A Golden Cage

by Shelley Freydont

  “I’m sorry,” Will said. “But it doesn’t seem that I’m able to make any progress on my own.”

  “It’s because you only have half the information,” Gwen said.

  “Half?” Will said, surprised.

  “It isn’t your fault, dear, but let us all face facts. You cannot police the cottagers all by yourself. And as long as none of them—except perhaps us—will cooperate with any of the police, except you, because you are an educated man from a good family, and then only begrudgingly, you will never be able to gain all the cooperation you need to solve crimes. I bet you haven’t even been allowed back into the Grantham grounds or the fete theater, have you?”

  Will shook his head. “But I don’t know what we could learn there.”

  “Perhaps nothing, but that is where these people spent most of their time that night . . . except for the orgy afterward.”

  Joe started to protest that it wasn’t an orgy but decided not to bother. It may have turned into an orgy after he left.

  “It was Dee who approached the actors and who gained Noreen’s trust.”

  Joe didn’t mention his interactions with Noreen, either.

  “She found Amabelle Deeks.”

  Joe and Will both stared at her. “You know where she is? Dee refused to tell.”

  “She promised the girl not to tell a soul. The girl was afraid for her life.”

  “That’s impeding an investigation,” Will said.

  “Which is not necessarily a bad thing,” Gwen told him. “Your force has already arrested one person with absolutely no evidence, you said that yourself.”

  Will shut his mouth. No one said another word.

  And into that silence, Joe’s father asked, “Why here?”

  “What do you mean, sir?” Joe asked him.

  “Why kill poor Charlie in Newport? It would seem to me to be much easier to murder and dispose of a body in New York City than in a Newport family conservatory.”

  “An argument started before they arrived which came to a head here?” Joe ventured.

  “And the killer came with the troupe?” Will said.

  “Or the killer followed them here,” Laurette suggested.

  “Or was already here,” said Joe.

  “Tell me,” Will said. “Do any of you know why the Granthams hired this particular troupe?”

  “I have no idea,” Gwen said. “Though I confess it was not a play I would have thought Maude or Drusilla would approve of.”

  “And yet, we heard that it was Drusilla who insisted on it,” Lionel said. “Would she go against her mother or her husband because she knew her father would like it?”

  “Neither would hold sway if she thought her father would like it,” Laurette said. “Which he obviously did. Did you see him, Mama? He sat rapt for the entire hour. I guess you can’t completely despise a man who supports the theater.”

  “Depends on his reasons, my dear.”

  Laurette stared at her husband. “And do you know what those reasons might be if not for the play?”

  “God, no. I was just thinking of what Joe said about Jacob Mersey’s yacht party and Edgerton being there.”

  “But I only saw him on our arrival. I didn’t see him again. I assumed he left. But Mersey was paying marked attention to several of the girls. Later he said he was interested in Talia, hired the Casino theater for them to rehearse in while they were stranded here.”

  “How did you learn—oh, never mind.” Will sat back in his seat, dejected.

  “Mersey mentioned Talia, but he’s been known to court more than one lady at a time. He could have been interested in Amabelle.”

  “I would think Mersey too indigent to kill someone over a woman . . . or two.” Lionel trailed off.

  “Edgerton threatened Deanna the other night at Chepstow,” Gwen added.

  “What?”

  “Calm down, Joseph. I believe he told her to stay away from his family. He was merely reminding her of her place in society . . . she is young and her place is tenuous.”

  “What could she possibly have done to cause his censure?”

  “Tried to be nice to his wife. Which I could have told her was wasted energy. Drusilla is as sour as they come.”

  “She’s had good practice from that draconian mother of hers,” Lionel said.

  “Yes, Maude does tend toward the dour,” Gwen said. “Now, let the boys eat in peace for a moment.”

  Joe found that he was no longer hungry. He was also concerned about Dee. She didn’t seem to realize how easy it was to find yourself in a situation you weren’t able to handle. It was bad enough in the ballroom, but in questions of the law and her own safety . . .

