A Golden Cage

by Shelley Freydont

  Elspeth hurried into the room. “Did you call, miss?”

  “No, but I suppose I’d better get dressed. There will be more morning calls. It seems Gran Gwen is determined to show me off to Newport.”

  “It’s just because she wants your mother to stop worrying about you. You’re not the only one getting letters from her.”

  “Gran Gwen mentioned she’d written to her.”

  Elspeth nodded and pulled the covers back.

  “I hope she isn’t being odious to her and telling her how she should be going on.

  “I think I’d better write Mama this morning and give her all the details of my spectacular week, leaving out the murder, the jewel theft, the threats, and the Gothic houses.”

  Deanna slid her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “Actually, it has been an exciting week.”

  Gran Gwen was reading the newspaper at the table in the breakfast room when Deanna came downstairs.

  “Good morning, Gran Gwen.”

  Gwen folded the paper closed and slapped it down on the table. “Feeling better this morning?”

  Deanna hesitated as she reached for the chafing dish lid. “Yes. I guess I was a little tired when we came home last night.”

  “We have been rather burning the candle at both ends lately.”

  Keeping my mother happy an ocean away.

  “It’s been wonderful.”

  Gwen put her cup down. “You sound like you’re expecting it to end.”

  “Oh, I hope not.” Deanna really hoped that things would sort themselves out and soon, before her mother came back or Walter Edgerton decided to take his wrath out on Gran Gwen and the Ballards.

  “Is there something in the papers that upset you? Nothing about . . .” She trailed off, dreading the gossip that might flow and that Edgerton might use to harm the family. It was reprehensible. None of them had done anything.

  “Nothing of any import.”

  “Where is Joe this morning?”

  “He was gone when I came down.” She smiled and picked up a folded piece of stationery by her plate. “‘Dear Grandmère. I really must work today.’”

  “Good. He’s not very much fun lately.”

  “You’ll particularly like this part. ‘Please don’t let Deanna get into any trouble while I’m gone.’” She chuckled, shook her head, and tossed the note on the tablecloth. “Now I see you’re getting upset, but don’t. He’s a little on his high horse these days, but you have to give men a little room to make themselves appear ridiculous or they end up being like Judge Grantham and the rest of his moralist buddies.”

  “I don’t understand how Judge Grantham can enjoy the theater and champagne and parties and cigars and then be such a puritan.”

  “Well, he isn’t a puritan, but it’s politically smart to align himself with the moralists these days. They’re geniuses at inducing fear. It makes him appear more like God in the pulpit than a mere man on the bench. Sheer vanity.”

  “But he does good.”

  “Of course, mostly. He brings criminals to justice. It’s just that sometimes I think he takes his cue as to who should be criminals, from other men who happen to be very powerful.”

  “More powerful than the Judge?” Deanna asked.

  “Much more powerful.”

  “Elspeth said he had a woman arrested in the Fifth Ward for passing out birth control information. He called it smut.”

  “I imagine Comstock and his thugs were behind that. They are sanctimonious, small-minded—well, I didn’t mean to go off my head about them; the less thought about them the better.”

  “They couldn’t do anything to us, could they?”

  “Us? You and me?”

  “Or any of the Ballards or Randolphs?”

  “Of course not. Who have you been talking to?”

  “No one,” Deanna assured her. She couldn’t tell her about the threats Mr. Edgerton had made. Maybe she had misconstrued them. “I just wondered.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t be spending any time worrying about politics while you should be concentrating on your first season. Wouldn’t you like to meet your friends at Bailey’s or for shopping? You don’t have to stay and entertain me all the time, though I love having you.”

  Deanna bit her lip. “No, but I thought I would stay here this morning and write letters to Mama and Adelaide; I’m afraid I’ve been remiss.”

  “Good. I have some duty calls to make and there’s no reason you should have to endure them. Write your letters, we’ll have a quiet day, and pick up Joseph during our afternoon drive and bring him back with us to entertain us for the evening.”

