A Worthy Suitor

by Jennifer AlLee

  “Out with ya, now. I don’t have all day.”

  Albert was tempted to ask the officer how many more fingers he had to bash with his club in order to fill his daily quota. Instead, he hurried through the door, careful to keep his hands close to his body. As soon as he was clear, the officer slammed the door and locked it.

  “This way.” Detective Sutter took a firm grip on Albert’s upper arm and led him back down the hall. Once they were out of the holding area, they turned a corner and went down a rather dismal corridor with small doors on either side.

  “Number three,” Officer Wyatt said from behind them.

  Detective Sutter opened the door and motioned Albert in. But when the officer tried to follow, he stopped him. “That’s okay, Wyatt. I’ve got it from here.”

  The officer appeared surprised. “You sure? This one’s tricky.”

  Albert had no idea what the officer was talking about. He’d been in the prison for less than twenty-four hours and had done little more than sit inside his cell, pondering his fate. How did that translate into being tricky?

  Thankfully, Detective Sutter didn’t take the bait. Instead, he took a step forward, backing the officer out and slowly shutting the door as he spoke. “I’m positive. Please don’t let me keep you from the important work you have to do.” The door clicked shut, and before the detective turned around, he added, “Like breaking bones and drowning puppies.”

  Once they were alone, the detective became a bit more personable. “Please have a seat, Mr. Taylor.”

  There were only three objects in the room: one battered table and two uncomfortable-looking chairs. Albert sat in one, while Sutter settled in the other. The detective took a small notebook and a pencil stub from an inside jacket pocket. He flipped through the pages until he came to one covered in notes.

  “Mr. Taylor, did the officers who arrested you explain your rights?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very good. I would like to remind you that anything you say to me can and will be used against you in a court of law. Is that clear?”

  Albert nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  “Very good. Mr. Taylor, you’ve been charged with burglary and assault. It’s my understanding that you claim to be innocent on both counts. Is that correct?”

  “Yes it is. And yes, I did say that. Because I am innocent. I know you hear that all the time, but it’s true. I didn’t steal anything, and I would never hurt anyone, especially Gwen.”

  Detective’s Sutter eyebrow raised just a touch when Albert said Gwen’s name. He should have called her Miss Banks, but it was difficult to adhere to etiquette when your life was on the line.

  Albert leaned forward. “Detective, you have to believe me. I didn’t do what I’m being accused of.”

  “Oh, I do believe you.”

  The words echoed in Albert’s ears until he wasn’t sure if Sutter had said them, or he’d imagined them. “You do?”

  “Yes.” He looked down at his notebook. “I haven’t spoken to everyone who was at the party, but enough of them to catch a recurring theme. No one expected anything like this from you. They all describe you as friendly, charming and sincere. Or some form thereof. Especially that Matilda Banks. She is quite a little spitfire.” He smiled, making Albert think he’d had more than a passing conversation with Matilda. Then the detective hurried on. “Of course, people speaking well of your character is not enough to exonerate you. You’d be amazed how friendly, charming and sincere some killers are.”

  Albert winced at the comparison. “Then why do you believe me?”

  “Because this wasn’t the first robbery to take place during a party held in Tuxedo Park this season. There have been several others.”

  “Really? I hadn’t heard anything about it.” Albert was surprised. The society grapevine should have been buzzing with such news.

  Sutter nodded. “The upper crust doesn’t enjoy being the subject of anything negative. If word got out about the robberies, how long do you think it would take before people decided to keep themselves, and their valuables, at home?”

  Not long at all, which would destroy the season for all of them. “I take it you’ve been investigating all the robberies.”

  “I have. So I already have the guest list for each party, as well as what was taken.” Sutter tapped the notebook with the end of the pencil. “I have to tell you, Taylor, it wasn’t looking good for you. I started checking the lists and it looked like you’d been at all of them. But then, I found your open window. The Baskins reported several valuable pieces of jewelry stolen from their party last week. But you aren’t on the guest list.”