  They had just finished eating when Carlisle reappeared. “I thought you might want to know. Jasper has returned with the carriage.”

  “Did he bring the girls with him?” Gwen asked, a tinge of concern in her voice.

  “No, Madame. He said he left them off at Mr. Joseph’s warehouse, and to tell you they would get him to bring them back to Bonheur.”

  Joe and Will were both on their feet before he’d finished his sentence.

  “Carlisle, please have the stable send round my curricle.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, Joseph, don’t go off half-cocked,” said Gwen. “What do you aim to do?”

  “I’m going to fetch Dee and Elspeth and bring them here, where you will watch them and make sure they don’t try to leave again. Then Will and I are going to pay a visit on the Judge.”

  Chapter

  21

  “I am such a fool. Look at this paper.” Deanna spread out the newspaper and opened it to the local news page. “What do you see?”

  Elspeth leaned over to look; even Orrin moved closer. “Articles about what’s happening in Newport this week.”

  “And what else?”

  Elspeth shrugged. Looked at Orrin.

  “Just the train and ferry schedules.”

  “Exactly. The day I found Belle she had been reading the newspaper. She joked about how she stole it each night and rearranged the pages to confuse her aunt before she returned it.

  “I thought she was looking at the society news to see what they said about the Grantham fete and the play. But what if that wasn’t why she was reading that page? What if she was looking at ferry schedules?”

  Both O’Larens looked at her, and she realized they were expecting her to know the answer.

  “We know, or at least are pretty sure, she actually went to the docks. Timothy—one of the actors—said he thought he saw her at the wharf,” Deanna explained to Orrin. “She was wearing an old dress that she found stored in a old trunk in the attic.”

  “You think she was going to make her escape?” Orrin asked, getting into the spirit of the investigation.

  “Wearing a disguise,” Elspeth added.

  “Possibly,” Deanna said, trying to rein in their imaginations. “Except she didn’t have any money. But the last time I saw her, she said she would be fine, soon. I really think she was planning to meet someone getting off the ferry. Except Timothy thwarted her attempt. He called her name and she ran.”

  “Maybe she met him someplace else,” Elspeth said.

  “Or her,” countered Orrin. “It coulda been a her.”

  “Or her, though I think we can agree that it would probably be a he.”

  Orrin huffed out a sigh.

  “Because when the Ballards went to town, they found out that Belle had a, um, protector.”

  Orrin looked blank.

  “She means an old geezer that keeps a woman for his own pleasures.”

  “Elspeth.” Orrin blushed. It colored his whole face and neck.

  “Well, not necessarily old,” Deanna said. “It could be someone young and rich. Or even just well-to-do.�
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  “But I thought she and poor Charlie were engaged to get married.”

  “Well, there seems to be some confusion about that. But let’s hold off on Charlie for a moment.”

  “Okay, the mystery man, then,” Elspeth said. “How did she know he was coming?”

  “She might have wrote him a note,” Orrin said.

  “Or sent him a telegram,” Elspeth said.

  “Possibly,” Deanna said. “But someone might see her mailing it. And how would she get a stamp? And what if the person who read it threw it away? And someone else found it. Would you ever do something like that, Elspeth?”

  Elspeth thought, then shook her head. “No, because we read detective stories and know better.”

  “Belle reads them, too. She wouldn’t do anything that might leave a clue.”

  “Except an open window.” Elspeth grinned.

  “Except an open window.” Had there been other clues Deanna had missed? Had Belle found the person who she said would take care of her? Soon, she’d said. Because she knew he would be coming to Newport. But people came to Newport every day. And if he had already arrived, they would be long gone.

