It was a clever plan, and I told her so. I also told her I would help when I was able.
‘Would you?’ Sonya’s eyes sparkled, and when Delia came around with a tray and offered lemonade she took a glass, but before we had a chance to discuss the scheme further my brother came over and corralled her.
‘I hear you play the piano and play it quite well,’ he said. ‘We’ve a new one in the next room and my dear daughter Caroline is the only one here with any talent for music. She is upstairs with Nurse. Would you do us the honor?’
Sonya smiled her agreement and stepped away with Phin and, a minute later, the strains of a lovely waltz floated to us from the room next door.
‘Charming.’ Richter sipped his lemonade. ‘Sonya is a woman of many talents.’
‘It must run in your family.’
He laughed. ‘I’m afraid my family is more interested in business than in art. No, no, Sonya was Marta’s cousin, not mine. But she is a good friend and she is an aunt of sorts to my children. She loves them dearly.’
‘I saw them in the garden the other day,’ I admitted. ‘I watched them from the front window. They’re happy children.’
He moved just a step closer. ‘They could use a mother’s love.’
My cheeks flushed with heat and Richter must have sensed my embarrassment. He stepped back immediately and just as quickly changed the subject. ‘Speaking of Succor’s work, your brother tells me you are searching for a missing friend.’
Phin couldn’t have meant Jeffrey. He had no idea I was looking for Jeffrey. ‘You mean Madeline.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, that is the name he mentioned. A Miss Madeline Emerson. After he inquired, I checked the books at Succor.’
‘She’s not listed.’ The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them and I offered a smile by way of apology. ‘I’m afraid I may have overstepped my bounds. When I was there to meet with your cousin and the other women who give so generously of their time, I asked Matron if I might have a look.’
‘So you already knew this friend of yours … this Madeline … you knew even then that she was missing? That is not the impression I got from Mr Barnum.’
‘I didn’t know,’ I said. ‘Not really. I knew only that she was in the city and I thought …’ I could hardly say what I thought because what I thought was that when the man at the Astor House told me James had walked out on Madeline, I hadn’t been the least bit surprised. A man like James is forever heartless. When I visited Succor, it may not have been a wholly formed thought but, deep in my heart, I knew that Madeline might have been abandoned.
I twitched away the uncomfortable feeling. ‘I thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask. That is all. As long as I was there. I am sometimes too curious.’
‘And altogether charming.’ His smile was as gentle as the breeze that flowed through the room and brought with it the scent of autumn air. ‘I’m not at all surprised you’re industrious, that is for certain. But I am surprised …’ He darted a look over his shoulder to where Charity and Phin stood listening to Sonya’s music. ‘Mrs Barnum seems the type who might not approve of a pretty woman spending so much time here on the other side of the room in intimate conversation with a man.’
‘She’s anxious to get me out of the house,’ I confided, then realized I’d said too much.
When my eyes went wide, Richter didn’t hold it against me. In fact, he laughed. ‘Correct me if I am wrong, but I think there is wisdom in the old saying that two women under one roof means trouble. You have too strong a spirit for her. The very fact that you’re looking for your missing friend tells me that.’
‘I haven’t exactly looked,’ I admitted, and realizing it, my shoulders drooped. ‘I’ve asked at Succor. I’ve gone around to the hotel where she once stayed here in the city.’
‘And that is certainly looking! You are to be commended, Miss Barnum. If there’s anything I can do to further your search, you will let me know? Or better still …’ He thought for a moment. ‘You are far too busy at the museum. You hardly need another worry. I will contact some of the people I’ve met through our efforts with Succor, people who work with the other charities that help women. Perhaps I may learn something and if, at the same time, it allows me to take some of the burden from your shoulders, I would consider it an honor.’
I was afraid that blurting out, ‘Thank you!’ my voice breathy and my cheeks hot, made me look like nothing more than a callow miss, yet I could hardly help myself. Fortunately, I was saved from further missteps when Phin announced it was time to eat.
The meal was delicious and the company pleasant. What had Richter once told me? That Sonya had been known to talk the ears off a rabbit? It was true, yet I was grateful for her constant chatter and the interesting stories she told about her recent travels in Europe. Listening to Sonya helped me forget that the hours were ticking away and Jeffrey was somewhere near Water Street while I sat eating custard on Fifth Avenue.
I had hoped to make a graceful exit after the meal but Phin suggested a game of Boston, and as there were four card players needed and Sonya offered to play the piano again, I had no choice but to remain. As I was partnered with Richter and he was a savvy player, I could hardly complain.
Boston was followed by a few quick rounds of charades – one of Phin’s favorites for it gave him a chance to perform and to be the focus of attention – and then by coffee and cakes which Cook brought in on a silver tray.
By the time it was over, I realized I admired Sebastian Richter more than ever. He was clever and charming and he paid me far more attention than was allowed of an acquaintance. The realization that he was more than an acquaintance gladdened me, and when he and Sonya left I watched them walk across the street through the last of the evening light and found myself smiling.
I didn’t realize Charity stood behind me at the window until she purred in my ear. ‘If you’re wise, you’ll keep your mouth shut.’