  Albert remembered that Mr. Kane had tried to convince Mr. Baskin to allow Albert to attend, but the host had been adamant. He didn’t want anyone stumping at his party. Mr. Kane had been livid, but there was no getting around it. Albert had been thrilled because it meant he could spend a quiet evening at home.

  “Of course, it’s thin,” Sutter continued. “The fact that you didn’t attend a party where jewelry went missing could simply mean that another thief was at work that night. Or it could mean that Mrs. Baskin is becoming a bit forgetful. Or that Mr. Baskin saw it as an opportunity to sell off some pieces without Mrs. Baskin’s knowledge.”

  “Or it could mean that I’m innocent,” Albert insisted.

  “Calm down, Taylor. Believe it or not I’m on your side. I’ve got my eye on someone else.”

  “Charles Drexler.” The name popped out before Albert could consider the wisdom of keeping it to himself.

  The detective didn’t specifically confirm or deny. “I find it interesting that Mr. Drexler’s story not only contradicts yours, but I haven’t been able to find one other person to corroborate it. What do you know about the man?”

  “Not much.” Albert had been far more interested in Gwen, but he tried to recall what she’d told him about Charles. “I believe he works for Mr. Banks. He’s been staying with the family this summer.” There was something else, something that was probably important, but he wasn’t sure how to reveal it without being indelicate. “I’ve noticed that he has a tendency to be very friendly with members of the opposite sex. He has escorted Miss Matilda to more than one dance, but he then spends most of his time dancing with other women.”

  The detective looked down at his notebook. “Have you noticed him spending an inordinate amount of time with April Falconer, Odette Pettibone or Victoria King?”

  “Yes.”

  “To which one?”

  “To all three. Also Sandra Shelley and Beatrice St. Claire.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Quite,” Albert said. “All of those young ladies tend to be wallflowers. For one reason or other, they don’t get much attention from available gentlemen, so they hang back. That’s why it made an impression on me that Drexler was so attentive to them all.”

  After flipping a few more pages in the notebook, Sutter found what he was looking for. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. That information is a great help.”

  “Does that mean I can go?”

  Detective Sutter laughed, but there was no humor in the sound. “I’m afraid not. Unfortunately, there are a few very vocal members of the community who believe that simply being a villager makes you guilty.”

  Albert cursed under his breath, then immediately regretted the outburst. “Forgive me. But being judged by one’s station is a heavy weight.”

  “I understand, and I agree. The class system is pure rubbish, to my mind. If we believe each human was created in God’s image, which I do, then how can we say one is better than the other based on what job he holds or what section of town he lives in?” The detective pushed away from the table and leaned back in his chair. “As far as I’m concerned, being a villager is no more an indicator of your guilt than anything else. But there’s still the fact that Drexler has stepped forward as a witness. And there’s the unsettling detail of the brooch that was found in your jacket pocket.”

  Yes, that evidenc
e was damaging. When they’d brought him into the police station and searched his person, he’d been shocked when one of the officers had produced it. “I still have no idea how that got there. Although it’s possible that Charles slipped it in my pocket when he told me where to find Gwen.”

  “Yes, that is possible. But we need more than possibilities. So for now, you will remain a guest of the police department until we can find something more concrete.”

  “I understand.” Albert didn’t like it, but the detective’s reasoning made sense.

  “You should also know that I’ll be going to your home today, looking for evidence.” He leaned forward and looked Albert directly in the eye, as if to challenge him. “If you’re innocent, then I shouldn’t find anything.”

  “You won’t find anything.”

  At least not any stolen jewelry or anything else to tie him to the robberies. But would they find Rachel?

  Somehow, Albert believed the discovery he was keeping a woman secreted away at his home might cause more damage than being labeled a thief.

