It Happened at the Fair: A Novel

by Deeanne Gist

CHAPTER

  44

  Cullen paced the walkway outside Harvell House. The steady stream of fairgoers leaving the park had dwindled down to an occasional carriage passing by. Where the devil was Della? Every boarder’s name had been marked off the list except for hers. He’d gone straight from Machinery Hall to the Children’s Building, then to Blooker’s. But she was nowhere.

  It was well past dark. The fair would be closing soon, and she’d have to walk these streets alone. She was every bit as upset as Wanda and every bit as vulnerable. What was she thinking?

  Had she been hurt? Was she, at this very moment, lying alone in some hospital with no one to look in on her? To check and make sure she was receiving the best of care? What if she’d wandered into a tightly packed crowd and become frightened? What if she’d conked her head and couldn’t remember who she was? He wondered how many hospitals Chicago had and how long it would take to visit them all.

  He called up newspaper articles buried in the back sections of the paper. Short mentions of women who’d arrived at the fair from out of town, then simply vanished into thin air. In the advertisement section, desperate families had descriptions of their loved ones and appeals for information. Every woman described had been young, beautiful, and on her own.

  He tried to stem the flow of his imagination, but horrific possibilities continued to bombard him. He cursed. He prayed. He willed her home with his thoughts. Yet still she did not appear.

  Flipping open his pocket watch, he decided to give her thirty more minutes. If she wasn’t home in thirty minutes, he was involving the police.

  Sitting on the steps, he held his head in his hands. He hoped Wanda was all right. At least he knew she was being well taken care of.

  His mind then wandered to the replaced sprinkler heads. It had to be Bulenberg. Who else would have done such a thing? He had no enemies that he knew of. The only person who’d demonstrated opposition of any kind had been Bulenberg.

  The irony was Cullen hadn’t made a single sale, so it wasn’t as if Bulenberg had all that much to worry about unless he really felt Cullen’s demonstration would have tipped the scales. And if the demonstration had worked, it very well might have.

  Propping his elbows on his knees, he rested his mouth against his fists. Maybe he needed to take a closer look at those sprinkler heads. It shouldn’t be too hard to figure out who the manufacturer was.

  A train whistle pierced the silence, momentarily interrupting the crickets’ songs. Then all stilled again, and the night creatures resumed their concert. He checked his watch. She had fifteen more minutes.

  As for his demonstration, he had no prayer of getting the director-general’s permission again. And even if he did, no one would come to watch it. No, he had to do something else. Something big and dramatic that would put away all doubts but wouldn’t jeopardize the fair in any way. And he’d have to do it in secret, so neither Bulenberg nor anyone else would have an opportunity to sabotage it.

  He snapped his watch closed. Time up. Standing, he squinted down the walkway. Splashes of light from the street lamps offered a spot of illumination between stretches of darkness. Where was she?

  He started to head toward town, then stopped. What if he made it to the police station, only to discover she’d returned to the boardinghouse while he was gone? Should-I-go and should-I-wait played tug-of-war within him as time seemed to slow to a standstill. Finally, he spotted her. At first it was just a woman, then it was Della. Relief lasted a mere second, then anger wrapped itself around him like a boa constrictor. She was in no rush whatsoever, but shuffled down the walk as if she were a century old.

  By the time she reached him, he was shaking with fury. “Where the devil have you been?”

  She looked at him as if he were no more than a passing acquaintance. “Good evening, Mr. McNamara. I trust you had a fine day. Would you excuse me, please?” She made to skirt around him.

  He stepped into her path. “I have been waiting for you for hours. Where have you been?”

  For the first time since he’d known her, she kept her emotions beneath a carefully controlled mask and didn’t so much as twitch. “I don’t believe I’m your concern. Now, if you’ll—”

  “Don’t play games with me. I’ve been out of my mind with worry.”

  She lifted her brows. “I’m surprised you had room in your mind for anything other than your fiancée.”

