A Gilded Grave

by Shelley Freydont

  Everyone turned.

  “The question,” Vlady Howe said, “is what happened to you?”

  “Caught in the rain. Alas, we’d barely gotten outside before the sky broke over our heads.”

  Deanna nodded, hoping the admiration she was feeling for Joe’s acting skills would appear as infatuation and not idiocy.

  Herbert stepped forward. Deanna held her breath.

  “There’s been a break-in. Did you happen to see anyone out there?”

  Joe shook his head, smiled. “But quite frankly, I wasn’t really paying attention.”

  Deanna saw the knowing smiles from some of the men. Her reputation would be ruined after tonight.

  The only one who appeared not to find it amusing was Herbert Stanhope, but he held his tongue.

  What was he up to? Deanna wondered. He’d never shown any real interest in her, so it couldn’t be that. Then she remembered that his mother was a Havemeyer—had he been the one to ransack the office and attack Joe? Surely it couldn’t be that, either. She hadn’t noticed one way or the other whether Herbert was participating in the charades. He could have slipped out, bashed Joe on the head, and come back into the foyer to join the ruckus.

  Herbert was fun-loving, dependable, could keep his friends laughing for hours, and didn’t seem to care a whit about business. On the other hand, wasn’t that an excellent disguise for a spy?

  “Did they steal anything?” Joe asked, addressing Neville, who was standing in the doorway.

  “I don’t know, sir. Mr. Woodruff has been put to bed. He isn’t well and madam has called for the doctor.”

  “Mr. Woodruff is back? Where are Charles and Lord David?”

  “They didn’t return with the master. Perhaps they are following.”

  “Shouldn’t you telephone the police?” Deanna asked.

  “I believe Mr. Woodruff would prefer that we handle this ourselves.”

  Joe whispered in Deanna’s ear. “Too late for that, I’m afraid.”

  What had he found out? The evidence of misdoings? He held the answer inside his vest.

  “Under the circumstances, I think we should make it an early evening and leave the family in peace.” Vlady began rounding up the guests, and soon everyone was heading for the front door and their carriages. He stopped by Neville. “Give our sincere wishes for Mr. Woodruff’s speedy recovery.”

  Deanna tried to catch Joe’s eye, but he, too, was following the others toward the door. How could he leave her without letting her know what he’d found? She had half a mind to go after him, then remembered her damp and wrinkled state. She’d caused enough scandal for one night.

  Outside, carriages had already begun to line up on the drive, and Joe was feeling uncomfortably damp. His head spun whenever he moved it too quickly. He’d sent the Ballard carriage back earlier, meaning to return to the warehouse after the party. He wasn’t looking forward to walking back to the Fifth Ward now. In fact, he was fairly certain he wouldn’t make it that far.

  Herbert Stanhope caught up to him. “Can I give you a ride? I know you’ve probably come on your bicycle, but I’m sure they won’t mind if you leave it overnight, considering the weather.”

  “Kind of you, Herbert. Thank you.”

  “I’m down there.” They strode past various equipages until they came to a shiny black-and-red-trimmed tilbury. “I feel sorry for those folks who drove open carriages tonight. I could have told them it was going to rain.”

  “You were right about that,” Joe said ruefully before he climbed onto the carriage seat.

  Herbert snapped the reins, and they started off, Joe bracing himself against the throbbing in his head.

  “Are you going to the factory or to Bonheur tonight?”

  Joe eased out his breath. “Bonheur, I think. I could use a hot bath. Do you mind going out of your way? You can take me back to town and I can hire a hackney.”

  “No, actually I wanted to have time to talk to you alone.”

  “About tonight?”

  “I’m sure you have your reasons for that. Something else. They might possibly be related.”

  Joe immediately grew wary. “You didn’t hit me over the head and ransack Woodruff’s office, did you?”

  Herbert coughed out a laugh. “Is that what happened? Did you get what you were looking for?”