  * * *

  Getting out of the house proved to be more difficult than Gwen had anticipated. Matilda had helped her get dressed, an enterprise which took close to thirty minutes thanks to the pain in Gwen’s head slowing her down more than usual. Once Gwen was ready, Matilda had gone downstairs to make sure the way was clear. She came back a few moments later to report that Mother and Father had settled themselves in the sitting room opposite the stairway landing, making it impossible for the sisters to leave without being seen.

  Now Gwen and Matilda sat on the bed in Gwen’s room, staring at each other in morose contemplation.

  “What do we do now?” Matilda asked.

  “I don’t know.” Gwen wagged her head slowly, careful not to jar it. “If Mother and Father see us trying to leave the house, they’ll stop us for sure. We need a distraction.”

  She considered praying for divine intervention, but it seemed unlikely God would send someone to help her deceive her parents.

  A few moments later, a rumbling sounded outside. It grew steadily louder until it sounded as if it was directly under Gwen’s window.

  “That sounds like an automobile.” Matilda was on her feet and at the window before Gwen could agree with her.

  Matilda pushed the window sash all the way up and leaned out over the sill. “Oh, my.”

  “Who is it?” Gwen asked.

  “It’s the police.” Matilda pulled herself back in so quickly, she thumped her head on the bottom of the window. “They must be here about Albert.”

  Gwen frowned. No doubt they wanted to question her about what had happened the night before. There was no way she could leave now. She had to tell the police what she knew and hope it would exonerate Albert. However, it might make it easier for one of them to slip out.

  “I think I have a plan.” Gwen lowered her voice to a whisper and crooked her finger for Matilda to lean closer. “It may require some exaggeration on your part.”

  Matilda’s lips quirked into a mischievous grin. “I’m up to the task, sister.”

  Gwen smiled in return. She’d expected nothing less.

  Within ten minutes of the policemen’s arrival, Mother had knocked on Gwen’s bedroom door. She was quite surprised to find Matilda perched on the edge of the bed, and Gwen sitting fully dressed in a chair by the window.

  “Being in my nightclothes all day would make me feel like an invalid,” Gwen said. “I asked Matilda to help me get dressed. That and sitting in the sunshine is doing wonders for my constitution.”

  “That’s wonderful, dear.” Mother glanced toward the open door before continuing. “I’m sorry to have to ask you this, but there’s a detective downstairs, and he wants to speak to you. I told him you were resting and I didn’t want you disturbed, but he is most insistent.”

  Matilda sat up a little straighter on the bed. “Is it Detective Sutter?”

  “Yes, it is,” Mother said. “How did you know?”

  “I met him last night. He was speaking to people at the Ashfords’. I tried to tell him that he had the wrong man, but he refused to listen to me.” Matilda rose with an indignant huff. “Forgive me, Mother, but I cannot abide being in the same room as that man. I believe a walk would do me some good.”

  As Mother watched Matilda fly from the room, Gwen held back a grin. It was fortuitous that Matilda already knew the detective. Gwen didn’t know whether she truly had such strongly negative feelings for the man, but it had certainly worked for their purpose. The original plan had been for Matilda to take umbrage with something one of the police officers said, refuse to be in the same room as him, and then stalk off as a cover for finding Jason Adler and enlisting his services to carry out the rest of their plan. But this worked just as well.

  “Well…” Mother’s voice trailed off in the wake of Matilda’s stormy exit. “I can only assume Detective Sutter learned all he needed to from your sister last night.”

  “And then some, no doubt.” Gwen stood slowly, glad to note that her legs felt far less shaky then they had before. “Shall we go downstairs and speak with our guest?”

  Mother nodded and walked Gwen out of the room and down the stairs, keeping one hand on her elbow at all times. Normally, the protective gesture would have bothered Gwen, but now it added a bit of much-needed security.

  Inside the sitting room, Father stood talking to a man who had the shocked look of someone who’d been unexpectedly dressed down. It seemed Hurricane Matilda had given him a word or two before she swept by.