  All the bluster left him in a whoosh. “Della—”

  “Miss Wentworth. I think, under the circumstances, a more formal address is in order.”

  He’d leave an address out altogether before he’d revert to Miss Wentworth. “We need to talk.”

  “There’s nothing to discuss.”

  “There’s a mountain of things to discuss. And it will start with an apology from me. For lying to you by omission.”

  Her mask cracked. A searing hurt flashed across her face.

  His chest caught. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

  “Who is she?”

  “She’s a woman from home whom I’d planned to marry.” He took a fortifying breath. “Until I met you.”

  Shaking her head in denial, she wrapped a fist around a brooch at her neck. “Why didn’t you tell me you were engaged?”

  “I should have. I have no excuse.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Then let me explain. I wrote to her and ended our engagement. That’s why she came. To confirm it. But she’ll be returning home on tomorrow’s train.”

  “When did you write her?”

  Not nearly soon enough, he thought, swallowing. “Last week.”

  She tightened her lips. “I’m not a fool, Cullen. I’ve heard about men who travel from town to town, preying on unsuspecting women. Well, I may have been unsuspecting before, but I’m not so gullible as to believe you broke off an engagement last week just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

  “You know good and well I don’t travel from town to town luring women like some spider with a web full of flies.”

  “I know nothing of the sort. All I know is what you’ve told me. And if today is any indication, there’s quite a bit you’ve left out.” Her voice cracked. “I need to go inside.”

  “Not yet. Can we talk about it, first?”

  She shook her head, barely holding on to her composure. “No amount of talk will change the fact that you are not who you say you are.”

  “I’m exactly who I say I am,” he barked. “If I could peel off my shirt and prove it, I would. But that would accomplish nothing this time.”

  “Hush!” she hissed, indicating the brownstone’s windows above them. “People can hear.”

  He took a step toward her. “Let them hear. I don’t care. I broke off my engagement. I did it because I am in love with someone else. You.” He gentled his voice. “I’m in love with you, Della.”

  She closed her eyes. “Let me pass, Cullen.”

  “You don’t believe me? You really think I’d say something like that and not mean it?”

  “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  “What can I do to prove it to you? Would you like to talk to Wanda? She’s staying with a woman from the Crowne Pen Company tonight, but she’ll be at Machinery Hall first thing in the morning because I’ll be taking her to the train station.” His face hardened. “It would be incredibly cruel to flaunt yourself in front of her, but if that’s what it takes, by all means, come by in the morning.”

  “A very safe offer, considering you know good and well I have class in the morning.”

  “Quiet, down there!”

  Cullen looked up at the windows, trying to determine who had shouted. He opened his mouth to tell them exactly what he thought, but Della jerked his sleeve.

  “Hush,” she hissed. “They’re absolutely right. I’m going to bed. Good night.”

  She stomped up the steps, him right behind her. She didn’t even stop to cross out her name or light the taper.

  He
tightened his jaw. If she could find her way in the dark, so could he. He doused the light. Everything went pitch-black. The sound of her footsteps stopped.

  He put his hands in front of him, looking for the stairs. She continued up them, albeit more cautiously. He followed the sound and quickly caught up to her.

  “Della, please,” he whispered. “Stop this nonsense.”

  She made it to the landing and took hesitant steps.

  He reached for her hand but captured an arm instead. “Here, follow me.”

  She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let loose.

  “I don’t want you tumbling down the stairs.” He kept his voice low.

  “Let go.”

  “Give me your key.”

  “I can do it.”

  “Give. Me. Your. Key.”

  She gave him the key.

  Releasing her, he found the door, then the doorknob, then the keyhole. After several attempts, he unlocked the door.

  “Where’s your candle?” he asked.

  “You are not going in my room,” she hissed. “Now give me the key back.”

  He handed it to her. “I’m not leaving until you have some light.” His eyes adjusted to the dark, and he could see her faint outline.

