Which was pretty clever, although Gideon didn’t mention it. “I see. But if Daisy and Peter don’t know it’s boodle, what’s to stop them—”
“We have agreed that we cannot trust each other and a third party should hold the key to the box, someone whose honesty is above reproach. That person will be instructed not to open the box unless both the Honesdales and I are present.”
“Where on earth will you find someone like that?”
“Obviously, the Honesdales have selected you.”
Which was why Peter had asked to meet with him. “But why would they choose me?”
“Your reputation, my dear boy. You should be honored.”
“Did you suggest me?” he asked, not honored at all.
“Certainly not. They would never trust my choice, and they have no idea that we are even acquainted. I merely described all your attributes as the ideal candidate, and Peter Honesdale thought of you immediately.”
“What if he hadn’t?”
“I would have accepted whoever he chose, although I do feel more comfortable with you holding the key.”
“And you expect me to violate my instructions and open the box for you so you can steal their money?” he asked, outraged.
“‘Steal’ is such an ugly word. And no, I do not expect you to violate your instructions. We chose you for your honesty, and that is all we will require of you.”
This didn’t make any sense. “How will you get the money, then?”
“You needn’t concern yourself about that. All you have to do is follow your instructions.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DAISY CARRIED THE SATCHEL INTO WHICH THEY HAD PUT THE money. She’d draped the strap across her body and then put her coat on over it, on the off chance that someone decided to snatch it as they made their way through the city. Not that such a thing was likely to happen. She and Peter hardly looked like the sort of people to be carrying a fortune in cash through the streets. Still, she felt safer knowing no one could even see the bag, much less easily jerk it away from her.
Gideon Bates was waiting for them in the lobby of the building, looking as smug and self-righteous as always. What a pity that such a handsome man was so virtuous.
The Safe Deposit Company looked a bit like a bank, only without the teller windows. It had a soaring ceiling with ornate plaster designs and mahogany wainscoting along the walls. Several clerks sat at desks around the edges of the room and various doors seemed to lead to the storage areas of the large building. Peter had explained that the company had been formed to provide safe storage for people who didn’t have safes in their homes or who had valuable items too large for a safe that they didn’t want to keep in their homes. Banks didn’t have room for storing these items, so someone had seen the need for secure storage and filled it.
Gideon greeted them with more courtesy than enthusiasm, and Daisy made a point of being warm and friendly, just to shame him. He seemed unmoved, however.
“Mr. Carstairs told me the rest of our party is already in the vault waiting for us,” he said.
Mr. Carstairs was an officious-looking man of middle age with a broad stomach and thin hair combed carefully over a bald spot. He greeted them cheerfully.
“Mr. Franklin asked me to escort you to the vault. This way, please.”
The three of them followed him through one of the doors and down a hallway to a large vault. The heavy steel door, which had an impressive locking mechanism, stood open, and inside the long walls were covered by dozens of compartments that looked like the mailboxes at the post office but larger. Each had a handle and a keyhole. A plain wooden table sat in the middle of the vault. On it was a long, oblong metal box that appeared to have been pulled from one of the spaces on the wall, which now stood empty.
Franklin and Ross stood by the table. Today Franklin wore a conservative suit, thank heaven, although Ross still looked like a pimp. Or a pimp’s assistant. Franklin greeted them. “And this must be Mr. Bates,” he added, turning to Gideon and introducing himself.
“Yes. Pleased to meet you.” Bates shook Franklin’s hand with the same haughty disdain he used on everyone. He always thought he was so much better than everyone else.
Franklin introduced him to Ross, and they shook hands as well.
“Thank you, Mr. Carstairs,” Franklin said. “You’ve been a great help.”
Carstairs sketched a little bow. “I’m happy to be of service. I’ll be in my office if you need anything. Just take care that your box is securely locked in place before you leave.”
He stepped out of the vault and pulled a curtain across the opening, giving them privacy in the event anyone happened by.
“Has Reverend Honesdale explained your role in all this, Mr. Bates?” Franklin asked.
“Not exactly,” Bates admitted, glancing uneasily at Peter.
Peter opened his mouth to rectify his oversight, but Franklin raised a hand to stop him.
“It’s very simple,” Franklin told Bates. “The Honesdales are investing in a project of mine. We have some valuable documents that need safekeeping for a period of time. To ensure these documents are kept safe, we will place them in this box, and we will ask you to hold the key.”
Bates didn’t like this. He didn’t like it at all. “Why can’t one of you keep it?”
“Because if anything happened to the documents, the person holding the key would naturally be suspect.”
Bates smiled mirthlessly. “So you want to be able to blame me if anything happens to them.”
“Not at all. Even though you have the key, Mr. Carstairs and his staff will never allow you access to the box since you are not listed as an owner. Only the Honesdales and myself are allowed access, and only you have the key.”
“So one of you would have to be with me,” Bates guessed.
“Yes,” Daisy said, impatient with the wrangling. “Except that we are going to instruct you to never unlock the box unless both Mr. Franklin and at least one of us is present.”