I twitched away my surprise along with the suggestion. ‘If I’m wise,’ I told her, ‘I won’t assume he has more affection for me than he might.’
‘Oh, I don’t think you need to assume it. He’s interested and will stay interested. If you keep your secrets to yourself.’
I turned from the window. ‘And if I do tell?’ I asked her.
She lifted one shoulder. ‘He will surely reject you. And after that, word is bound to get out. You’ll be an outcast and never find a decent man. But then, I suppose that before now decent men were never the kind that interested you.’
She was referring to James Crockett and I could hardly defend him. That didn’t keep my shoulders from shooting back. ‘It’s been a long day.’ I gathered the skirts of my blue dress and swept around her. ‘I am going up to bed.’
If she noticed that I did not mention I was going to sleep, Charity didn’t say. What she didn’t know was that once I was in my room I changed out of my afternoon dress and house shoes and into a black gown and a pair of sturdy boots. I gathered the money I would need at the public stable where I hoped to hire a hack and a muffler to wrap around my face so I would not be recognized.
Ready, I waited for the house to grow quiet.
It should come as no surprise to learn that Phin often stayed awake until the small hours of the night. He was a man of great energy and possessed an intellect that was so quick-moving as to sometimes seem uncanny. He needed little sleep and often spent his nights at his desk. When I crept out of my own room, I saw a light from beneath the door of his study. Charity’s bedroom, across the hall from Phin’s, was dark but I was hardly willing to take a chance. As quickly and quietly as I could, I made my way to the servants’ stairway at the back of the house and, from there, down to the kitchen.
When I walked in, Cook had a glass of beer on the table in front of her. ‘It’s late,’ was all she said.
I glanced at the clock that ticked away the minutes on the shelf behind her. ‘Just past eight,’ I said. ‘And I won’t be long. If you would be so gracious as
to not mention—’
She stood and went to the door that led into the kitchen garden. ‘Whatever it is you’re about, you best be careful and be home quick.’
I promised I would be.
I would make better time out on Fifth Avenue than I would if I kept to our neighbors’ gardens, so I went around to the front of the house, pausing for a moment once there to make sure there was no one to take notice of me. A carriage whirred by and I waited until it was gone, then made my way down the street and around the corner to a stable where the man on duty pretended not to be too interested when a woman alone came to hire a rig after dark.
I gave the driver my destination, refused to react when his eyebrows shot up his forehead and settled in for the ride. A short while later, I disembarked and paid the man to wait.
I was no stranger to ships or the smell of salt air. Though his family originated in Bethel (as landlocked a place as any), James Crockett had considerable financial interests in shipping and owned a small fleet that regularly plied the waters along the eastern coast and down into the Caribbean, and from there to South America. In former days, we visited his ships and talked of his business interests, and remembering how he’d oftentimes told me that someday the two of us would board one of those ships and explore exotic ports together, my heart squeezed in spite of the advice from my head that told me to put his airy promises behind me.
In daylight, the slips on Water Street bustled with ships coming and going, the piers teemed with sailors and the warehouses that lined the street buzzed like beehives. But in the dark, the docks were a shadow of themselves. Warehouses loomed, dark and massive, to my right as I made my way along the street, and across the East River the lights of Brooklyn winked at me and danced a staccato rhythm against the inky water. Here on the Manhattan side, ships bobbed in the current, their sails furled and their masts like skeleton fingers against the night sky.
There would be fog that night and soon. I realized it when a tendril of moisture curled against my cheek and I found myself pulling my cloak tighter around me. Already the paving stones were slick and I slipped a bit when I stopped to let a rat scuttle across my pathway, followed by a large orange cat on the hunt. They disappeared into the shadows and I heard the rat shriek and told myself to pay it no mind. I had more important business to attend to.
I began my search near where Montgomery Street crosses Water and made my way west and south from there, stopping those few sailors I happened to pass to ask if they’d seen Jeffrey and trying my best not to be unnerved when they looked me up and down as if to judge if I was some crusader bent on doling out salvation to those along the docks or a woman looking to make the cost of an evening’s lodging.
Fortunately for me, my plain dress and cloak and the muffler I wore wound around my neck made me look more like a reformist than a fallen woman, and they told me they couldn’t help me and let me go on my way.
I continued thus for an hour or more, peering behind crates and barrels where they were stacked along the river, talking to those I came across and wondering what in the world I had been thinking when I had decided that a plan this ill-formed might actually have success.
And then I saw him.
Jeffrey Hollister stood in a fleeting pool of moonlight that was just as quickly extinguished when a cold breeze blew and the mist thickened. In the dark and with the fog swirling around us like the eddying currents on the river, he looked neither green nor an oddity but like any other man except for the way he stood, one foot out and his shoulders back, as if he was ready to bolt.
When he heard my footfalls, he tensed and would have run if I hadn’t called out.
‘Jeffrey!’
As if thinking he might be asleep and dreaming my presence, he shook his head. ‘Miss? It cannot be you. Not here. Why are you—’
‘I’ve come to find you, Jeffrey.’ Careful of the slippery pavement, I closed the distance between us. Jeffrey had lost weight since last I saw him; his face was pinched and his eyes were wary. ‘The constable thinks you killed Andrew Emerson.’