  Deanna dutifully wrote her mother and Adelaide both. News of the parties and the attention she was receiving to her mother. And descriptions of sea bathing and fashion to Adelaide. No mention of murder, actresses, or scandal of any kind.

  She was just sealing the second letter when Elspeth, carrying a stack of laundry, came into the dressing room.

  “Put that away and then I have an errand that I need you to help me with.”

  “Yes, miss.” It was only a few minutes before Elspeth came back into the room.

  “What’s the errand?”

  “I want you to leave now and walk to this address.” She quickly penned Mrs. Deeks’s address. “I will meet you there. I wish you had a bicycle, but I haven’t seen anyone riding with their maids. And I can’t take a carriage because I don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to.”

  “And what are we going to do when we get there?”

  “You’re going to chat up Lilbeth while I sneak inside.”

  “Lord save us, what do you want to do that for?”

  “Because I’m afraid that Mr. Edgerton is going to cause trouble. Amabelle might be dead, might be long gone, but if she’s still in town, where better to hide than with a half-blind, practically deaf woman, who blames her maid for the food that’s disappearing.”

  Elspeth’s eyes had grown wider as Deanna expounded on her plan.

  “It’s a long walk, I’m sorry. I’ll give you a twenty-minute head start and then I will cycle after you. But don’t be obvious that you’re waiting for me if you get there first.”

  * * *

  Deanna wasted no time changing into her cycling costume. She deliberated about leaving Gran Gwen a note saying she might miss lunch, as good manners dictated. Good manners won and she quickly penned an excuse, which wasn’t exactly a lie. She did need to get some stationery, but perhaps not today. And she and Elspeth would eat in town, if they had the time.

  Elspeth was waiting just off the corner of Bellevue and Jones Street as instructed. She was trying to look nonchalant while also staying out of sight by using the foliage to hide herself. What she lacked in disguise, she made up for in sheer tenacity. She was frowning at a nanny walking with her young charge, until the woman took the child’s hand and scurried away.

  “It’s about time, miss,” she said as soon as Deanna had alighted. They walked up the street and crept up to the side of Mrs. Deeks’s home. Deanna pushed the bike into some shrubbery in case anyone like Will Hennessey happened to be driving by and came to investigate.

  She waited while Elspeth knocked on the servants’ entrance door. It opened almost immediately. “You’re running late today, and the missus—” Lilbeth stopped. “Now, what’s this? What do you want here?”

  “I came to see how you’re doing. I’m a friend of your sister’s; she said you might need some help.”

  Lilbeth shook her head. “I do just fine by myself. Not enough money for two; you’ll have to go someplace else.”

  “Oh,” Elspeth said, sliding past her into the kitchen. “I already have a job. In a big house. Can I have a drink of water? It’s really parching out there.”

  Deanna listened as Elspeth carried on and her voice grew farthe
r away. Then, with one quick look around, Deanna darted into the house. The kitchen was empty but she could hear the two maids talking from the pantry. “And then I’ve the wash to gather in . . .”

  Deanna hurried across the room and into the hallway. The sudden darkness made her stop and blink several times. Slowly the staircase rose above her. It was a massive carved affair. The runner was worn almost down to the wood. She grabbed hold of the banister and started up stairs. A step creaked. She stopped. No one came. Another creaked and then another.

  They all creaked. She’d have to leave it to Elspeth to keep Lilbeth occupied so she wouldn’t notice.

  At the top of the stairs she paused to have a look around. She couldn’t tell if anyone ever came up to the second floor or not. But it smelled musty and dusty, and the wallpaper had started to peel.

  She moved down the hallway to where a narrow back staircase led to the attic. Or at least she hoped it did. Listening, she cautiously began the ascent. She stopped completely and put her ear to the narrow door at the top. Not a sound. She was probably wrong, and how foolish she would look if she were caught! But she wouldn’t be caught. She turned the doorknob, eased the door open a crack, and peered around the edge of it before stepping inside.

