“Joe will be even angrier than Will. I’d rather face Will.”
“I think we should go ask Mr. Joe what to do . . . even if he does yell at you. At least he might give us some dinner.”
Chapter
20
Orrin had been acting oddly all morning. They’d stopped for lunch and he’d hardly said a word.
Joe asked if he was feeling well. He said he was fine. So they finished lunch and went back to work.
They settled back into the familiar rhythm of inventor and apprentice. Joe giving instructions, or thinking out loud, with Orrin listening and learning and making astute observations.
But as the afternoon wore on, Orrin seemed more distracted than ever, and agitated. They were measuring the angle they would need to add the automatic delivery system to the actual conveyor belt. Orrin was usually excited about new projects, but today he seemed distant.
“Orrin, is something wrong?”
Orrin just frowned, his eyebrows dipping toward his nose.
“Is it because I’ve been staying nights at Bonheur?” Joe dropped the tape and wrote some calculation in his notebook. “Are you worried about the equipment? Hiram and the men have been doing a good job of policing the place.”
“No, sir, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
Orrin sighed, stretched his neck.
Screwing up his courage, Joe thought. But for what? God forbid he was about to lose an apprentice.
“It might be none of my business, and you can tell me so, you can even fire me, but my sister takes good care of Miss Deanna and she cares an awful lot about her.”
“Yes. I know. They’re very close.” Elspeth had become the friend Deanna should be seeking among her own class, but Joe could understand that. It was like Orrin and Will and him. Especially since he’d decided to devote his life to his machines, he’d found it harder and harder to relate to his own peers.
“Is there a problem between Elspeth and Miss Deanna?”
“No, sir, but Elspeth—and me, too—don’t want to see Miss Deanna hurt.”
Joe put down his notebook. Looked at Orrin. What was the man getting at? “Nor does anyone,” he said.
“No, sir.”
“So what is the problem?”
“Well, sir, I’ll just come right out and say it.”
“Please do.”
“You ain’t playing Miss Deanna false, are you, sir?”
“Playing—? What on earth are you talking about?”
“With that actress person, the one they call Noreen.”
Enlightenment dawned. “No, of course not.” Though the thought had briefly crossed his mind. It’s not like he and Deanna were engaged. Or even planning to be. Joseph was not interested in marrying anyone.
Orrin was watching him intently.
“No, Orrin, even though Dee isn’t really my girl, I’m not playing her or anyone else false. I’m not carrying on with Noreen. She’s an interesting lady, but mainly she is a part of the case that Will”—and Deanna—“is involved in. That’s why you’ve seen her here. And you may see her again, but it means nothing. Nothing has, um, occurred.”
“That’s all right, then.” Orrin’s face lightened, and Joe was looking at the old Orrin. “What do you want to measure next?” he asked, and picked up the end of the tape.
It took Joe a second to get back to normal. Is that what everyone thought?
They worked in silence for the next half hour, only speaking to call out a number or move to a new position. It felt good to be back at work, but even now, Dee was on his mind. He’d left the house before she’d come down this morning. Surely now that his parents were back, his mother would keep her from running off half-cocked.
What was he thinking? As far as Joe could tell, his mother lived in a permanent state of half-cocked.
Maybe she could at least get Dee to confide the whereabouts of Amabelle Deeks.
He heard footsteps across the warehouse floor and looked up to see Will striding toward him.
Joe grimaced. Whenever Will dropped in unexpectedly, Joe’s first reaction was always What’s wrong? Usually there was nothing amiss, and Will was just stopping by for a friendly visit. Still, Joe could never stop that first visceral reaction.
He put down his tools and went to meet him.
“You on the job or is this a social visit?”
“Neither, actually. As predicted, I was taken off the case. Sort of.”
“Sort of? How can you be taken off a case sort of?”
“Judge Grantham has returned, and he and Edgerton were down at the station. Together they disparaged the department in general and me specifically for not doing more to clear up the murder. Edgerton was demanding that we charge Roland Gibbs and start trial proceedings, though we don’t have a whit of evidence against him. The Judge was demanding we ‘Find that girl and bring her to justice.’ Lord, they can’t even agree as to whom they want charged.
“They both lambasted us for not searching the aunt’s house. Threatened to go there themselves.”
“The aunt?”
“A Mrs. Deeks, great-aunt living like a recluse over on Jones Street. We knew about her. We went twice and talked to both the servant girl and to the aunt. The old lady is absolutely potty and swore she wouldn’t let the ‘little harlot’ in the house; the maid swore there was no one in the house but the two of them.”
“And you believed her?”
“The aunt was adamant, and I know the maid’s family. She wouldn’t lie to me. So this morning the new team and the captain himself laid siege to the old lady’s house, with a warrant written by the Judge, to search the place.”
“And?”
“According to the word on the street, they made a hash of it, found nothing, and frightened the old lady, who has threatened to bring charges against several of the officers.”
Joe laughed. “Typical. Well, since it’s out of your hands, pour yourself some coffee; the newspaper’s on the table. I just need a few minutes to finish up these measurements.”
