“What can I help you with, Mr. Reese?”
Before I could answer, a woman I’d not seen interjected.
“I should be going now, George.”
I turned and nodded to the lady in question.
“Mr. Reese, this is Mrs. Spinks, a family friend,” Easterly announced.
“How do you do, Mrs. Spinks.”
There must have been something uncertain in my tone.
“Yes, it’s Spinks, I’m afraid,” she smiled. “An unfortunate name, but the late Mr. Spinks was a wonderful man. He owned half of Nevada.”
“Idaho, I believe,” Easterly corrected.
“Oh, was that it? Well, I’m sure George is right. I’ve never been west of Chicago.”
“Cincinnati, I believe,” Easterly countered.
“Now George is teasing me. I was in a show at the Chicago Fair back in ’93. Did you attend the fair, Mr. Reese? Ours was a very memorable show.”
“I did, yes.”
“Do you remember Little Egypt, the dancer?”
“Yes, keenly.”
“Well, I played the role of Little Memphis at a burlesque review a mile or two away. Perhaps you saw it?”
“Unfortunately, I was in the company of a puritanical aunt who had little appreciation for the finer arts. And she was footing the bill.”
“Oh, how awful. And you would have been the perfect age for a show like ours.”
“I’m sure I would have agreed. Did your show run long?”
“It did, but I was replaced halfway through by Little Schenectady. It was about that time that Mr. Spinks came along.”
I suppose I could imagine Mrs. Spinks in a show back in ’93, but it must have been near the end of her career. She was of an indeterminate age, more than forty certainly, and probably over fifty. Her henna-dyed hair was done up in an elaborate knot, topped with a sizable, yet tasteful, hat. She had an infectious laugh, and the amusement she took in her ignorance of the late Mr. Spinks’ biography somehow came across as charming. She’d turned and was gathering up her things when Easterly repeated his question to me.
“It’s about the insurance claim you made a couple months back. For some jewelry.” His first reaction was to glance over at Mrs. Spinks, but just briefly.
“That was paid some time ago,” he said.
“Yes, but it’s not the claim per se that I’m investigating.”
“Please sit down.”
We both sat down, and I noticed Mrs. Spinks did the same on the couch beside us.
“There was something of a rash of claims this fall involving jewelry in Washington,” I told him.
“I see. How many are we talking about?”
“Half a dozen since the end of September.”
“But half a dozen thefts, in a city this size?”
“A half dozen claims. Most such losses aren’t insured. Another troubling aspect is that none of the more valuable items have been recovered.”
“Is that so unusual?” Mrs. Spinks asked.
“Well, taken together, it leads one to believe there’s some connection between these cases. You see, the run-of-the-mill burglar isn’t particularly cunning. He sees an opportunity and seizes it. Only then does he try to figure out how to get rid of the goods. Invariably, he sells to someone the police are well acquainted with. Here, we have someone stealing valuable items who also seems to know how to sell them without detection.”
“I see,” Easterly said. “So you think the same thief executed all of the burglaries?”
“Yes, or several of them anyway.”
“Which several?” Mrs. Spinks asked. “You see, I know so many people here.”
“Those of Mr. Easterly, a General Sachs, and Senator Merrill.”
“New Hampshire or Indiana?” Easterly asked.
“Indiana.”
“Have you spoken with them already?”
“I visited General Sachs’ home yesterday, with Detective Lacy.”
“Lacy,” he said. “A good man.”
“No doubt. I tried to see Senator Merrill this morning but had some difficulty finding him.”
“I can help you with the senator,” Mrs. Spinks announced. “He’ll be coming to tea at my house this afternoon. I insist you join us.”
“If you insist,” I smiled back. Then I turned again to Easterly. “I understand you were out the evening of the theft?”
“Yes, my wife and I were at a reception at the British Embassy. When we returned, we noticed a draft coming from my den. I went in to close the window and noticed the safe open.”
“The den is on the second floor?”
“Yes. But it would be an easy climb up the outside of the house.”
“Were there any servants in the house?”
“Yes, the maid and the cook were both up on the third floor, and the governess was in my daughter’s room with her. She sleeps there when we’re out.”
“But none of them heard anything?”
“No, all sound asleep.”
“Did you hire any of your servants through the agency of a man named Chappelle?”
“I believe Lucy, the maid, came from Chappelle.” There was another quick glance at Mrs. Spinks. “My wife would know better.”
“Would you mind if I visit the house?”
“No, by all means. But could you make it tomorrow? My wife is out of town for the day.”
“Certainly, I’ll telephone in the morning,” I said. “What sort of law do you practice, Mr. Easterly?”
“Law? Oh, I don’t practice in the usual sense. You see, our business is more in the nature of facilitating the legislative process.”
“What George means is he’s a lobbyist,” Mrs. Spinks clarified.
“Yes, I see. I imagine that’s very lucrative.”
“Oh, George, Mr. Reese disapproves.” Mrs. Spinks seemed highly sensitive to my intonations. “You must repress that puritanical aunt’s influence, Mr. Reese.”
