by Kate Parker
“How did you get in?”
“Get in?”
“To the house. Did Lord Kaldaire let you in?”
I looked at him, wide-eyed. “No. He couldn’t have, could he?”
“Then how did you get in?” His eyes, showing me a light into a mind that appeared calm, bright, and nonjudgmental, drew the answer out of me.
I glanced at Lady Kaldaire. “The French doors to the breakfast room don’t lock properly.”
Lady Kaldaire made a small humpf.
“How did you get here? You’d have stood out on the streets like that, a fine-looking woman dressed as a boy.”
“Fine-looking” shocked me for a moment. No one ever noticed me. Only my hat designs.
I felt heat on my cheeks at his unexpected words. I knew he’d seen my blush when he smiled and said, “So, how did you get here unnoticed?”
“I rode over on a horse cart.”
I immediately realized my mistake when he nodded to the bobby, who left the room.
“He’d be gone by now. He wouldn’t know anything. He can’t help you!” The last thing I wanted was to involve Matthew in this mess.
“Your protestations tell me he can. I see you wear gloves. Is that to hide fingerprints? Did you know we can identify you by your fingerprints now?”
I looked down at my smooth leather gloves, so handy for the heavy work of steam-pressing ribbon and hat brims and now dyed black. I drew myself up to my middling height. “No. I’m not trying to hide my fingerprints. I’m not a criminal. And no, the cart boy can’t help you.”
“Well, we’ll soon find out.”
I prayed Matthew had given up on me and returned home when he first saw the police. He was so young. Would he know instinctively to run at the sight of bobbies?
The inspector sounded cold and impersonal, and I knew he’d learned all he wanted from me. “If you both could come with me, I won’t have to delay you much longer.”
I nodded and walked out of the room. The trousers and shirt that had felt so liberating earlier were now overly warm and scratchy. I stopped in front of the study where I could see the front door and wondered how long it would be until I was released.
Inspector Russell and Lady Kaldaire came up behind me. As if he could read my thoughts, Russell leaned over my shoulder and said, “I don’t think it’ll be much longer now, do you?”
To my puzzled gaze, he merely smiled.
“What do you want to show us, Inspector?” Lady Kaldaire asked. “I would like to see how my husband is faring.”
“In here.” He led us into the study. “I wondered why one of the paintings hanging on the wall has been disturbed but not the other.”
I shrugged.
“As you’ve already discovered,” the lady said, “there is a safe behind the painting that was moved. The other is merely an example of poor taste executed with wasted talent.”
The detective walked around the mess of papers that had cascaded onto the floor and moved the painting. We could see the door to the safe behind it was ajar.
“And the contents?” Lady Kaldaire asked.
He swung the door wide. Empty. “What was in there?”
“I don’t know. Very little, I suspect. My jewelry is in my room. Stock certificates and deeds are there also or in the bank.”
“In your room? Out where anyone can take them?” the detective asked.
“Better protected than whatever was in this safe,” she replied drily. “None of the things in my room have been taken.”
“You don’t know what was in this safe?”
“I already told you, Inspector. I don’t.”
I was certain she did know. I couldn’t imagine Lord Kaldaire having many secrets from a wife who kept the stocks and deeds in her possession.
“Is there anything else, Inspector?” She sounded weary of dealing with him.
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and walked into the hall. I followed her, the detective on my heels. At that moment there was a ruckus at the front door. We all turned that way to see two burly policemen dragging one skinny boy into the house.
Matthew.
He was mewling like a frightened kitten and struggling until he saw me. He stopped and, with a heartbreaking sob, managed “Em.”
“Let him go, Inspector,” I demanded, moving in front of the man and staring into his eyes. I was glad to see they weren’t laughing now.
“He wouldn’t tell us nothing, sir,” one of the bobbies said. “We found him a block away on a horse cart. When he wouldn’t say anything, we brought him back here. Struggled all the way he did, for being a slip of a boy.”
“Let him go,” I cried out. “And if my horse and cart are stolen—”
“No one’s stealing anything,” Russell snapped back at me. “Constable, are the horse and cart safe?”
“Yes. One of the lads is bringing them here now.”
“Good. Now suppose you tell me exactly what is going on. And who is this lad?” The inspector’s tone told me he expected the truth.
“He’s my brother Matthew.”
“Well, tell Matthew to answer our questions.” He sounded annoyed.
All my frustration and anguish from the events of this night came out as I blinked back tears. “How can he? Matthew is deaf.”
Chapter Two
“So that’s why…” Lady Kaldaire started and then broke off.
“Why what?” Detective Inspector Russell asked with a sharp look.
The older woman ignored him as she pinned me in place with her gaze. “It’s none of your concern, Inspector.”
I walked over to Matthew and put a hand on his shoulder. His clothes were rumpled and one sleeve was ripped, but I didn’t see any bruises. I kept a protective hand on him, knowing he watched me as I faced the detective. “May Matthew go home, please? He has nothing to do with this. He’s never met Lord Kaldaire nor been in this house before.”