  “Detective Sutter,” Mother spoke up. “This is my eldest daughter, Gwendolyn.”

  He held out his hand. “Miss Banks. I’m sorry to make your acquaintance under such circumstances.”

  Gwen smiled wanly, hoping to elicit more of the man’s sympathy. “Yes, it is all quite distressing.”

  “I assure you, as I have your parents, that I have no intention of making this more difficult on you. I simply have a few questions. May we sit?”

  “Of course.”

  Gwen chose the middle of the davenport and was quickly flanked by her parents. Detective Sutter sat in a large wing-backed chair positioned at an angle, requiring him to sit sideways in order to look her in the eye.

  “Miss Banks, you were found—” he looked down at his notebook “—in the bedroom of Miss Emily Ashford. How did you end up there?”

  “I was looking for a way into the garden, and I became lost. I’ve never been to the Ashfords’ before. The layout is quite complex.”

  “You’re right about that,” the detective agreed. “I got lost a few times myself, just during my investigation last night. Party invitations to that home should come with a map.”

  Gwen smiled, but offered no further information. She wanted to make this interview last as long as possible, despite everyone’s insistence not to tire her. She had to give Matilda enough time to finish her task.

  The detective continued. “I’m curious why you were looking for the garden by yourself.”

  “She always does that,” Father interjected. “Our Gwen is an observer of nature. She’s fascinated by things that would send other females into a fainting spell.”

  Had she detected a trace of pride in her father’s voice? The notion was almost enough to distract her from the task at hand. “Yes, I make it a point to see the gardens of every house I visit.”

  The detective looked doubtful. “Even with all the dancing and music going on inside?”

  “People find beauty in different places,” Gwen said simply. “Have you ever seen a spider’s web glimmering beneath the light of a full moon?”

  “No, miss, I don’t believe I have.”

  “You should. It’s a breathtaking sight.”

  Detective Sutter cleared his throat. “I’m sure it is. So…you were looking for the garden, but you became lost and entered a bedroom. Do you remember what happened next?”

  Beads of perspiration broke out on Gwen’s forehead and a c
hill shook her. How she wished she didn’t remember. Father put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his side.

  “I opened the door and realized I’d gone the wrong way. And then I was turning to leave the room when I saw a man rifling through one of the bureaus. Before I could make a sound, he rushed at me.”

  Gwen stopped and tried to take a deep breath, but something seemed to be blocking the air, keeping it out of her lungs.

  Detective Sutter leaned forward. “Do you need a moment, Miss Banks?”

  Mother had already grabbed Gwen’s hand. “I told you this would be too much for her. You’ll have to go away. She can talk to you later.”

  “No.” Gwen forced out the word. She had to do this now, or they’d continue to believe Albert had hurt her. “No, I’ll be fine. I just need a moment.”

  Now that the air seemed to move through her again, she calmed down. A few slow breaths later, she was able to speak.

  “The man pushed the door shut and reached for me, but I stepped sideways and fell. I must have hit my head on something, because everything went black.”

  “We found traces of blood on a small table by the bed,” Detective Sutter said. “I believe you hit your head on that.”

  It made sense. “The next thing I remember, Mr. Taylor was running into the room to save me.”

  “To save you?” The detective scribbled something in his notebook. “That’s how you remember it?”

  “Yes, because that’s the way it happened. Mr. Taylor found me and stayed by my side until your officers took him away.”

  Father squeezed her shoulder again. “You’ll have to forgive her, Detective. The doctor said her memory might be a bit muddled for the next few days.”

  “My memory is just fine.” Gwen gave her father a cross look, then turned to Detective Sutter. “I remember exactly what happened. The man at the bureau had on a mask of some kind, but I know it wasn’t Albert Taylor. Albert came in later and found me on the floor.”

  Detective Sutter scratched the back of his head. “I see. We have a witness who claims to have seen Mr. Taylor drag you down the hall and take you into that room.”