  “Perhaps,” Joe said warily.

  “Fair enough. So here is something you might find interesting: I was reading the Tribune the other day at the Reading Room. My father and my brother, Thornton, were there discussing business as usual, and I happened to overhear my father mention that Uncle Henry said he’d bought shares in R and W to the sum of a third of their assets.”

  “What? That’s nonsense.”

  “Well, the Havemeyer side of the family doesn’t deal in nonsense. So if Uncle Henry says he bought it, you can believe he bought it. My father said he had arranged to transfer the stocks next week. I suspect that’s why you were rifling Woodruff’s office tonight.”

  “Actually it was an informational quest, but if Woodruff is involved with the sale of that stock, it could answer a lot of questions,” Joe said. “But if the stocks haven’t transferred, your uncle doesn’t actually own them yet.” The carriage wheels set up an accompanying pounding in Joe’s head. It was making it hard for him to think clearly. “It’s not too late to stop him.”

  Herbert laughed. “Good luck. Stopping my uncle is about as impossible as climbing the Matterhorn. You may reach him, but you won’t survive the trip back down.”

  “Like the Douglas party of climbers.”

  Herbert nodded more slowly. “One goes down and drags the rest of them down with him.”

  “Did anyone else overhear?”

  “Not that I know of. We were the only ones there at the time.”

  “Well, he didn’t buy them from my father,” Joe said. “He’s tried to. Several times. My father has refused, and I don’t think he would sell to him on principle. No offense, Herbert.”

  “None taken. Uncle Henry’s a hard, driven, greedy man. And indefatigable until he gets what he wants.”

  “I’m fairly certain that Mr. Randolph wouldn’t give in to his demands. He’s been particularly supportive of my work to improve efficiency. And I know my father trusts him.”

  Herbert crowed out a laugh. “My dear Joseph, you can’t trust anyone in business.” He became serious. “Or in families, as far as that goes. But I think you already suspect who the weak link is. That’s what you were looking for in Woodruff’s study tonight. Evidence.”

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “Because I like Deanna, and her father is an honest man—honest enough. But the climate isn’t favorable for honest men.”

  “No, it isn’t. Especially now that the Sugar Trust has the antitrust committee in its pocket.”

  “They’ll put you out of business before it’s all over. They’ve gobbled up most of the refineries on the East Coast and have started on the West Coast. He’s determined to go after the holdouts. My uncle doesn’t make idle boasts, and he won’t quit until he gets what he wants.”

  “Are you warning me or threatening me?”

  “I’m telling you to watch your back. I don’t have a horse in this race.”

  “Are you sure? For someone who has always laughed through life, you seem to know a lot. Are you certain they’re not grooming you for the family business?”

  “Me? That is a laugh. I’m not interested.”

  “You can’t keep playing for your entire life.”

  “My friend, I don’t intend to. But not in sugar. Can you keep something under your hat?”

  Joe nodded. “If doing so is not detrimental to my family or my business.”

  “Fair enough. I’m leaving Newport.”

  “Throwing us over for Sarat
oga or Tuxedo Park?”

  “Germany. I’m only going back to the city long enough to pack my bags.”

  “It’s a little early in the season for the Grand Tour isn’t it?”

  “I’m going to stay for a while. A long while maybe. There’s a guy named Daimler there.”

  “The motor car engine designer?”

  “Yes. That’s going to be the future. Automobiles. They’re having a bit of trouble over there.” Herbert paused to laugh. “Daimler got caught up in licensing his engine to some Brits who then ousted him and his main designer and took over. But he’s working back in Germany, and when he gets things running, he’ll have my inheritance to help keep him going.” Herbert smiled. “Unless I bring the whole outfit back to the States to run.”

  If Joe’s head hadn’t been aching like it was about to explode, he would have slapped Herbert on the back. “Good luck.”

  “And God knows I’ve learned enough about power—mechanical and human—just being around it. I don’t plan to misuse it, but I do plan to be out there on the advance guard.”