  Suddenly she was yanked inside and the door slammed behind her.

  She whirled around. An apparition stood before her, an old cricket bat held over her head.

  Deanna immediately raised her hand. “No, I just want to talk to you.”

  “How did you find me?” asked Amabelle Deeks.

  “If you’ll put that thing down, I’ll tell you.”

  Amabelle frowned at her. “Move back nearer the window so I can see you better.”

  Deanna stepped back and nearly tripped over something on the floor. Too many detective stories told her it was another murder victim, but it turned out to be a rolled carpet that sent up a cloud of dust in the already dusty air.

  “Gran Gwen and I came to visit your aunt Brunoria, hoping that she knew where you were. Really, Belle, we didn’t know if you were dead or alive, and everyone is worried.”

  “Does Aunt Brunoria know I’m here?”

  Deanna slowly shook her head. “She’s deaf and can’t see very well—she hardly turns any of the lights on.”

  “It’s because she’s so tightfisted, my father says. She threw him off when he married my mother, and the rest of the family threw her off. Families are awful.” She lowered the cricket bat. “So if she didn’t know I was here, how did you?”

  “Well, the house was shut up like a tomb, every window shade and curtain drawn, except for that little attic window over there. That’s what gave me the idea you might be here. It’s just what Loveday Brooke would do. I figured it was worth looking into.”

  Amabelle gave her a weary smile and her shoulders sagged. “It was so stuffy. It made me feel sick.”

  Now that she’d put down the bat and Deanna got a good look at her, she had to admit Belle didn’t look very well. She was pale as a statue, her features were gaunt, and she was wearing some old dress that she must have found in one of the dusty trunks that sat along the walls. It swallowed her figure, which had been pleasingly rounded a few days ago, but now looked like it had lost a few pounds. “Are you getting food and water?”

  “After Auntie goes to sleep.” Belle smiled slightly. “I sneak downstairs and I steal her cookies and whatever is in the larder. But getting water is harder.”

  As she said it, she swayed slightly, and Deanna realized that the girl was quite weak.

  She caught her and sat her down on a nearby trunk. “You’re not well.”

  “I just need a little water. Could you . . . ?” She motioned to the corner where a pitcher sat on a cluttered crate along with several uneaten cookies. Straight from Mrs. Deeks’s cookie tin, Deanna was sure.

  It seemed Belle had been trying to make a nest for herself. A pallet on the floor had been covered by an old quilt, and the newspaper lay spread open on it.

  “And I suppose you’re the one who’s responsible for messing up her newspaper every day?”

  Belle nodded and chuckled. “I leave the old one by her chair and take the new one. She doesn’t know one day from the next, so it doesn’t really matter.”

  Deanna poured water into the cup and handed it to Belle, who drank it all.

  “Better?”

  Belle nodded.

  “I’ve been portioning it out. She doesn’t have running water. Just a cistern and a well. So I have to ration.” She handed the cup back to Deanna. “I suppose you want your diamonds back.”

  “They’re not mine, but yes, I do. How dare you steal from people that took you in?”

  Belle half shrugged.

  “You couldn’t sell them around here anyway. Even if they weren’t recognized, which they most likely would be, they would be bound to raise suspicion. The police are looking for you everywhere.”

  “So take them back. They’re over there in the handkerchief. Just take them and leave me alone.”

  “The police aren’t going to stop looking for you.”

  “I told you to take them back. Tell them, oh, I don’t know, tell them I’m sorry.” She started to cry.

  “Belle, I’m not sure you understand. They think you murdered Charlie.”

  Belle didn’t seem to hear her.

  “Did you?” And Deanna had a horrible thought. “Amabelle, you do know that Charlie is dead?”

  “What?” Belle shook her head. “Charlie? What are you saying? No. He can’t be.” She looked around the attic as if she thought he might be there. “He was going to meet me. We were going to run away. Run away from it all.”