  “Fine.” She followed the wall with her hand and hit something. “Ooof.” Then continued.

  “Do you need any help?” he asked.

  “No. Now keep your voice down.” A flame flared bright. She touched the match to a candle, then turned to face him. Her eyes were wary. Her chest lifted and fell with quick breaths. Her hand held the smoking match.

  Standing at the threshold, he made a quick scan of her room. A tidily made bed. Her brush-and-comb set on the washstand. Her extra pair of stockings hanging over a peg in the wall.

  Finally, he returned his attention to her. “I love you, Della. And rather than proving it by taking off my shirt, I’m going to prove it by leaving it on. Because it is out of great love and respect for you that I leave you in this room untouched and unkissed.”

  She gave no indication as to her thoughts. Just stood stiffly by her bedside table.

  Stepping back, he paused. “It’s just like mine.”

  A beat of silence.

  “What is?” she asked.

  “Your room.” He pointed to the third floor. “Mine’s right above yours.”

  Lips parting, her gaze shot to the ceiling.

  “Good night.” He crossed the hall to the stairs, leaving the door for her to close.

  CHAPTER

  45

  Della lay in her bed, covers to her chin, thanking the good Lord that the room Hilda and Maxine occupied faced the back of the house. If they’d been facing the front and had heard Cullen and her, the game would have been up for certain.

  She studied the ceiling. Every creak and scrape told of his movements. He’d said their rooms were exactly the same, so she knew when he crossed to the washstand. When he undressed and hung his clothes on the pegs. When he crawled into bed. When he tossed and turned.

  When all had settled, she moved her attention to the window. Was he asleep, or was he looking at the full moon?

  I’m in love with you, Della.

  He’d finally said it. The one thing she’d longed to hear. Until she found out he had a fiancée.

  Raising an arm, she laid it beside her on the pillow and ran her other hand down her braid. Her father had told her of men who had multiple wives living in multiple towns, none aware of the others. She hadn’t believed him. Had thought he was exaggerating. Now she wasn’t so sure. It would be much easier to do than she’d suspected.

  Wanda. Her name was Wanda. She’d wondered. She also wondered how long this Wanda had known him. And how often her fiancé traveled out of town.

  He’d said she could question Wanda, then quickly followed it up with an admonition of how insensitive that would be. Was it because his concern for Wanda’s feelings was real or because he didn’t want Della to find out the truth?

  He’d discouraged her from trying to discover the truth once before, but she’d insisted. And he’d not been lying. But was that enough to exempt him now?

  She didn’t know. She wanted to believe him. Oh, how she wanted to believe him. But her father had said blind trust was for fools. The way a person earned trust was to check on what they said. To demand proof.

  But if she confronted his fiancée and she confirmed Cullen had been telling the truth, well, that would be awful. Horrific. She couldn’t imagine subjecting any woman to such a thing.

  And even if Cullen was telling the truth, would that excuse him for failing to mention his fiancée? They’d talked for hours and hours over the past four months about everything—their homes, their lives, their jobs. He’d had plenty of opportunities to bring it up. Yet he hadn’t. And that was nothing short of outright dishonesty. And he knew it. Had apologized for it. So, did that make it okay?

  Not by a long shot.

  Frustrated, confused, and exhausted, she curled into a ball and tried to find solace in sleep that would not come.

  CHAPTER

  46

  Della refused to give Cullen any more lessons and had been deft at avoiding him. He’d parked himself outside her classroom, but the Board of Lady Managers ran him off. He tried to wait for her in front of Harvell House, but she’d had her name removed from the list. He had no way of knowing if she was there or not.

  And aside from all that, time was running out. He needed to make one last push to win customers, and he had to do it now. So if worse came to worst, he’d follow Della back to the Pennsylvania Home for the Training in Speech of Deaf Children Before They Are of School Age and try to woo her there.