“That’s where the ‘sort of’ comes in.”
“Ah. Caveat legatus.”
“In spades. The Judge has asked for me personally to find Amabelle Deeks. Ergo, I’m here playing least in sight. Lord, these cottagers and their demands.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any way I can help?”
“I could use that cup of coffee if you haven’t burnt it to ashes.”
“Can’t guarantee that, but you’re welcome to it. Then I’ll take you for a pint and some dinner.”
“What? It’s a little early for you to knock off work, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but we’re at a good stopping place, and I’ll come back later and finish up.”
When Joe came out to the front a few minutes later, Will was sitting at the table, a steaming cup of coffee at his elbow and the newspaper spread out before him.
“Ready?” Joe asked.
Will nodded, folded the newspaper once.
“Leave it,” Joe said. “I’ll clean up later.”
“What’s your hurry?” Will asked, plunking the paper on the table and picking up his hat.
“I’m hungry and I thought we’d go down to Bonheur. The food’s better than the pub, and I just want to make sure Deanna is staying out of trouble.”
“You’re not her nursemaid.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“She’ll resent you for it.”
“I’m well aware of that, too.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“I’m still undecided. We can discuss it over a whiskey and Cook’s excellent food.”
* * *
The carriage came to a stop in front of Joe’s warehouse on Richmond Street. Jasper jumped down and opened the carriage
door, but instead of handing Deanna down, he stood, blocking her way.
“Begging your pardon, miss, but I’m not sure the mistress would want you visiting here,” he said.
“Yes, thank you, Jasper, but it’s something I must do. You may go back to Bonheur now. I’m sure Mr. Joseph will see us home.”
He didn’t move, but looked toward Elspeth as if he expected her to support him.
She didn’t.
“Then I’ll just make sure Mr. Joseph is in.” He strode over to the door and knocked. Waited, then turned to Deanna. “No one is at home, miss.”
Any other time Deanna would have been tempted to giggle at the idea of Joe “at home” in this derelict building standing among other derelict buildings. But today she was just impatient.
“They’re probably working and can’t hear you. Please try again.”
He knocked, knocked again, and finally the door opened. Orrin stood frowning out at the coachman.
“Where is your master?”
Orrin frowned more fiercely. “Gone to dinner.”
“Oh good,” Deanna said. “Elspeth and I are starving.” She climbed down from the carriage before Jasper could try to dissuade her. Elspeth climbed down after her.
Deanna smiled at the coachman. “Thank you so much, Jasper. I’m sure you must be wanting your dinner, too. Will you be so good to tell Carlisle that I won’t be back for a while?”
“But, miss,” Orrin began.
“You hush up,” Elspeth told him.
“Thank you, Jasper.”
“Yes, miss.” He climbed up on the box and with a last look at the group standing in the doorway, he clucked to the horse and drove away.
“Well?” Elspeth gave her brother an exasperated look. “Where are your manners?”
Orrin jumped as if someone had goosed him. He stepped back. “But Mr. Joseph ain’t here.”
“Isn’t,” Elspeth said. “Now will you please go to the pub and tell Mr. Joseph that my mistress is here, and will he please bring her something to eat—and me, too—as we haven’t had any lunch or tea.”
“Have you eaten, Orrin?” Deanna asked.
“Yes, miss.”
“So go,” Elspeth said.
Orrin frowned at Elspeth, nodded jerkily to Deanna. “Lock the door and don’t open it unless you know it’s me or Mr. Joe. There’s bad ’uns all around here and men that want to steal what Mr. Joe does, or destroy it—”
“Orrin,” Elspeth said, drawing out his name like Deanna realized she used to do to her own brother, Bob, and suddenly she missed him sorely.
Orrin pulled his leather apron off and hung it on a peg. Took his cap off another peg and left. Elspeth locked the door behind him.
“That sugar man still after Mr. Joseph’s inventions?” Elspeth asked, pulling a chair out for Deanna to sit on.
“Yes. He’s ruthless, but Joe will prevail. I know he will.”
Elspeth found some tea; managed to put water on to boil after experimenting with the knobs of the Acme oven that Joe had modified over the winter. Deanna picked up the newspaper that was lying on the table and opened it to the society page.
There was mention of the Chepstow party, naming a few of the more well-known dignitaries. Several paragraphs on the Grantham fete, with descriptions of the décor and the women’s finery. A column on a baseball game, something Deanna had never been to, and an article that interested her immensely, about the cycling rally taking place in Newport. The regatta was coming from Manhattan, the first boats had already arrived. The season was in full swing.
She heard the teakettle whistle and was dimly aware of Elspeth bringing things to the table. She was beginning to wonder what was taking Orrin so long. The pub was, she imagined, the one catercornered to the warehouse. He should be back by now.
“Elspeth, look out the window and see if you see them coming.”
Elspeth looked out, and Deanna noticed for the first time that the windows were now fitted with iron bars. Like a jail, Deanna thought. Was Joe in danger living and working here?
“No, miss, I don’t. Oh, there he is.” She went to the door and opened it.