  She jumped to her feet but her knees gave way and she fell back onto the trunk. “Charlie? Dead?” She took a breath. “Dead? No, it can’t be that.” She looked up suddenly. “That must be why he didn’t meet me. That’s why the police were at the boardinghouse when I got back there. I was afraid to go inside. I thought they were looking for me.”

  “Oh, Charlie, no.” She broke into a keening that Mrs. Deeks might not hear, but Elspeth and Lilbeth certainly would.

  Deanna moved closer to Belle. “Hush. You don’t want anyone to know you’re here, remember?”

  “Oh. What am I going to do now?”

  Deanna was at a loss. She couldn’t very well say Turn yourself in and be responsible for Laurette’s friend’s daughter being sent to prison. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  “I don’t know. He never came.”

  “Where?” Deanna asked.

  “He was supposed to meet me. After the yacht party after . . . Why did we ever—Oh. I have to get out of here. You’ve got to help me get away.”

  Deanna was beginning to lose her patience with the girl. “Where was he supposed to meet you?”

  “Outside the Ballards’ house. I was supposed to ask for shelter, then when the household was abed, I would steal something that we could sell or pawn, and get away. Go out West somewhere.

  “I managed to get the earrings from a dressing room while Mr. and Mrs. Ballard were, uh, otherwise engaged.” A ghost of a smile, which trembled away. “I went down to meet him, but he never came. I figured he must have gotten scared off, so I came upstairs.

  “I knew I could find him the next day at the boardinghouse, but when I heard all the screaming downstairs I knew that Mrs. Ballard had discovered the theft, so I dressed as fast as I could and ran for my life.”

  “It wasn’t the diamonds, Belle. It was Charlie. One of the maids found him, dead, on the floor of the conservatory.”

  Belle’s face twisted. “No-o-o-o. Why didn’t he come to me when he was supposed to? I waited on the lawn for at least a half hour. Where was he? Why didn’t he come?”

  Deanna let her ask her questions; no one would probably ever know what happened
that night. Why they missed each other, if Charlie was already dead, or had been killed after she went back inside. Or even who the killer was . . . if it wasn’t Belle.

  “How did he, was he . . . ?”

  Deanna hesitated. There was no reason to tell Belle what he looked like, that beautiful face smashed and bloodied. “Someone hit him over the head. There was nothing anyone could do. They assumed it was you, since you had run away.”

  “There’s no hope for me.” And she began to cry in earnest.

  “Belle, I have to go. I’m going to tell Sergeant Hennessey that you’re here. He’s a good man. He’ll help find the truth.”

  Belle grabbed Deanna’s arm so tightly that Deanna bit back a cry.

  “No.”

  “Belle, it’s the only way.”

  “You listen. You don’t understand. They’ll kill me.”

  “The police? They’re not all bad; they’ll help.”

  “No, the police can’t help me. If you believe me, you’ll get my things from the boardinghouse. Noreen knows which room is mine. Oh, but that won’t work. They’ll be gone by now. Back to the city. Maybe they took my things with them.” She looked down at the old dress she was wearing. Then up to Deanna.

  “They haven’t left town. The police are making them stay until they finish with their investigation.”

  “They can’t do that. We already missed two performances for this appearance. Monday is dark so, oh, what day is it?”

  “Wednesday.”

  “Wednesday,” Belle repeated. She glanced at the pallet where she’d obviously been sleeping. “Wednesday; let me think.”

  She walked toward the window, turned suddenly. “Could you please help me get my things back? Then I’ll leave and you’ll never have to see me again.”

  Deanna didn’t bother telling her that it might not be so easy to disappear, but then Deanna had never tried to disappear before. And Amabelle Deeks certainly had.

  “Noreen was one of the girls in the dressing tent the other night; she has blondish brown hair and—”

  “I know who she is and I doubt if she would give me your things even if I asked.”