  In the meanwhile, he stepped into Chief Murphy’s office at the Fire and Guard Station, closing the door behind him. Unlike Grasty, who had a habit of strewing papers everywhere when he worked, Murphy kept everything so clean it made him wonder if the man ever did any paperwork at all. Then again, maybe it was the only part of his job he could control and keep in an orderly fashion.

  Running his thumb and finger down his bushy brown mustache, Murphy indicated a ladder-back chair with his head. “The boys said you sspct foul play.”

  “No suspecting about it.” Cullen deposited the three sprinkler heads, now cleaned, on the desk. “Two of my automatic heads were replaced with manual ones.”

  Murphy examined them, reached for his magnifying glass, then examined them again. “Do you know who?”

  Though he had his suspicions, they were just that. And he was loath to name Bulenberg on nothing more than conjecture. Giving his trouser legs a tug, he lowered himself into the chair. “The manufacturer’s mark was sanded off, and I wouldn’t even begin to know how to investigate such a thing.”

  “Did you notfy the police?”

  “I told the commandant of the Columbian Guards. He took my report, but I’m sure there are many more pressing matters for him to see to.”

  Murphy set down the magnifying glass. “What do you intend to do?”

  “About the culprit? Nothing for now. Mainly because a second demonstration is more pressing. Still, I can’t afford for anyone to tamper with it again.”

  Leaning back, Murphy tapped his fingers together. “Even if this scnd demonstration is successful, it won’t make people forget the last one.”

  Cullen pulled on his ear. “What if I had three separate sheds? And all three were lit one right after the other, then all three were doused at the same time?”

  Murphy shook his head. “I don’t thk you’ll be able to draw the audience you’d need. Not after that last demonstration.”

  “I thought of that, and that’s why I’m here.”

  Murphy pursed his lips. “I’m listening.”

  “I saw in the fair’s daily bulletin that Fireman’s Week was coming up. I was wondering if I could be part of it.”

  A hum of voices dipped and swelled in the hallway behind them.

  “That’s sppsd to be a tour
nament between firefighters,” Murphy said.

  “It’s also been billed as a competition to see which engines and apparatus do the best work. I don’t need to be a contender for a medal. I’d just like to do a demonstration of my apparatus. That way I wouldn’t need to get approval from the director-general. I’d only need to be added to the slate by you.”

  Leaning forward, Murphy put his arms on his desk, his chair squeaking. “The tournament starts in ten days. Do you have enough time to build three sheds and three systems?”

  Cullen nodded. “If I don’t man my exhibit, which shouldn’t be a problem since no one will come by now anyway.”

  “What about materials?”

  “I saw your battalions answered a call a few days ago when the Lincoln Hotel’s fire threatened to blow sparks into the Midway.”

  Murphy nodded.

  “Do you think I could collect some lumber from the ruins of the Lincoln?”

  “I don’t see why not. You’d be doing them a favor to haul off whtvr you can.” Opening a drawer, he pulled out a piece of paper. “I’ll write Marshal Green a note saying as much. He’s in charge of the Chcgo battalion that answered the call.”

  “Then you’ll do it? You’ll let me be a part of Fireman’s Week?” He held his breath.

  “Of course.” Dipping his pen in ink, Murphy began to scratch a message across the paper. “It’s going to be dffclt to keep three sheds a secret, though.”

  Euphoria shot through him. “We won’t have to keep them a secret. They could simply be sheds for the upcoming competition. No one need know there are sprinklers inside.”

  Murphy looked up. “Clever. Where do you plan to build them?”

  “I’ll build right on the lakefront where the competition is to be held.”

  Murphy blotted the paper, blew on it, then folded it in thirds. “We’ll give her a try, McNamara. I’ll have my own bttln standing by, just like last time.”

  Taking the memorandum, Cullen slipped it into his jacket, then extended his hand. “Thank you, sir. I, I don’t know what to say.”

  “No thanks are necessary.” Murphy held their handshake. “I only wish I could do more. If you ever decide you wnt to be a firefighter, you let me know.”