“I apologize if I sounded judgmental.”
“You’re forgiven. Isn’t he, George?”
“Absolutely. I know the work strikes the average man as repugnant. But it’s those same average men who send these fellows to Washington. Do you have any idea of the mentality we’re dealing with?”
“Mentality doesn’t enter into it at all,” Mrs. Spinks added. And we shared her laugh.
“Exactly. The average first-term congressman arrives as an ego with shoes and a hat. You see, he’s already an accomplished politician and the first thing the voter teaches the politician is that to have a strong opinion about anything is dangerous. So from the time he becomes an alderman, up through his years in the statehouse, he sheds his convictions one by one, until all that’s left is….”
“An ego with hat and shoes?” I offered.
“Yes, just as you say. Now how can you run a government with people like that?”
“Auction off their convictions to the highest bidder?” I asked.
“I don’t think you’re convincing Mr. Reese, George.”
“A short conversation with old Merrill ought to convince him.”
“Of course, it wasn’t the foolish voters who sent the senator,” I pointed out.
“Indirectly, it was. They sent the fools to the statehouse who then sent us the bigger fool.”
“You might want to guard your words, George. It could be very bad for business.”
“Oh, Mr. Reese can be trusted.” He said this as if I’d been placed in his pocket like a first-term congressman.
“Well, I should be going,” I said. “Thank you for your help.” I smiled as we shook hands. I figured it was either that or listen to another sermon.
“I’ll go out with Mr. Reese, George.”
When we reached the street she took my hand and told me I must make it to tea that afternoon. She gave me the address and then added, “Any time after two.”
“A long tea?”
“It’s more of a salon, but that sounds so pretentious. And don’
t judge George too harshly.”
Then she caught a cab and was off. I took a car back to the hotel and went up to the room. About half an hour later Emmie arrived. I’ve always thought women in riding habits looked rather fetching. But Emmie’s appearance that morning contradicted that notion. She was completely covered in mud, head to toe.
“How was the ride?”
“Oh, grand. It’s nice to get out in the open air.”
“It doesn’t look like you spent much time off the ground. My riding lesson wasn’t adequate?”
“Decidedly not, but the chief difficulty was the horse. Remind me to cancel my membership in the S.P.C.A.”
“I didn’t know you were a member of the S.P.C.A.”
“Oh, yes, since I was a little girl.”
“I would have thought you’d have built up some good will by now.”
“Yes, so would I. Of course, Elizabeth should bear the brunt of the blame.”
“Oh? How so?”
“Well, last night she agreed to help me gain an introduction to the countess.”
“Was this after you blackmailed her?”
“Blackmailed her? What’s she been saying about me? I only suggested that one expects one’s friends to provide certain favors.”
“And what favor did you provide her? Promise not to tell the countess about her criminal past?”
“No, certainly not. What do you take me for?”
I wisely set her question aside. “So Elizabeth did provide you an introduction?”
“She said the countess always goes riding in the morning, and suggested I could do the same. What she didn’t tell me was that the countess is an avid cross-country horsewoman. Nor that she is as young as she is. Haven’t you assumed she is an older woman?”
“No, not too old. Just how youthful is she?”
“Youthful enough. And when Elizabeth introduced me, she told the countess I was likewise an enthusiast. So she chose a particularly challenging path for us. How in the world are you supposed to persuade a horse to go up a muddy embankment?”
“I have no idea, but I imagine whatever you tried can be safely struck from the list. Did you at least get what you were after?”
“Oh, yes. The countess is dining with us this evening. I thought we could take her to the Shoreham.”
“Isn’t that the only hotel in town more expensive than this one?”
“She is a countess, Harry.”
“Yes, of course. How do we address her?”
“I believe it’s proper to use ‘Your Ladyship.’”
“I can’t see myself saying ‘Your Ladyship’ to anyone.”
“Then try harder. This is important to me, Harry.”
“Just why is it important to you, Emmie?”
“You’ll find out in time.”
I didn’t doubt that. It was not knowing the manner of my finding out that caused me anxiety.
5
Elizabeth arrived just as Emmie finished dressing. We had luncheon sent up to the room and I told the two of them about my adventures of the morning.
“George Easterly?” Elizabeth asked. “Is he a tall man? I imagine about forty-five now.”
“Yes, do you know him?”
“I used to know him, as a young girl. He was an associate of my father’s.”
“You lived in Washington?”
“No, that was in New York. Easterly had a position with Colonel Mann, the scandal-monger.”
“Which scandal-monger was he?” I asked.
“The publisher of Town Topics. And still is, I believe.”
“What’s Town Topics?” Emmie asked.
“Oh, they print all sorts of gossip about the 400. ‘The Astors’ second parlor-maid seems to have left town rather abruptly, just as young master Astor has been shipped off to Europe….’ That sort of thing.”
“I’ve never seen it,” Emmie complained.
“It doesn’t have much of a circulation. That’s not how the colonel makes his money.”
“How does he make his money?” I asked.
“Blackmail, of course.”