  “Damn. I think I’ve underestimated you, Herbert.”

  “That’s okay. Everyone does.”

  It was nearly a half hour before all the carriages were summoned and the guests had been sent on their way. Deanna had changed into dry clothes, hidden her hair under a scarf, and come back downstairs.

  With Mrs. Woodruff in attendance on her husband, the responsibility for the farewells had rested with Cassie, but she was so worried about her father—not to mention frightened by his appearance—that Madeline often had to say her good-byes for her.

  Even Deanna helped out, though her mind was not on farewells, but on trying to figure out what was happening. And she was worried about Joe. He’d left without a word to her. God forbid he had decided to ride his bicycle back to the warehouse in the rain. He would have an accident for certain.

  “I wonder how your papa is,” Madeline said to Cassie when the last guest had departed.

  “I don’t know. Mama hasn’t come down to see to any of the guests. It must be bad. You were a big help, so calm. All I could do was stand in the doorway and stare.”

  Madeline gave her a quick hug. “It’s because it’s your papa. If it had been mine, I would have been standing and staring, too.”

  Cassie gave her a watery smile.

  “I just hope I didn’t overstep.”

  “Of course you didn’t. Did she, Dee? I’m sure Mama appreciates it.”

  Cassie and Madeline smiled at each other. Deanna felt like the odd man out, which of course she was. It seemed to her that Madeline had assumed the role of mistress of the house too easily. Did she and Charles already have an understanding? And where was Charles? Why had Mr. Woodruff come home without the other two? What had he needed in the library? The same thing that had upset Charles so much, and which, if Deanna guessed correctly, was currently residing in Joe’s vest?

  They had just turned to go upstairs when the front door opened and Charles ran in, drenched and looking almost as wild as his father.

  Neville, who had just been going into the parlor, strode out to meet him.

  “Did my father come home?”

  “Yes, sir. He’s upstairs now. With Mrs. Woodruff. He was not feeling well.”

  “And is Lord David with him?”

  Neville blinked. “No, sir. We thought he must be with you.”

  “Oh, Charles,” Cassie said. “Thank God you’ve come. Papa’s not himself.”

  “No,” her brother echoed. “And no one has seen Lord David?”

  “No.”

  “But where is he?” Madeline asked. Her voice was strident with worry. “Why didn’t he come in with your father or with you?”

  “Perhaps he did, miss. I’ll summon his valet to check his room.”

  Madeline nodded disjointedly. “I don’t understand. Didn’t you come with them, Charles?”

  “No, I had some business in town, and when I returned to the hotel, the concierge said they had taken a hack to Grand Central Terminal. I thought they must be retuning here via Wickford,” Charles said. “Fortunately I ran into Dickie Hermann and imposed upon him to run me back here on his yacht—we made excellent time. It’s the only reason I got here when I did.”

  Swan appeared at the top of the stairs. He came no farther, just stood, tall and massive, and shook his head.

  “Swan. He must be here,” cried Lady Madeline, clasping her hands under her chin as if beseeching him or praying. “Did you look everywhere?”

  Swan nodded.

  “I’ll go myself.”

  Charles stopped her. “If he were here, surely he would make himself known to us.”

  “We’ll have to call the police.”

  “No, Maddie, I’ll take care of it. We’ll just have to ask my father where he is.” Charles climbed the stairs.

  Cassie sank down on the staircase as if she were still a little girl. “I don’t understand what’s happened. They weren’t supposed to be back until the weekend.”

  Deanna sat down next to her. “I don’t, either. We’ll just have to wait for Charles to tell us.”

  “We have to find him. He may be lying hurt somewhere, or—or worse.” Madeline cried and began to pace in front of the staircase. “What if your papa has left him somewhere to die?”

  Cassie jumped up. Deanna pulled her back down. “She’s distraught. She doesn’t mean it.”