  Deanna shook the newspaper out to its full size. “Next to the ferry schedules, they always announce the people who are arriving each week. Only the society people, but . . .” She ran her finger down the list. “Dr. and Mrs. Seward Webb, Mr. Carry, Miss Florence Cole, Mr. C. Morrison, Judge Samuel Grantham.” Deanna smiled. “Wouldn’t that be a kick?”

  “Not him, miss.”

  “Probably not.” She shoved the paper away. “It probably doesn’t matter at this point. If she did rendezvous with someone, it’s probably too late to catch them. Except . . . where would they go? Not back on the ferry with her dressed like the witch from a fairy tale—or a Greek goddess. She’ll need clothes to get on the ferry. Actually, she’ll need clothes wherever she goes.”

  “And Noreen has her clothes,” Elspeth said.

  “And the troupe is leaving tomorrow and she’ll be stuck.” Deanna stood, took a pace around the room. Looked out the window for Joe. No sign of him.

  “Do you think she knows?” Elspeth asked.

  “Let me think.” Deanna came back to the table, sat down. “She may not know when they’re leaving, but they’ll have to leave sometime. So where would you go to make sure they don’t leave without you?”

  Two blank faces looked back at her. “They’re no longer at the boardinghouse; she won’t know where they are staying. And even if she did, they’d never let her inside dressed the way she is. They’d think she was a beggar in those clothes . . . and something worse if she wore her costume.

  “Oh, how could I be so dim-witted?” She turned to Elspeth. “Where would she go if she wanted to make sure she wasn’t left behind?”

  Elspeth shook her head.

  “To the scene of Judge Grantham’s fete. All the sets and costumes are stored there. Mrs. Grantham was complaining about what an eyesore they were.”

  “Oh, miss. That would be a perfect place to hide.”

  “And with all the costumes, she might even find something to wear that will look presentable. Or at least find a crate to stow away in.”

  Deanna stood.

  “Miss, you’re not going there?” Orrin said.

  “Of course—how else will we find her?”

  “But, miss, they will never let you prowl around their lawn.”

  “We’re not going to tell them.”

  “You’ll be arrested for trespassing or worse,” Orrin said. “At least wait for Mr. Joe to return.”

  “No, we won’t, and we can’t wait for Joe. I have to make Belle turn herself in. It’s my fault the police don’t have her now and the reason why Rollie’s in jail.”

  “It isn’t your fault. You were just trying to help,” Elspeth said.

  “But I made a mess of it. I promised her, but I should have told. Now I want to fix it if I can. I’m selfish. I know. I made a simple mistake, but how will I explain that if Belle is gone and Rollie is on trial for murder?”

  “Oh criminy, miss. Come on, then.”

  * * *

  The sun was setting when Joe stopped the curricle in front of his warehouse. He tossed the reins to Will to hold and jumped down. Orrin opened the door immediately.

  “Where have you been, Mr. Joe? I looked in the pub and everywhere.”

  “We went to Bonheur. Are Miss Deanna and Elspeth still here?”

  “How did you know they were here?”

  “The coachman told me. Are they still here?” He started to go inside.

  “No, sir, you just missed them.”

  “Are they going to Bonheur?”

  “No, sir, Miss Deanna said she couldn’t wait any longer, and they were going to . . .” He bit his lip. “She said she thinks she knows where Belle is hiding and it’s all her fault.”

  “Where?” Joe had to concentrate not to grab his apprentice by the shoulders and shake him.

  “At Judge Grantham’s.”

  “Grantham’s?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “And she thinks Belle is at Judge Grantham’s?”

  “I’m not sure. She just said something about the ferry and clothes, I couldn’t follow it all.”

  “The ferry and clothes? Are you sure?”

  Orrin nodded. “She just said that if you got back to follow her to the fete. And to bring the sergeant.”

  “How did they go?”

  “Made me hire them a hack. I knew you wouldn’t like it, but . . .”

  “That’s okay; it’s sometimes difficult to say no to a lady.”

  “And to my sister, sir.”

  “I can believe it. How long ago did they leave?”