A wave of pain crossed his expression when he glanced left and right over his shoulder. ‘I know they are looking for me as I’ve heard rumor now and again. They’ve been about, over on the Bowery—’
‘At Carey’s, yes. I searched for you there, as well.’
‘They’ve been around here, too.’ Jeffrey ran his tongue over his lips. ‘They will surely be back. It’s why I have to get out of here.’
‘On a ship?’ It made sense so I was not surprised when he nodded. ‘When do you leave?’
‘You are not …’ He scraped his hands over his face. ‘You won’t tell them?’
‘That I’ve seen you?’ Against the sound of the water swishing around the docks, my laugh did not exactly sparkle. ‘I am not here so the constable might find you, Jeffrey. I am here because I know you had nothing to do with Andrew Emerson’s death. I’ve been trying to find you so that I might help you.’
He narrowed his eyes and stuck out his lower lip. ‘I didn’t like the way the gentleman touched Miss.’
‘I know that, Jeffrey, but that does not mean you killed him.’
‘I …’ Jeffrey’s shoulders sagged. ‘I did not. I wish I might have, Miss, because he mistreated you. But to bash a man’s head like that? I could never.’
‘Yet you know Andrew’s head was bashed, and you ran and you’ve been missing since. And now you tell me you’re going to go to sea. What are you afraid of, Jeffrey?’
In the moonlight, his eyes looked like pieces of silver and his voice was no more substantial than the fog. ‘Saw it, Miss,’ he said.
My stomach clutched. ‘You saw Andrew being killed? You saw who did it? Then you must come back with me, Jeffrey, and tell the constable.’
He backed away from my outstretched hand. ‘No. No. They won’t believe me. They’d never believe me. No one will believe a freak like me.’
‘My brother will.’ I closed the space between us. ‘You know that, Jeffrey. You know if you tell Mr Barnum what happened he will listen, and he will believe you, and I will, too. We’ll make sure the constable understands. Only you must tell me the truth, Jeffrey. What happened the night Andrew Emerson died?’
He passed a hand over his eyes. ‘What happened? What happened is—’
I suppose I was so intent on listening to Jeffrey I never heard the footsteps behind me. Jeffrey didn’t, either, not until it was too late. Then I saw his mouth fall open and his eyes go wide, and I would have responded to the alarm if only I’d realized what it meant.
‘You must watch out, Miss!’ He grabbed my hand, spun me around and did his best to push me out of the way, but by that time it was already too late. I saw a figure heavily cloaked, a deeper shadow in the darkness that surrounded us, and then the terrifying flash of pale moonlight against a silver blade.
‘No, Miss, no!’ Jeffrey called out, right before I felt the bite of steel in my side.
I gasped and grabbed at the spot that was already wet with my blood, then fell to my knees on the slick pavement.
The last thing I remember, it was as if the East River itself, deep and murky, had washed over me with its green water.
Then my world went black and the only thing I was aware of was the faintest scent of roses and lavender.
THIRTEEN
I woke to find my brother looking down at me, his usually jovial expression softened with worry.
It was not an unhappy thing to find him there, of course, but because of what felt like cotton wadding in my head it made little sense.
‘Phin?’ I did my best to focus my eyes, but that, too, proved something of a challenge because I was so distracted by my surroundings. There were no darkened warehouses, no ships, and I did not hear the rip and pull of the vicious East River current. Instead there was the glow of sunshine against the walls of what looked to be—
‘My room?’ My voice was rough and I ran my tongue over my lips. They were sticky and tasted sweet. Phin
gently lifted my head from the pillows and put a glass of water to my lips. I drank like a desert nomad and, once he’d settled me, I felt better able to speak. ‘How am I—’
‘Not to worry.’ He sat in a chair next to my bed and put a gentling hand on my shoulder.
‘But how did I—’
‘Evie!’ There was steel in his eyes but his voice was honey. ‘You needn’t talk. You must rest.’
‘Not until I know …’ When I squirmed in an effort to sit up and a stab of pain hit my left side, a wave of frightening memory washed over me and I collapsed against the bed. ‘What happened?’
‘Precisely what I have been wanting to ask you since Sunday night when we found you.’
I was almost afraid to ask. ‘And today …?’
‘Monday. Late in the afternoon. The doctor gave you laudanum to ease your pain and help you sleep.’
‘It cannot be that so much time has passed. Last I remember, it was Sunday night and I was—’
‘Where?’ Phin pinned me with a look.
Exhaustion washed over me and I closed my eyes and did my best to make sense of the situation when I whispered, ‘On Water Street.’
When I opened my eyes, it was to find him shaking his head, not so much in confusion as in wonder. ‘What business would you have at the docks after dark?’
My head cleared and I was sorry for it. As the memories slowly seeped in to take the place of the confusion that had muddled my brain, I saw the scene again before my eyes – the swirl of fog, the flash of a knife and Jeffrey, fighting to keep me out of harm’s way.
Smoke and Mirrors Page 15
