An Agent for Emily (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 28)

by Amelia C. Adams

  “What time did you arrive here?”

  She looked at Harmonia, a question on her face.

  “It was ten minutes until six,” Emily said, speaking for the first time. “I had just come down the stairs, and I left my room at a quarter till.”

  “We like to eat early,” Mrs. Astor said, sounding apologetic. “My husband can’t sleep if he eats at a more fashionable hour.”

  “Understood, ma’am.” He made another note, and Emily wondered if it had anything to do with Mr. Astor’s digestion. She doubted it.

  “Please help me understand, Officer,” Mrs. Perceval said. “My husband was found along the railroad tracks just outside of town?”

  “That’s right, ma’am.”

  “So he must have been on his way here, and perhaps he slipped off the platform or something.”

  The officer cleared his throat. “Actually, that’s not the case, ma’am. He had been shot.”

  Mrs. Perceval gasped and reached for Mrs. Astor almost blindly. “Shot? So . . . this wasn’t an accident. I thought we were talking about an accident. How could this be?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out, ma’am.”

  “I have a question,” Mrs. Astor said, speaking slowly. “You said you needed to speak with me as well. Officer, where is my husband?”

  He turned his attention to her. “That’s the other thing we’re trying to figure out, ma’am. We know that your husbands bought tickets on the same train, and we know they were traveling together. We also know from speaking with the conductor that they disappeared at roughly the same time.”

  Mrs. Astor’s face went ashen. “And my husband is still missing.”

  “We have men out searching for him right now, ma’am.”

  “And you think he could be dead too.”

  “Until we know for sure, we’re not going to make any such presumptions, ma’am. We’ll find him and then we’ll have the facts. Right now, we’re considering him a missing person.”

  The officer looked like he wanted to ask a few more questions, but both women had entered a state of shock, gripping each other’s hands and not speaking. They looked deflated, as though their souls had been sucked from their bodies leaving empty shells behind.

  “Officer, could you possibly come back tomorrow?” Emily asked quietly. “I don’t think they can handle any more tonight.”

  “We do have a few more questions, but I suppose they can wait.” He looked at her curiously. “Would you know anything about this situation, miss?”

  “I’m afraid not. I’ve never met either of the two men, and I only met these ladies today.”

  “Very good. We’ll be back tomorrow.” He paused. “It would be best if none of your guests went home just yet. We’ll want to question each of them tomorrow.” He gave each lady a nod, then he and his partner left.

  Emily crossed to the sideboard and poured each woman a drink, not sure what they’d prefer. They took the glasses and had a sip, but neither had more than that, and she finally took the glasses away again and set them on the table so they wouldn’t get spilled by shaking hands.

  “What’s happening?” Mrs. Perceval said after several minutes had gone by. “What on earth . . . I just can’t . . .”

  “I don’t know,” Mrs. Astor replied. Her voice sounded strangled. “I have no idea.”

  Emily reached for the bell pull, and when the maid appeared, she said, “Please send for the nurse in Mr. Tobler’s room. I believe these ladies could stand some looking after too.”

  “Right away, miss,” the maid said, bobbing before exiting the room once more.

  Emily stepped out of the drawing room to give the women some privacy, pulling in a deep breath. What was happening indeed. She hadn’t even been a resident of this house for twelve hours, and yet how many things had taken place in that short amount of time?

  She caught movement outside through the window, and moved over to take a closer look. Through the glass, she could see Todd outside chatting with the police officers. Hmm. It looked like she and her so-called husband would have several notes to exchange by the time the evening was over.

  ***

  Todd slipped out of the dining room and exited the house altogether, leaning up against one of the pillars on the front porch. When the police officers stepped outside, he fell into step beside them, introducing himself to them in a low voice.

  “As an agent for the Denver Pinkerton office, I’m here investigating a different matter entirely, but I wonder if there’s anything I can do to help,” he told them.

  “Just what is it you’re investigating, sir?” the more outspoken of the two asked.

  “The alleged embezzling of ten thousand dollars from Mr. Jeremy Tobler’s business,” Todd replied.

  “And who is this Mr. Tobler?”

  “He’s a business associate of Mr. Astor’s.”

  “Hmm. You don’t say.” The officer pulled out his notebook. “So he and Mr. Astor are in business together, and he and Mr. Perceval are also in business together. Seems to me, that’s quite a lot of business being done.”

  “Yes, it certainly is,” Todd replied. “Do you mind my asking what you’re investigating?”

  By the time the officer had finished catching Todd up on all the things he was allowed to share, Todd’s brain was whirling. This couldn’t be unrelated—things like this never were.

  “I’ll let you know what I find out next,” he promised the officers, and they thanked him kindly before going on their way.

  He had walked a short distance from the house with the officers as they spoke, and as he turned to go back inside, he saw Priscilla Duncan standing on the porch watching him.

  “Hello, Miss Duncan,” he said as he climbed the porch steps. “Aren’t you missing out on your dinner?”

  “We’ve finished. Mrs. Donovan took over as hostess since Mrs. Astor wasn’t there, and she insisted that we eat as though nothing was going on. Just what is going on, Mr. Gray? I saw you talking to the police just now.”