“So if the Astors had just paid, the piece would have been omitted,” Emmie said. “Isn’t that a little dangerous?”
“Oh, it’s never that blatant. Instead, the colonel’s representative calls Mr. Astor and asks if he’d like to subscribe to a special edition of some silly directory of the noted families. The morocco-bound volume being just five-hundred-and-seventy-five dollars. Mr. Astor knows the meaning behind the offer. He accepts, and the piece on his heir is redacted. Now the story reads that he was merely inebriated at a social event.”
“Sounds rather ingenious,” Emmie said.
“I pray for you, Harry.”
“What role did Easterly play?” I asked.
“I believe he was the representative. But this was eight or nine years ago, and I was just a child.”
“A mere ingénue,” Emmie added.
“So, Easterly has reformed.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” Elizabeth said. “More likely advanced to a safer position. My father was of the opinion that the colonel’s enterprise was decidedly precarious.”
“Yes, Easterly struck me as a man who knows how to look after himself,” I said. “What are you doing this afternoon, Emmie?”
“Elizabeth is showing me the sights,” Emmie answered. “And you?”
Before I could answer, there was a knock on the door. Lacy had arrived. I said good-bye to the ladies and went out with him. He led us down K Street to Julius Chappelle’s employment agency.
“Have you come up with something new on Chappelle?” I asked.
“No, but I like to keep these people sweating. Once they’ve sweated enough, they begin to talk.”
“I’m still not sure why you suspect the man. Has he ever been tied to a crime?”
“As I mentioned, his brother, one Samuel Chappelle, runs a policy operation. And there’s a rumor that Julius himself has taken up with a white woman.”
“Is that unlawful?”
“It’s something to hide, certainly.”
Chappelle’s agency was located in a neat brick townhouse. A young woman at a desk in the outer office stopped us to ask our business. Or rather, she tried to stop us. Lacy barged right past her and into an inner office. I didn’t like being party to a police raid, so I hung back in the other room. I could hear Lacy bellowing, then he stuck his head out and summoned me.
“Come along, Reese. Come along.”
Chappelle was a man at least in his late fifties. He was tall, over six feet, and had a stocky build. His hair was a salt-and-pepper grey and his face clean-shaven. He was dressed impeccably and had an air about him that made it hard to picture him sweating. Lacy introduced me and told him about my investigation. Chappelle offered me his hand.
“Anything I can do to help, Mr. Reese.”
“Mr. Reese will be working with me,” Lacy warned him. “And you can be sure we’ll get to the bottom of these thefts. Whoever is behind them will rue the day, you have my word on that.”
“And which day might that be, Sergeant?” Chappelle asked him.
“Which day? Why the very day he was born.”
“Well put, Sergeant. I believe the citizenry of our fair city rests easier knowing you are on the case.”
“Yes, well…, as well they should,” Lacy agreed. Then he turned to me. “See what you can get out of him.” With that, he left us.
“I apologize for the entrance,” I told Chappelle. “I was under the misapprehension we had an appointment.”
“That’s quite all right. The man’s a cretin, but he’s not as bad as some. Please, take a chair, Mr. Reese.”
We sat down and then I asked him what he could tell me about Richard Cole.
“I sent him to General Sachs in the spring of 1899. Before that, he worked for a congressman who, regrettably, lost re-election. He’s been working these types of jobs for ten, fifteen years. No complaints before now. And he seemed s
atisfied with how the general and his daughter treated him. Not richly compensated, but a little above the norm.”
“So not much reason to steal the family jewels?”
“None whatsoever. Until that fool arrested him, Richard Cole had a flawless record.”
“Have you spoken with him since the theft?”
“I have, briefly. He insists he saw and heard nothing.”
“Would you know where he is now?”
“His lawyer would. A man named William Patterson.”
“Sergeant Lacy mentioned the name. Where do I find him?”
He gave me the lawyer’s address, then added, “He’s a hard man to get hold of. I would suggest going to his office first thing in the morning, before court begins.”
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
“Do you suspect Cole?”
“No, not really. I’m operating on the assumption there’s one person, or group of people, behind several different thefts.”
“Yes, that’s Sergeant Lacy’s theory as well. He seems to think that person is me.”
“He mentioned that. He told me he’d determined the servants in two other cases had also been placed through your agency.”
“Yes, with Mr. Easterly and with Senator Merrill. He thinks that significant.”
“He also mentioned that you maintain contact with your charges after they’ve been placed. You seemed to confirm that with what you said about Cole’s attitude toward the Sachses.”
“It’s merely a professional interest. If General Sachs is satisfied, he will recommend the agency to a friend. It takes little time or effort to stay in touch.”
“Yes, I see.”
“Let me jot a note to Patterson, as an introduction.”
He did so and handed it to me. We shook hands again and I left him. It was almost three by then, which seemed like a good time to drop in on Mrs. Spinks’ salon. She had given me vague directions to an address above Dupont Circle, so I headed up Connecticut Avenue to find it.
Kalorama Shakedown (A Harry Reese Mystery) Page 4