Now he understood, although he still wasn’t happy about it. “This seems very convoluted.” He turned to Peter. “If you don’t trust this gentleman, may I suggest you shouldn’t be engaging in business with him?”
Peter chuckled and slapped Bates on the back in an awkward show of camaraderie. “I appreciate your concern, old man, but we know exactly what we’re doing.”
In Peter’s case, that was an exaggeration, but Daisy didn’t bother to correct him. “Is that acceptable, Mr. Bates?”
“We will pay you for your assistance, of course,” Franklin said quickly, in case there was any doubt.
“I’m sure my firm would insist on it,” Bates said. “I am also available to advise you, and you may rely on my discretion,” he added solemnly to Peter in a last effort to persuade him.
“We’ll keep that in mind,” Daisy said before Peter could say something stupid. “Now if you’ll step out, Mr. Bates, we can conclude our business.”
She could see Bates hated all of this. Men like him always liked to be in control, so this had to be galling to him. Daisy enjoyed his discomfort for a few seconds before he walked with notable reluctance out of the vault.
“He seems like a nice young man,” Franklin said.
“Which is exactly what we need,” Daisy said.
“Did you bring the, uh, documents?” Franklin asked, taking note of their empty hands.
Daisy gave him a mysterious smile and began to remove her coat. He watched with appreciation as she slipped it off and handed it to Peter. Then she lifted the strap of the satchel over her head and set the bag on the table. “Did you bring your, uh, documents?” she countered.
“They’re already in the box.”
She hadn’t known exactly what to expect, probably that they’d have to stuff the bundles of cash into the small end of the box with the keyhole, which
must swing open somehow, but Franklin stepped aside so Ross could flip open the top, which was hinged to provide complete access to the box.
Franklin’s money was indeed already inside, stacked neatly at one end. She opened the satchel and pulled out their twenty-five neatly stacked and banded bundles of twenty-dollar bills. “It looks so small to be worth so much,” she said when she’d carefully placed their contribution into the other end of the box.
“Most truly valuable things are small,” Franklin said.
“You’re a philosopher, Mr. Franklin,” Daisy said.
He laughed at that. “Hardly.” He reached in and tore the band off one of the bundles and counted out five twenties. At her shocked expression, he said, “For Mr. Bates.”
Then he nodded to Ross, who flipped the lid closed, picked up the box and slid it neatly back into the opening from which it had come. The key was still in the lock, and he twisted it, setting the tumblers in place, then removed it. After giving the box a good yank to verify it was secure, he held up the key from which hung a brass circle stamped with the box’s number, 406.
Daisy let Peter help her put her coat back on, and then she led the men through the curtain, out of the vault and into the hallway. Bates had walked down to the end of the hallway in an apparent effort to give them some privacy. Daisy wondered if he had heard the “nice young man” comment from Franklin. She smiled at the thought.
When they reached him, he opened the door to the lobby and held it for them all to exit. Carstairs must have been watching for them, and he bustled up to meet his newest clients. He thanked them for their trust in his establishment and wished them well, then left them standing there.
Franklin nodded at Ross, who handed Bates the key.
“And you won’t open the box unless I and at least one of the Honesdales are present,” he reminded Bates.
“I haven’t forgotten,” Bates said a little testily.
“And this is for your trouble.” Franklin had folded the twenties in half and stuffed them into Bates’s coat pocket as if he were tipping a doorman. Bates looked as if he’d like to murder Franklin, and he made a point of putting the key into a different pocket.
“Call my office if you need . . . anything,” he said through clenched teeth and strode out of the building with a stiffness that betrayed his fury.
Franklin’s smile never wavered. He either hadn’t noticed or didn’t care that Bates had been offended.
Franklin turned to Daisy. “I’m looking forward to working with you . . . with you both,” he added, glancing dismissively at Peter. “I’m returning to Chicago this evening, and I’ll be gone for a few days, but Ross will be staying at the Waldorf if you need anything before I return. I’ll let you know when I’m back so we can begin preparations.”
They exchanged pleasantries and shook hands all around, and then Franklin and Ross left.
Peter turned to her, his face alight with pleasure at how well everything had gone. “It was so easy.”
“That part is always easy. Now the real work starts.” She’d already made up a list of people Franklin would need to buy off. She was thinking she would start recruiting the girls. She knew where Matthew’s best ones worked, and poaching them would be a sweet form of revenge. And it would be so much easier than the old days, when she had to bring in drugged girls who cried and carried on until they finally accepted their fates.
She could move the new girls into the house, and they could keep seeing clients while Daisy got things ready. And she would have expenses. Lots of expenses. She would soon have skimmed a tidy sum from the unsuspecting Mr. Franklin.
But Peter was babbling, disturbing her train of thought. “Let’s go out this evening and celebrate.”
“You have a meeting of the church council this evening,” she said. “Don’t worry, though. We’ll have plenty of time to celebrate after you resign from the church.”
They had started walking toward the door. “How soon can I do that?”