  “That? Oh, nothing. I might have been a little too tipsy when I came out here for some fresh air, and they wanted to speak with me about the vices of drink and all that.” He waved his hand as though he didn’t care a fig about any of it.

  “They didn’t tell you why they came?”

  “They can’t share information like that with civilians.” He slurred just a bit. “Civil-ians. Yes. That word.”

  She shook her head, a smile on her face. “You’re quite a disaster, aren’t you, Mr. Gray?”

  “A total and complete disaster.”

  “Did . . . did you mean it when you said you’d like to play lawn croquet with me tomorrow?”

  “I meant it absolutely.”

  “Then I accept. Whether or not my parents are there to chaperone. Honestly, Mr. Gray, they still view me as a child.”

  So did he, but he wasn’t about to say so. “That’s quite a shame, Miss Duncan. And I’m sure it’s broken many hearts back home.”

  Her cheeks were aflame now. “Not so many, I’m afraid. Because my parents are so strict, I haven’t had the chance to meet many young men. I was hoping that this weekend might be different, but my parents only agreed to bring me after speaking with Mrs. Astor and making sure there wouldn’t be any young men here. You were quite a surprise to them.”

  “I wasn’t actually invited,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “I was foisted off on my cousin as she was leaving to come here. It’s not Mrs. Astor’s fault at all.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell my mother that. She’s been ready to have words with Mrs. Astor all day, but there hasn’t been a good time.” She paused. “And it’s still not a good time, is it? Not with the police showing up and all. That’s never a good sign.”

  “I wouldn’t bring it up just yet,” Todd agreed. “But let’s go back inside, shall we? I’m sure that standing out here with me in the dark isn’t healthy for your reputation either.”

  “Perhaps not, but the air
is certainly nicer out here.” She sighed. “All right—back in we go.”

  When they entered the house, Todd saw that Mrs. Astor and Mrs. Perceval had come out of the drawing room and were holding on to each other as though they would topple if either let go. His heart went out to them, but he knew it would look suspicious if he stepped forward to offer comfort as no official announcements had been made.

  The two women walked across the foyer to the door of the dining room, where all the guests had stayed at the conclusion of the meal. Emily was just a few steps behind.

  “May I have your attention, please?” Mrs. Astor said, and every head turned toward her. “Thank you. We have some rather distressing news, and I’m afraid it affects you all.”

  “What’s the matter? What’s going on?” Mrs. Donovan demanded. Hermie gave a short bark as though to emphasize what she’d said.

  “The police have just informed us that Mr. Perceval has been found dead, and my husband has gone missing,” Mrs. Astor replied. Her voice was monotone and strangely calm, but Todd had seen enough people in this state to know that she was anything but calm. She was fighting to maintain her composure.

  Everyone in the room gasped. Priscilla grabbed Todd’s arm. She was a strong little thing, and he tried not to wince.

  “You’ve all been asked to stay as planned so the police can question you tomorrow,” Mrs. Astor went on. “It won’t be the merry party we planned on, but the cook does have some delicious things on the menu, and I’m sure we can find ways to keep things from being too boring for you.”

  “Boring?” Mrs. Cunningham came to her feet and wrapped her arm around Mrs. Astor’s shoulders. “My dear Harmonia, we wouldn’t dream of complaining of boredom. How can we help you?”

  “We must all come together and lend our support,” Mr. Cunningham added. “Mrs. Perceval, do you have any family we can contact for you?”

  “Maurice’s mother will need to be told, but perhaps not quite yet,” Mrs. Perceval said. “Maybe in a day or two, when we . . . when we have more to tell her.”

  Todd stepped forward and stuck a chair beneath the lady just as her knees gave out. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

  Emily spoke up. “As I’m sure you can imagine, these ladies need to retire. Perhaps you could all find ways to entertain yourselves for the rest of the evening.”

  “A game of whist?” Mrs. Duncan suggested, and the guests slowly trickled out of the dining room.

  Emily rang the bell, and within a few moments, the two ladies were being helped upstairs by their maids. She turned to Todd. “I asked Jeremy’s nurse to keep an eye on them as well, and she said she would. She has a mild sedative she can give them, and if she thinks it’s needed, she can ring the doctor for something stronger.”

  “Thank you for thinking of that.” Todd glanced across the hall to where the guests had settled in to entertain themselves. “We need to talk.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  Priscilla exited the drawing room and crossed the floor, taking Todd’s arm. “Come play cards with us,” she coaxed. “There’s really nothing we can do until the police are done questioning us—we might as well find some sort of enjoyment while we can.”

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” Todd replied. “My cousin has asked me to come upstairs with her to check on her fiancé. Something about them needing a chaperone.” He shook his head. “Lovebirds these days.”

  She laughed. “All right, but don’t be long.”

  “I won’t be.”

  As soon as the girl was out of earshot, Emily commented, “She’s not nearly as shy as she was this afternoon.”

  “I believe your friendship is giving her more self-confidence.”

  “As glad as I am to hear that, I must say, I didn’t expect her to start flirting with my husband.” Emily gave a wry smile. “Come on—I have so much to tell you.”