  It was the first time Deanna had seen Madeline lose her aplomb, and Deanna felt a concern that surprised her. But she knew what it was to lose a brother, and she fervently hoped that Madeline would find hers alive and well.

  “But Papa wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “Of course not,” Deanna said.

  After a while Neville came out to say that a fire had been laid in the back parlor if they would like to wait there. But neither Cassie nor Madeline, who had finally sat down next to Deanna, moved.

  “Thank you, Neville, but I believe we’ll wait here for a while,” Deanna said.

  “Very well, miss.”

  “I’m sorry, Cassie,” Madeline finally said. “I didn’t mean it. I’m just so scared.”

  “That’s okay,” Cassie said, and sniffed.

  They fell silent again.

  Deanna had just about given up seeing Charles again that night when he descended the stairs.

  All three of them jumped to their feet.

  “Any news?” Cassie asked.

  “Does he know where David is?” Madeline asked.

  Charles looked frightfully white. “He’s out of his head. I think I should go into town and see if someone saw them at the docks or if they got off the ferry together.”

  The doorbell gonged.

  They all turned, then moved as one toward the door.

  Neville somehow managed to get there before them. He opened the door and stepped back.

  Lord David stepped in. His clothes were muddy, his trouser knees were torn, his cheek was bruised, and there were smears of dirt across his cheeks.

  “David!” Lady Madeline rushed toward him and threw herself at him. He staggered back. “Easy, sister. I’ve had a bit of a time of it.”

  “There’s a fire in the back parlor,” Deanna said.

  Charles nodded. “Neville, send for Lord David’s man, and bring the whiskey.”

  “I’m fine, I assure you. Just an adventure. Did your father make it home?”

  “Yes, he’s upstairs in bed. Not well, I’m afraid.”

  Lord David shook his head. “Thank God he’s safe. I tried to stop him.” He swayed. “I think I will have that whiskey before I change into some decent clothes.”

  Neville bowed, Charles took Lord David’s elbow, and they all followed the two men to the back parlor.

  As soon as he was made com
fortable in a wingback chair pulled close to the fire and was holding a glass of whiskey, Lord David filled them in on the adventure he’d been through.

  “After you left the hotel this morning, Mr. Woodruff received a call. He told me to wait for him at the hotel, which I did. He didn’t come back for maybe two hours, and when he did, he was very agitated. Said there was only one thing he could do. I had no idea what he was talking about, but of course I was alarmed and vowed to myself not to let him out of my sight. He went straight to the train station. I was close enough to hear where he was going. So I purchased a ticket and got on the train, too. I didn’t want to confront him in such a public place.

  “I waited until I thought he was calm enough and then presented myself to him. The train ride seemed to have soothed him. He seemed better, but when we arrived at this Wickford place, he once again became agitated. Asked me to get him a glass of whiskey. I did, and when I returned, he was gone.

  “By then I’d missed the ferry to Newport and had to pay someone to take me across. No sooner had I reached the Newport wharf than I was set upon by some of your rougher element. I must say I acquitted myself quite well, but they managed to relieve me of my money and watch. So I was forced to walk here. And arrived as you see me now.”

  “Oh, David,” Madeline cried. “I wish we had never come to this place.”

  “Now, now, Maddie. I’m quite fine. Though I do relish a hot bath.”

  “By all means,” Charles said. “Just one more thing.” He looked around at the others. “Did father say anything as to why he was so distraught?”

  “Alas, no. I’m afraid he wasn’t making much sense.”

  “I see. Please have your bath and anything else we can provide. I appreciate this, more than you can know.”

  “Charles, Charles. It’s nothing, I assure you. I’m just sorry that I wasn’t faster on the uptake. And now I’ll say good night.”

  Madeline tried to go up with him, but he kissed her forehead and turned her away. “I believe that between Swan and me, I’ll be able to accomplish a bath quite well without you. Charles. Ladies.”

  Charles waited until he was gone, then went into the library and shut the door.