  “Maybe twenty minutes.”

  “Okay. Why don’t you lock up and go on home? We won’t be doing any more work for tonight.”

  “Yes, sir. You’ll take care of them, Mr. Joe.”

  “I will.” Joe climbed back in the curricle and turned the horses around. “What do you think they’re doing?” Will yelled over the rattle of the carriage.

  “Hopefully not confronting Judge Grantham about anything. Not at this hour. Not with the whole family at home. What the hell does she think she’s doing?”

  * * *

  Deanna took Elspeth by the wrist and pulled her through the trees at the edge of the Grantham property. The sun was setting, painting the sky red and orange and leaving everything before it in silhouette.

  They made their way across the lawn, Deanna acutely aware of the lights coming from the Judge’s mansion. The whole family must be home, and they were the last people Deanna wanted to see tonight.

  She hadn’t thought far enough ahead to how she would get Belle out to the street once she found her—if she found her.

  But a terrible suspicion had been darting around her head, concerning Belle’s rich and powerful patron and exactly how powerful he was.

  They slowed down as they drew closer to the remains of the theater. Anyone who had been working here during the day had gone, and everything was eerily quiet. The canopied walkway to the stage was now missing, with hardly any evidence that it had ever swept across the lawn to the theater.

  Deanna kept scanning the area, listening for the slightest sound, and could hear only Elspeth breathing in her ear.

  The ballroom and canopied ceiling over the floor had been removed. Only the stage was standing, a curtain drawn across the front, the quickly constructed wooden roof still covering whatever sets remained.

  Behind the stage the wooden walkway ran between the stage and the tents. They were still standing, but tied up tight.

  “Come on,” she whispered to Elspeth, who seemed to be getting more difficult to pull along.

  “Where are we?” she breat
hed back.

  “It’s backstage, and these are where the dressing rooms and storage rooms are. On that side is the back wall of the stage. That huge round thing sticking out is part of the Ferris wheel I told you about. The one that took the couples to wedded bliss.”

  She stopped at the first tent. It took a few long moments for the two of them to untie the knots and climb inside.

  “We should have brought a torch,” Deanna said, blinking against the dark interior.

  “Except that everyone would know we’re here.”

  “True.” Deanna moved forward, looking around boxes and platforms, turning in all directions as she went.

  “Belle?” she whispered. Then louder. “Belle. Come out. It’s me, Deanna. I need to talk to you.”

  She turned and found Elspeth treading on her toes. They both let out involuntary squeaks and shushed each other at the same time.

  “Let’s try the next tent.”

  They groped their way back to the tent flap and stepped onto the walk. They tied the flap back and moved on to the next one.

  “What’s this one?” Elspeth asked as they untied the flap.

  “I’m not sure.” Deanna pulled back the flap and stepped inside. Elspeth moved quickly behind her. Elspeth screeched, and Deanna stepped back into her. She was standing on the same level as a giant mouth gaping open.

  “Wh-what is it?” Elspeth stuttered behind her.

  Deanna took a deep breath. “It’s only the Sphinx. It’s like a big tomb, but it’s only papier-mâché. Belle?” They got no answer in that tent or the next, which appeared to be the costume tent, judging by the stacks of huge theater crates packed and ready to be carried to the wharf the next morning.

  They searched the dressing rooms, men’s and women’s, and found nothing but the empty dressing tables, the rows of lights still lining the tops, but giving no light. A few pieces of trash, but nothing more.

  “She’s not here,” Elspeth said.

  “Certainly looks like it.” Deanna sighed. “And I was so sure she would come here. Now what are we going to do?”

  “Get ourselves out of here before someone comes.” Elspeth pulled Deanna toward the open flap.

  Someone was already here. Deanna heard voices. She thrust Elspeth to the side and stood near the opening of the tent, listening. The voices were muffled. She peered around the edge of the tent opening. No one was in sight.