Elspeth’s jaw went slack. “You can’t do that. The Fifth Ward is not a safe place for a lady.”
Deanna was a little taken aback by that notion, but she stood firm. “We’ll be in the carriage, and while you’re visiting Orrin, I’ll go around and visit Joe.”
“You’d never.”
“Yes, I would. There are a few things that I need to discuss with him. And I can’t think of a better time.”
Joe was just returning from lunch at the tavern when a carriage pulled up in front of the warehouse. He was expecting Charles and Lord David; he was shocked to see Deanna Randolph instead.
“What are you doing here?” Joe quickly looked around. This would not do.
“I came to see you. Where have you been?” she asked, sounding annoyed as she took his hand and stepped down to the street. She was wearing a green morning dress with a braided jacket nipped-in at her waist. The color brought out the glow of her skin and the sheen of her dark hair. She looked so out of place on the dingy street, like a rare bird, slightly exotic—something he’d never noticed before—and something he had to admit he found compelling.
But this was no time for thoughts like that. “You’d better come in.”
He stepped ahead of her and unlocked the door.
She brushed past him like an assured doyenne, but he didn’t miss the flush of her cheeks. And he flushed also, remembering the conversation she had overheard at the Casino. Surely she wasn’t here about that.
She’d stopped in the middle of the room, and Joe realized that his dirty dishes were stacked in the wash pan and his shaving kit was left on the counter with a crumpled towel next to it. The door to his bedroom had been left open and the bed was unmade. He crossed the room quickly and slammed it shut. He’d been in a hurry that morning. He hadn’t expected company.
“This is where you live?” she asked.
Joe looked around at his living quarters, kitchen area, and the small bedroom off to the side. It had electricity, some running water, even a tub, if you didn’t mind cold water. It was comfortable enough for him, but for the first time he saw it through someone else’s eyes and realized how squalid it must look to Deanna.
“It used to be the manager’s office. It’s modest, but it’s home.” He’d shocked her. He could tell by her face. He took the defensive. “To what do I owe the pleasure? I’d ask you to sit down, but as you can see, there’s not a comfortable seat in the place.” Just two stools and one rickety straight-backed chair.
“Where are the machines you’re working on?”
“In the back.”
She gave him a look that he remembered well, and that reminded him of happier days, then she immediately walked off in the direction he’d indicated. He ran after her.
“You came to see the new condenser?” Why the hell had she come?
“Not really, but now that I’m here, I’d like to see what you’re doing.”
“I’m afraid it’s rather dirty—and greasy—it’s no place—”
“For a lady?” she finished for him. “Well, I hate being a lady.” She grabbed her skirt in both hands and stomped through the door to the warehouse.
Joe followed. He didn’t know whether to laugh or quake in his boots. He saw Grandmère’s work here. If his grandmother wasn’t careful, she’d derail Deanna’s chances for a good marriage.
“Really, Deanna.”
She spun around. “Did you kill that poor girl? Daisy?”
Joe staggered back.
“Did you?”
“No, of course I didn’t.”
She frowned at him, the scowl that had melted his heart the first time he’d seen her; it hadn’t changed in all the years he’d known her.
She bit her lip, nodded slightly, then shook her head. “Cokey Featheringham . . .”
“I know. Grandmère told me. And if you’re wondering, I didn’t do that, either.”
She blushed more hotly, shook her head.
“Is that why you came? To ask if I was a murderer? Don’t you know me better than that?”
“I used to. Now you’re not the same.”
No, he wasn’t. And neither was she, as much as she might not want to admit it.
“If you’re satisfied that I’m not a murderer, can I put you back in the carriage?”
“I’m waiting for Elspeth. She went to visit Orrin.”
“Look, I’m working on getting him out. Leave it to me. Go back home and wait. I’ll send her word.”
“Was it something I did?”
“What?” he asked, fumbling to switch gears to her train of thought. Deanna’s lightning change of subject—a habit of hers that had always kept him on his toes—surprised him now.
“Why aren’t we friends anymore? Was it that stupid marriage thing?”
“God, Dee. Do you want to marry me?”
“Well, no. I just want things to be like they were before.”
“They—can’t be.” Because the same business that was supposed to bring them together until death them did part, was now just as likely to drive a wedge between them. Joe was afraid it was too late for them ever to be friends again.
She started to say something but changed her mind and stepped away from him. He watched her pick her way across the dirty floor, avoiding grease patches and metal shavings with a grace and assurance that belonged to a woman, not a girl. And yet she stopped in front of his latest work with the same curiosity she’d always had.
“What’s this?”
“It packs refined sugar into bags.”
“How?”
He walked over to it. “When I work the kinks out, the conveyor belt will drop a bag here, where the worker pulls on this lever and the sugar pours into the bag. Then the moving belt takes it to the next station, which I haven’t yet constructed, where the bags will be folded and glued, then packed in larger containers for shipping.”
“To stores?”
“Yes, you’ll be able to buy it right off the shelves and pour it into a storage container at home.”
“Hmm.”
“It will be much more efficient and easier to use and store.”