“A few more weeks, I should think.”
“I can’t wait to tell my father.” He held the door for her.
“I’ll go with you. I can’t wait to see his face.”
* * *
• • •
ELIZABETH HAD DECIDED TO REMAIN IN HER ROOM THAT evening instead of attending the salon. She didn’t feel much like socializing, especially when she knew Gideon wouldn’t be there. She could tell from the rumble of voices that the guests had begun to enjoy themselves when someone knocked on her door.
Probably Cybil or Zelda wanting to lure her downstairs so she wouldn’t brood. They always assumed that social interaction was the cure for whatever emotional travail one was suffering. She opened the door to find Anna smiling widely.
“Did you come alone?” Elizabeth asked in surprise. Anna’s mother would never have allowed that, she was sure.
“And hello to you, too,” Anna said, making no move to step inside. “No, I did not come alone. Gideon escorted me, as always.”
“He came?” She laid a hand over the fluttering in her stomach.
Anna rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure which of you is the bigger idiot. Of course he came. Not showing up for church yesterday was a masterstroke, by the way. He could hardly sit still through the entire service. He kept looking around to see if you’d somehow snuck in without him noticing.”
“But I . . . We . . . Why is he here?”
“Because he’s madly in love with you and can’t stand being away from you. He didn’t say that, not directly, but I know it’s true.”
“What did he say directly?”
“He said he knew how much I wanted to come and that my mother would never let me come unescorted, so he’d make the sacrifice.”
That didn’t sound like “madly in love” to Elizabeth. “And I suppose you think I should go downstairs and talk to him.”
“Or you could go downstairs and not talk to him, which might actually be better. At this point, you’re obviously trying to drive him insane and—”
“I’m not trying to drive him insane!”
Anna just smiled knowingly. “Let’s go downstairs.”
For reasons Elizabeth did not examine too closely, she checked her appearance, pinched some color into her cheeks and smoothed her hair before following Anna down the stairs. Just as they reached the bottom, Cybil opened the front door and Jake stepped in.
“Oh no, I forgot it was Monday night,” he groaned when he noticed the crowd in the parlor.
“I don’t believe that for a moment,” Cybil said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You had a wonderful time last week.”
“No, I didn’t, but I needed to see Lizzie.” He turned to her, looking desperate for rescue.
She took pity on him. “Come upstairs.”
Anna sighed with long-suffering but left them to it after greeting Jake, and wandered off to find some other friends to converse with.
Elizabeth led Jake back up to her bedroom. “What is it?” she asked when she’d closed the door behind them.
“The Old Man thought you should know we got your fellow involved.”
Elizabeth didn’t know which part of this statement was more surprising. “We?” she asked first.
“Yeah, I’m the steerer.” He said it almost defensively. So the Old Man had taken her suggestion. He must be doing all right, too, or he wouldn’t be bringing her messages.
She decided not to comment, though, because Jake would probably take offense no matter what she said. “And what is Gideon doing?”
“He’s holding the key to the safe-deposit box.”
Which made no sense. “What are you talking about?”
Jake explained.
“He won’t open the box for the Old Man, you know,” she said, completely mystified.
“We know,” Jake said with complete confide
nce.
“Then why . . . ?”
So Jake explained that, too.
“Oh, that does make sense.” Although Gideon would probably be furious when he figured it out.
“The Old Man thought you should know.”
“Why should I care? Gideon and I have broken it off.”
Jake looked as convinced of that as Anna had.
“Really! Why won’t anyone believe me?”
“The Old Man told me to tell you, so I did. Can I leave now?”
“Don’t you want to get something to eat before you go? Zelda will be crushed if you don’t.”
“I guess that wouldn’t hurt.”
They went back downstairs, although with each step the flutter in Elizabeth’s stomach grew stronger. How silly! She shouldn’t be worried about seeing Gideon. She shouldn’t care at all. He was nothing to her now.
Except then she saw him waiting at the bottom of the stairs, and she knew he was not nothing to her and never would be. She managed a polite smile. “Gideon, how nice to see you.”
“Yeah, nice,” Jake said and slapped him on the back a little harder than he should have. Ignoring Gideon’s black look, Jake strolled off in search of Zelda and something to eat.
“It’s nice to see you, too.” Gideon looked completely at ease, much to her annoyance. “I was just about to give up and go sit beside Miss Adams and mention Wordsworth.”
She couldn’t help smiling at that. “You make it sound like a suicide attempt.”
“It would have been, since I surely would have died of boredom. Thank you for saving me.”
She glanced around to make sure no one was paying them any attention. “Jake told me about . . . that you’re holding the key.”
“Apparently, I’m the most honest person the Honesdales know.”
“It’s . . . a compliment,” she said lamely.
“So I’ve been told. Tell me, do you have any part to play in all of this?”
“No,” she was happy to say. “I’m completely reformed.”
He raised an eyebrow at that but didn’t challenge her. “Elizabeth, I need to apologize to you.”
City of Secrets Page 26