“Does he live with you?”
“Yes. He’s only a child. Please?” I was begging and didn’t care if they all knew it. He was my little brother.
Something flashed in those gray eyes of the detective inspector. “Tell him to go straight home and take care of the beast.”
I turned and led Matthew to the door.
“No. You stay here.”
“I have to show him what I want him to do. I can’t tell him.” I loosed an exasperated sigh. Did he think this was easy? “I’ll be back inside in a minute.”
He must have quickly discounted the risk of my fleeing, because he nodded.
Matthew and I walked out to the cart, followed by an older constable. I patted the horse, then pointed to Matthew and mimed grooming. When he nodded, I pointed to him again and put my head on my hands like a pillow. He nodded again and I hugged him.
He pointed to me and then pointed to the cart. I wished I could leave, but it would be safer for him if I stayed. I shook my head and gave him a smile. Then I waved good-bye and walked toward the house, swallowing my fear for myself. Matthew was safe.
When I heard the cart wheels and the hooves clatter on the paving stones, I turned to watch Matthew drive away. He didn’t look back. At least none of the constables hindered him.
When I entered the house, I found Lady Kaldaire missing and Detective Inspector Russell waiting with his arms crossed over his chest. “Where is—?”
“Seeing to Lord Kaldaire. Now, come with me, and answer some questions.”
He led me back to the morning room, where one light still burned, and told me to have a seat. He sat across from me while an older constable took a seat a little way from us and pulled out his notebook. “I believe you said your name is Emily Gates. And your brother is Matthew Gates?”
“Yes.”
“Your address?”
I gave it to him.
“Is that your hat shop or your residence?”
“Both. We live over the shop.”
“And your parents?”
“My mother�
�s dead.”
“And your father?”
“I haven’t seen him in a while.” That was true. I avoided him and my uncles and cousins like they carried the plague.
The damage they could do to my reputation would be worse than any plague. If I tried to utilize their techniques on occasion to convince my aristocratic customers to pay their bills, that was my own fault and had nothing to do with them.
I hoped he wouldn’t make the connection between my father’s disreputable family and me. If he did, my only hope was for Lord Kaldaire to recover and name his attacker. Otherwise, I’d go to prison.
Prison. The hell my father threatened me with when I misbehaved as a child. A cold shiver of apprehension ran down my spine.
“Tell me again what you saw when you came into the study tonight.”
I told him, swallowing hard when I came to the part about finding the master of the house in his study, sprawled out on the floor. I shuddered as I pictured the hair and blood and brains…
“And your reason for being here dressed like a boy, Miss Gates? It is Miss Gates?”
“Yes, it is. Lord Kaldaire and I were playing a game…”
“One involving grievous bodily harm?”
“No!” How was I going to answer this detective without telling him my plan? It seemed so stupid now.
“What does this game consist of?”
“His wife owes me for some hats I’ve designed for her. Lord Kaldaire makes a game out of paying me. I suppose if you have everything, life must get dull.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he admitted.
“I do. I have a very posh clientele. Wealthy or aristocratic. Sometimes both. Anything they want, they just have someone create it for them. Including excitement if life gets boring.” That much was true. Now I’d find out how much I could slide past this man.
“What kind of excitement did you create for Lord Kaldaire?” His eyes looked cold as steel.
“I was to pretend to break in and demand money from him. Each time I would have to choose a different hour and a different disguise. As you can imagine, this is embarrassing.” As was lying, but if it kept me out of jail…
“Does Lady Kaldaire know about this?”
“I’m not sure. She’s his wife. He may play games with her, too.”
The detective winced at that.
Good. Now maybe he’d drop his line of questioning.
“How often have you two played this game?”
“This is the first time. I doubt it will be the last.” I let my distaste for everything, my story, begging for payment, the police, the expense of a school for Matthew, leak out in my voice.
“Why do you let your clients treat you like that?” His voice held an answering dismay.
“I need the money.”
“Not that badly.”
His scorn angered me. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Tell me. What sends a respectable young woman like you out in the middle of the night playing at burglary to collect the price of a few hats?”
I must have been tired to ever admit anything to him, but he’d met Matthew. He’d understand. He had to. “Do you know how much a place at the Doncaster School for the Deaf costs?”
He shook his head, never taking his eyes off me.
“My hats are some of the most admired in society. They cost quite a lot. But it takes selling a great number of hats to send one boy to the School for the Deaf, and pay for his travel, his books, his lodging, his food, and his school clothes.”
“Must be like attending university.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Then I looked at his face and saw that he did know. “Did you finish your course of study?”
He shook his head. “I could only afford one year and never managed to go back. Do they have scholarships to the School for the Deaf?”
“Very few, and the need is huge.” I hid my yawn behind my hand. “Is there anything else?”
“Did you see anyone in the area when you arrived here? Anyone in the house before you awakened the servants?”
“No one. The place was like a graveyard.”