  They climbed the stairs as quickly as they could and found Jeremy sitting up in bed with a bowl of soup.

  “We’ll sit with him for a while,” Todd told the nurse. “Why don’t you take a break?”

  “Oh, I don’t know about a break, but I’ll go make sure that Mrs. Astor and Mrs. Perceval are resting comfortably,” the nurse replied. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Once the door was closed, Jeremy set his soup back on the tray and looked at them expectantly. “What’s going on?”

  They caught him up, sharing the details they’d each gleaned and the others didn’t know. “My first question is this,” Emily said. “Is Mr. Astor dead too, or did he kill Mr. Perceval?”

  “I keep going back and forth in my mind about that very question,” Todd replied. “What would Astor’s motive be for the murder?”

  “And what was in that message Perceval got this morning?” Jeremy wanted to know. “If it was serious enough to cancel their weekend away, it was no small matter.”

  “Mrs. Perceval didn’t sound like she knew,” Emily replied.

  “I wonder if Mr. Perceval was carrying that message in his pocket, and if it’s now in police custody.” Todd sat back, thinking. “I also wonder . . .”

  “What?” Emily asked.

  “I wonder if he told Astor in the telegram he sent him, and I wonder if that telegram is still in this house.”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “We have to look for it.”

  Todd nodded. “And right now is the perfect time. Everyone’s in the drawing room, and they think we’re up here checking on Jeremy.”

  “Which you are,” Jeremy said good-naturedly.

  “We are, but we’re doing a terrible job of it,” Emily replied. “How are you feeling?”

  “Still terrible, but not like I was. Now, go on. What’s your plan?”

  “I think we should sneak down into Astor’s office before they miss us in the card game. Mrs. Astor is in bed, supposedly sedated, so she won’t be wandering around, and no one else has a reason to be in that part of the hallway.”

  “All right, let’s do it.” Emily stood up. “Will you be all right?”

  “I’m fine. They’re taking good care of me—in fact, Mrs. Astor sent me some chocolates from her private sweets box this afternoon.”

  “That was kind of her.” Emily looked at Todd, her face resolute. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  They crept down the stairs. Todd edged forward and made sure that no one was in the doorway of the drawing room to see them sneak past, and then they tiptoed across the foyer and down the darkened hallway on the other side.

  “I wish I could wear trousers,” Emily whispered as they approached the office door. “That would make this so much easier.”

  “You’re wishing for trousers? A refined lady like yourself?” Todd bit back a chuckle. He’d never expected that from her.

  “I can be practical when it’s needed, and this dress is anything but practical.”

  “It’s sure pretty, though.” Todd reached out and tested the handle on the office door. As he suspected it would be, it was locked.

  “You like it?”

  “I like it a lot. You should wear it somewhere else sometime—maybe to a party and not just an investigation.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a long piece of wire. “Keep watch and let me know if anyone’s coming.”

  With the only light being the moon shining through the window at the end of the hall, it was difficult to see what he was doing, but Todd was able to get the wire into the keyhole and jiggle it loose. They slipped into the office and closed the door behind them, each breathing a sigh of relief.

  “I’ll close the curtains,” Emily whispered, crossing the room and grasping the heavy fabric. Once the curtains were in place, the room was as black as pitch, but that’s how it had to be or they’d be seen moving around from outside.

  “We’ll need at least some light,” Todd said, reaching for the candlestick he’d seen on the desk before the curtains were closed. “Oh, there are the matches.”

  “Wait.”

  He heard Emily rustling aro
und. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking off one of my petticoats to shove under the door. The hallway is so dark that any light in here will shine through the crack.”

  He grinned. “Just think—if you were wearing trousers, you wouldn’t have a petticoat, and then where would we be?”

  “All right, dresses do have a few advantages, but a very few.” A moment later, she said, “Go ahead and strike the match now.”

  He lit the candle, and as soon as his eyes adjusted to the faint light, he glanced around the room. It was a very well-appointed office space, with bookcases from the floor to the ceiling on one wall and a fireplace on another. The desk was mahogany, the sort Todd had always thought he might like to have if he ever needed a desk. Of course, that would mean sitting down for large periods of time, and sitting down was something that definitely didn’t interest him.

  “I’ll go through the papers here on the desk,” he whispered. “Why don’t you look in the desk drawers? Any sort of ledger or bank statement or letter—anything that would show that he took the money from Jeremy.”

  Emily nodded and moved to the left side of the desk, opening the drawers as quietly as she could.

  Todd set the candlestick in the middle of the desk so they could both use the light, then looked through the papers on the desktop. The second sheet down was a telegram, and his heartrate picked up a bit when he saw it.

  Running late business difficulties be there by dinner

  It was signed Maurice Perceval, and that was all it said.

  How disappointing.

  “At least we know,” Emily said when he told her.

  “True. Well, let’s see if any of these other papers are helpful.”

  As they looked through all the correspondence, they found letters from each of the house guests saying they’d be more than happy to attend the weekend house party. Mr. Duncan added that he was glad to resolve their dispute. Beyond that, they found nothing that seemed pertinent or important.