won’t help you, but so long as Peter and Daisy are the only victims, I won’t interfere, either. I just think it will be easier not to interfere if I know what you’re doing.”
That made sense. “All right.” Although that meant she’d have to see him again. Would she mind so very much? Seeing him wouldn’t change anything, after all. “I . . . The Old Man will get Daisy and Peter to take him over to Knight’s house next. They think they are going to turn it into a brothel and Daisy will run it.”
“Run it?” he echoed in astonishment.
“She was a madam before, remember? The Old Man thinks she wants to run the house so she can skim the profits, and he’s probably right.”
“What will Peter do?”
“I’ve been wondering that myself. Surely, he doesn’t think he can keep on being a preacher.”
“I imagine that’s one of the attractions for him of opening your own brothel. You can’t possibly have a future in the ministry.”
She couldn’t help smiling at that. “Matthew did say Peter resented his father as much as Matthew did.”
“So this would cause his father the most embarrassment possible.”
“Not as much as a murder would have, but enough, I’m sure.”
Gideon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “But they won’t really be opening a brothel, will they? So there won’t be any scandal. What will happen when it’s over? When you’ve taken back the money, I mean.”
“Nothing as dramatic as the last time, I promise,” she said, remembering the scene in Gideon’s parlor when Anna shot her. “The Old Man and his cohorts will just disappear. Daisy and Peter don’t know their real names or where to find them, and they’ll just vanish.”
“So aside from losing their ill-gotten fortune, nothing will really change for Peter and Daisy.”
“I hadn’t thought about it, but I suppose not. Peter will go on being a minister and Daisy will be his wife, but without any extra money to spend. That hardly seems fair, does it?”
“
No, it doesn’t.”
She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t, although she could tell he was thinking very hard about something. She should go, she knew. No use prolonging the agony that she felt every second she was with him. “I guess I should—”
“Of course,” he said, rising to his feet so quickly she felt insulted. “I’m sorry to have kept you.”
His formal tone cut like an icicle thrust into her heart, but she rose, too, and thanked him for his time.
“You’ll keep me informed,” he repeated as she turned toward the door.
“Yes, I will.”
He must have pushed some kind of alarm button, because Smith opened the door from the other side before she reached it.
“Please see Miss Miles out, Smith,” Gideon said.
Smith was the perfect gentleman, escorting her to the front door and wishing her a good day, but by the time she reached the sidewalk, she was blinking at the sting of tears. She wouldn’t cry. That would be idiotic. She was the one who had ended it, after all. It was for the best. It was for her own good.
It was horrible.
* * *
• • •
“SMITH!” GIDEON CALLED WHEN HE HEARD HIS CLERK RETURNING.
Smith stepped into his office. “Yes, sir?”
“Do we have any clients in the newspaper business?”
“One or two, I believe. We drew up a will for—”
“Can you give me their names?”
“I’m sure I—”
“I’ll need them immediately. And I’ve written a note for Matthew Honesdale. I’d like to have it delivered as well.”
If Smith was curious—and from his expression, he was almost insanely so—he said not one word.
When he was gone, Gideon sat back in his chair and remembered his conversation with Elizabeth. She’d seemed pleased to learn he’d investigated the two men’s deaths, although neither of them could be pleased with the results of those investigations. And as much as she’d wanted justice for her friend, her father’s con would still leave Peter and Daisy free to destroy the lives of others, just as they had done to Jenks and Knight and Priscilla. The law couldn’t touch them for the murders and punishing them for the blackmail would only hurt Priscilla and her daughters.
City of Secrets Page 24