“Do you know a man called Jeremiah Pruitt?”
The change in topic surprised me. “No. Who is he?”
“No one.” He spoke in an offhanded tone, but I doubted he did anything without a good reason. I would remember the name.
He asked me a few more questions about my business and Matthew, and finally let me go.
When I arrived back at our flat above the shop, I found Matthew asleep and Noah, my mother’s cousin and our business partner, waiting up for me. His gray hair was disheveled and he’d wrapped a blanket around himself against the night chill. “The boy said you were in trouble, but he couldn’t tell me anything else.”
“Going after the Lady in Blue was a mistake.” I dropped into a chair.
He sat across from me. “I told you using your father’s family’s techniques would blow up on you. You were caught.”
“No. I had to summon the household. I found the master in his study with his head bashed in.”
“You should have left him for someone else to find,” he lectured in his sleep-graveled voice.
“He was alive. Hopefully he still is.”
“Oh. That is different.” He rose and began to pace. “What did you tell them?”
“As little as possible. And if the police question you, you know nothing about my comings and goings.”
“I helped raise you,” he grumbled. “It’s a little late to act like I’m only your hatmaker.”
“The police don’t know that.” I hoped for his own safety he would lie.
“What about her ladyship?”
“Told me to come back in the morning to get a bank draft from her. She had no idea why her husband wasn’t paying the bills.” I rose stiffly. “Go to bed, Noah, and don’t worry. I’m innocent. They can’t hang an innocent woman.”
At least I prayed they couldn’t.
He snorted. “You’ve listened to your father’s family too often.”
Fear of the consequences of this mad night made me shiver. “If—if they’re wrong, and the police take the easy way out and decide I struck Lord Kaldaire for the money he owes me, promise me you’ll see that Matthew and Annie are taken care of.”
Noah stopped in front of me. “Come here.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t fret, Emily. We’ll find a way to send Matthew to Doncaster. You two are my family. I’ve known you both since you slept in the workshop in a basket as babes. I’ve always tried to do the best for your mother and you. And we’ll turn Annie into the best milliner of her time.”
His embrace made me feel secure. I looked down at the lopsided fabric flowers Annie had been practicing on earlier, remembering going through the same steps under my mother’s guidance. “I’m not sure Annie will ever be a milliner. Let’s hope we can at least help her conquer her fears. Has she given you any hint about her life before we found her?”
“Nothing. You?”
I shook my head. She had told us nothing beyond her first name.
* * *
The next morning, I headed to Kaldaire House before the people of their class would have read their morning paper. The omnibus was full of office clerks, typists, and sales assistants. I was dressed a shade better than the rest of the riders, in a brown walking suit with matching gloves. I wore a high, mannish collar with a small purple bow that was repeated on my wide hat brim. I had topped the hat off with a few purple feathers, dyed and curled to look rarer than the domestic duck they had come from.
Since I had to walk the last few blocks through Mayfair to Kaldaire House, I was glad the overcast sky didn’t open up, drenching me. I didn’t slow down when I saw the bobby on the stoop; I merely nodded to him and went up to ring the bell.
The butler opened the door and said, “I’m sorry, but…”
“Lady Kaldaire asked me to stop by this morning.”
She came down the stairs at that mome
nt, flanked by Detective Inspector Russell and the doctor I’d seen for a moment last night.
“How is he?” Their grim faces turned my voice into little more than a whisper.
“He died a few minutes ago without ever gaining consciousness.” I was surprised by how little emotion Lady Kaldaire put into that statement.
“I am so sorry.” Those bare words did little to describe the feelings running through me. I was shocked by Lord Kaldaire’s death, even if he’d never thought of me as important enough to pay. I was sad for Lady Kaldaire, who was more decent than most of her class. But mostly I was frightened for myself, since any hope of Kaldaire saying who really attacked him was gone.
“Thank you, my dear.” Lady Kaldaire turned toward her morning room.
“I need to talk to you, Miss Gates,” the inspector said.
I took an involuntary half step back, wishing I’d waited to come here until after the police had left. I tried to swallow away the feel of the noose around my neck.
“I will also be present,” the new widow said, turning back to us.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Inspector Russell clamped onto my wrist with a strong grip.
I didn’t mind Lady Kaldaire listening in, and even if I did, I couldn’t see a polite way to dissuade her.
“I will not have an unchaperoned woman questioned by a man, alone, in my house.”
“Sergeant Dawson will be there also.”
“Two men with a young, unmarried lady? Scandalous.”
Russell pressed his lips together for an instant as he tamped down the humor in his eyes. Then he stared directly at me. “You may not want your customers to hear what we are going to discuss.”
My father’s family. My heart tipped over and sank into my stomach before I could release a breath. “I don’t want Lady Kaldaire to hear our discussion,” I sneered out the last word, “but she has lost more than anyone. I suspect she wants to hear everything that is said, and I think she deserves to have all of her questions answered. No matter how embarrassing it is to me.” Or how ruinous.