She turned, frowned at him. “Someone murdered Daisy. I want to help.”
Again that unexpected change of subject. Joe realized it was an efficient way of startling someone into saying more than he intended. But not Joe. “I’m working on Orrin’s release. Be patient.”
“I’m glad, but it doesn’t solve the problem of who actually killed her. If the police don’t find the killer, they’ll go after Orrin again. It’s what they always do.”
“How do you know what they always do?”
“Don’t be dense. The police are afraid to go after the cottagers, so they always come after people who live in the Fifth Ward because they are poor. Elspeth told me,” she added in an afterthought.
“Well, there’s nothing you nor I nor anyone else can do about that. We’ll have to leave it to Will to find the real culprit.”
“But how can he, if it turns out to be one of the Bellevue Avenue people?”
“He’ll do the best he can.”
“They won’t cooperate.”
Joe shrugged and tried to nudge her back into the front rooms. “Will Hennessy will do what he has to do.”
She turned on him. “I’m staying at the Woodruffs’. I could ask questions. We’ve already found out more about Daisy’s movements that night.”
Joe skittered to a stop. “We?”
“Elspeth and I. We searched Daisy’s room, and Elspeth asked the staff who had seen her. I can look for clues. Maybe it was someone at the party.”
“You searched Daisy’s room? Why?”
“Well, Elspeth let the housekeeper think she was supposed to clean out Daisy’s possessions, so I went, too. Everyone said she died because she w
as meeting someone, and Elspeth swears Orrin would never have asked her to leave her duties to meet him on a cliff. I thought there might be clues in her room that the police missed.”
“And did you find any?”
She shook her head.
“Dee, listen to me. Stop this now.”
“Why?”
“Because it might be dangerous. You don’t know whom you can trust. Please stay out of it.”
“You and Bob always said that when you thought I couldn’t keep up. But I always could.”
That was true. And he could use a pair of eyes in the Woodruff household. . . . But it was too dangerous. He took her by the shoulders. “Dee, listen to me. There are things you don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.” She fisted her hands on her skirt. Fierce, so like the young girl who used to follow them, got into scrapes just to be a part of the fun, attempted antics way beyond her size or ability. She knew no fear.
He smiled. “I see that coming out has done nothing to tame you.”
“Tame me? Tame me? Is that what you want?”
“An unfortunate choice of words.”
“Ugh. You’re as bad as Mama. I don’t want to be tamed or proper or any of those things. I want to be like Gran Gwen and travel, meet interesting people, and have affairs—” She stopped; heat suffused her face as Joe watched, tongue-tied. “Well, maybe not affairs, but you know what I mean. Let me help. I’ll be careful. Just tell me what I can do.”
“No.”
“If you don’t include me, I’ll do it myself.”
“Not if I telegraph your father and tell him to come get you.”
“I won’t go.”
“Dee—” How could he tell her that what he was looking into might ruin the family of her best friend or, worse still, ruin her own? Maybe Daisy’s death and his line of inquiry were unrelated, but that didn’t make one less dangerous than the other.
On the other hand, Dee was fully capable of taking matters into her own hands.
It might be better to enlist her help rather than let her blunder around stirring up trouble that she wouldn’t be prepared for.
His thoughts were stopped by a frantic knocking at the outer door. He went to open it.
Elspeth ran in and stopped in the middle of the room. “They wouldn’t let me see him.” She burst into tears.
Joe pulled out a straight-backed chair from under the scrubbed-wood table. Deanna sat Elspeth down, knelt down, and held her hands. “Tell us what happened.”
“I went to the station and asked to see him. That nasty old Sergeant Crum said to go away and that Orrin wasn’t allowed any visitors. I told them I was his sister and they didn’t care. Nobody cares about us.”
“Of course they do,” Deanna soothed. “Joe and I do.” She cast Joe a look.
“Of course we do,” he said. “I’ve already been to the judge this morning to arrange bail, but he was out of town. I went to the chief of police, but he said I had to wait until the judge returned.”
Elspeth looked up at him over her hands. “You’d do that for Orrin?”
“Of course. Grandmère is calling on the mayor today; hopefully, that will move things along. But, evidently, this envelope they found makes them think they have enough evidence against Orrin to hold him for trial.”
“Why? What was in the envelope?” Deanna asked. “Will wouldn’t tell me. Did he tell you what was in it?”
“In confidence.”
Deanna waited. “We’re not leaving until you tell us.” She crossed her arms. Elspeth crossed hers.
Joe sighed. “Will said the envelope was empty, but Orrin’s name was written on the outside.”
Deanna frowned, pulled one of the stools close to Elspeth, and perched on it. After a few seconds, she said, “How could that implicate him? If she was sending him a letter, it meant she wasn’t planning on seeing him. And if there was no letter in the envelope—”
“The police think the killer took it.”
“But left the envelope clutched in her hand? Why not take the envelope, too?”
Joe pulled up the other stool for himself. “I asked the same thing. And they don’t have much of an answer. They are saying that they may have struggled and she fell or was pushed over the cliff before he could get it.”