“I told you not to open—”
“I saw you coming. Where’s Mr. Joseph?”
“He weren’t there. But the landlord gave me some bread and cheese. He placed the package he’d been holding on the table. “Said if you wanted something hot, they got beef and carrots and potatoes and he’ll send a girl over with it, if you want.”
Deanna shook her head. “This will be great. We don’t really have time to eat a proper meal. But please thank him for me the next time you see him.”
“Yes, miss.”
Elspeth brought a cracked teapot over and an equally disreputable mug.
“Where else could he have gone?” she asked Orrin.
“I don’t know, miss. There’s several decent pubs in the neighborhood. Do you want me to check them?”
“Well, how long does he usually stay gone?” Deanna asked as she folded the newspaper and started to hand it to Elspeth.
“Well, he usually doesn’t go out until we knock off work, and I go home, so I don’t rightly know. But if he goes out in the afternoon he usually comes back within a half hour or so.”
Elspeth arranged the teapot and packet of cheese and bread on the table, found two plates and a large knife. She arranged the plates and reached for the newspaper that Deanna was holding out to her. But Deanna suddenly pulled it back.
“Elspeth, get yourself and Orrin a mug and sit down, both of you. I’m not the Queen. And I think . . .” She unfolded the paper and looked at it.
“What?” asked Elspeth as she hurried to bring two more mugs to the table. She pulled a stool over, sat, and began cutting slices of cheese and bread. “What do you think, miss?”
Orrin stood a little ways off. “I’ll have a bit of tea if you please, miss, but I’ll stand.”
“But what do you think?” Elspeth asked impatiently.
“I think we better find Belle Deeks before someone else does.”
* * *
“Good afternoon, Carlisle. Where is everyone?” Joe asked, stepping into the foyer at Bonheur.
“Mr. and Mrs. Ballard and Madame Manon are on the terrace having cocktails.”
“And Miss Deanna?”
“She and her maid are still out.”
Joe’s breath hitched. “Shopping?” In his dreams; Deanna didn’t really like to shop.
“I couldn’t say, sir. She’s been gone most of the day. She took the carriage. Jasper drove them.”
“Ah,” Joe said, feeling slightly mollified. Jasper wouldn’t let them get into trouble.
“We’ll join the others on the terrace. Could you ask Cook if she’s willing to feed two weary, hungry souls? Nothing fancy. Just filling. Sergeant Hennessey has had a trying day and no food.”
“Very good, sir.” He went off toward the back of the house, and Joe and Will went through the second parlor and onto the stone terrace.
There was a light breeze blowing, and Grandmère had wrapped a flowing scarf around her hair and shoulders, the tips of the scarf lifting with each breeze.
His father saw him and stood. “Joe, come join us. Is this a professional or a social call, Hennessey?”
“Social,” Will said.
“Then have a seat and a drink. You find us a trio of idlers this evening. Something we don’t often experience in this household.”
Joe was glad to see his father so relaxed and his mother so attentive. He was sorry that he would even have to bring up something that might disturb that mood.
“You look pensive, Joseph,” his grandmother said.
“Do you know where Dee is?”
“She took the carriage.”
“Do you know what she is up to?”
&nbs
p; “My guess is she’s gone to fetch that tiresome Amabelle Deeks and make her turn herself in, or is fraternizing with the actors with whom she seems smitten.”
“And you let her go? Do you realize the Deeks girl could be a murderess?”
“I sent Jasper with her. He’ll keep an eye on them.”
“Is that why you’ve come?” She included Will in the question.
“Joe just took pity and offered to feed me.”
“Is Cook preparing something?”
“Yes,” Joe said. “But there have been some developments we thought you would want to know.”
“Do tell.”
Will told them about Judge Grantham and Edgerton coming to headquarters to demand conflicting actions by the police. How Will had been dismissed and then approached privately by the Judge.
“I knew as soon as the Judge returned he would start pushing his not-inconsiderable weight around,” Laurette said. “He just can’t seem to keep his fingers out of everyone else’s pie. And now his shadow, Edgerton, is going his own way? No wonder you’re hiding out.”
Joe took a drink from the tray that had appeared at his side, nodded to the footman, who then moved on to Will. “Mother, tell Will what you learned while you were in the city.”
“About Amabelle and her family or the other?” asked his mother, and took a sip of her drink.
“All of it.”
She had to wait, since at that moment Carlisle returned with a footman carrying a tray of food, which he set down on the butler’s table that Carlisle then moved closer to Will and Joe.
When the food was served and the servants had departed, Laurette said, “Well, I have a little news that might or might not be helpful. It turns out that the reason the family has cut off communication with Amabelle is not that she ran away to become an actress—Rosalie isn’t narrow-minded—but because, not content to just do that, the silly girl began living the high life and is abiding in an evidently swank apartment paid for by a gentleman whose identity is unknown.”
“That could be anyone,” Will said. “And how does Charlie Withrop fit into that scenario?”
“I have no idea,” Joe said. “But I thought it might help. It seems like I can’t stay out of this investigation.”
A Golden Cage Page 27