“So why not climb down after it? It’s an easy enough climb.”
“Orrin didn’t do it,” Elspeth said.
Deanna was glad to see her maid’s grief changing to anger.
“Besides, Elspeth says Daisy didn’t read and write that well.”
“She didn’t write at all?” Joe asked.
Elspeth sniffed and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve to wipe her nose. “Some, but she only came over from Ireland a few months ago, and she hadn’t learnt to read or write much over there. She couldn’t have written a whole letter. Miss Deanna saw her letters.”
Deanna nodded and rested her elbow on the table. “She would have had to ask someone else to write it for her. We just have to find out who, and then we’ll know why it was so important for the killer to take it.” She rested her chin on her fist. “And why he conveniently left the envelope addressed to Orrin behind.”
Joe stood, took a couple of steps away.
“What?” Deanna asked. “Don’t keep us in ignorance, please.”
He turned back to them. “I saw Daisy the night of the party.”
“We already know that thanks to Cokey.”
Joe gritted his teeth. “She was sneaking out to see Orrin as I was leaving. She said she needed to talk to him about something. I made her go back inside. That’s all I know or did.” He cast a look at Deanna, who met his eyes briefly but looked away. He couldn’t tell whether she believed him or not.
He turned his attention to Elspeth. “When did you last see her?”
“It was when we were watching the dancing from the oriel window. Miss Deanna was waltzing with Lord David. And it was so beautiful. Then Daisy just up and rushed off.”
Joe saw Elspeth’s lip quiver, and he hurried on. “That must have been right before I saw her. It was fairly early. I left right after . . .” He hesitated.
“Right after you saw me,” Deanna supplied.
Ignoring that minefield, Joe said, “A little later. And I sent her back inside. You didn’t see her again?”
Elspeth shook her head.
“Did she tell you what she had to do?”
“No,” Elspeth said. “Just that she had something she had to do. She would have told me if she was planning on sneaking out of the house to meet Orrin.”
“She may have just lost track of time,” Joe said.
Elspeth gave him a look. “That’s not the kind of thing that would have slipped her mind while she was watching the dancing. It was like she had forgotten to do something, like one of her chores. Like making up the fire in Mr. Woodruff’s room or turning down Lady Madeline’s bed. But when I went after her, I couldn’t find her. It was like she’d just disappeared. Just like—”
“What?” Deanna and Joe asked together.
“Nothing really, only that while we were watching the dancing, I felt like someone was watching us. I turned around and a shadow moved away.”
“Probably one of the musicians,” Joe said. “Isn’t that where they play?”
Elspeth nodded. “She must have left the house. That’s why I couldn’t find her.”
“Okay, so we know that she left after she was watching the dancing, then went back inside. Then what?” Joe knew he shouldn’t encourage them, but he had problems to solve, and frankly he could use some input.
“Then she went out again,” Deanna said. “But if you saw her on the street the first time, why did she end up on the cliff walk the second time?”
“Maybe she was afraid someone would see her on the street, l
ike I did. Maybe when I sent her back inside, she went straight through the yard to the walk and planned to take the long way around, but someone stopped her.”
“No. She came right back inside the house.”
“How do you know?”
Elspeth looked exasperated. “I asked.”
“So she went out again later?”
“Must have. But I don’t know when.”
The three of them grew silent.
“We’ll have to find out,” Deanna said.
“Listen to me, Dee. Speculation is one thing; putting yourself in a possibly dangerous situation is not acceptable. Let Will figure it out,” Joe said. “He’s trained and he knows his job.”
“And he’ll do absolutely nothing,” Deanna said.
“You’re not being fair. He’s doing his best.”
“Perhaps,” Deanna said, sounding haughty. “But neither master nor servant will tell him the whole truth. But they will tell us.” She stood. “Come, Elspeth. We must be going.”
She headed for the door. Joe barely reached it in time to open it for her.
“Remember, what I told you about the envelope was told in confidence,” he said. “The less people know about the investigation, the more likely they’ll be able to find the real culprit.”
Deanna gave him an impish look. “Our lips are sealed.”
She swept past him, Elspeth following in her wake.
Joe opened the carriage door and helped them inside. Then he leaned in after them. “I mean it, Dee. Keep your eyes and ears open if you must, but do not get into any trouble.”
“We won’t.”
“And talk to no one about this but me or Will.” He shut the door and the carriage moved away. He watched them go—two women, one intelligent and energetic, one fiercely loyal to her brother and her mistress, and both staying at Seacrest.
It was infamous of him to even think of asking for their help. But it was obvious that he couldn’t stop them. He would just have to figure out a way to keep them from getting hurt.
Chapter
12
“All right,” Dee said as the carriage rattled along Thames Street. “A quick stop at Randolph House, and we’ll be back at Cassie’s in time for tea.” It was then that Deanna realized the coachman might be inclined to tell his mistress where he had driven them earlier. Unfortunately, she wasn’t carrying enough money for an adequate bribe. Perhaps she could ask Cook for a loan from the larder money.
A Gilded Grave Page 14
