An Agent for Emily

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An Agent for Emily Page 11

by Amelia C. Adams


  “Doing my best.” Todd gave another twist of the wire and the latch gave just in time for them to duck inside. The footsteps Emily had heard scurried past and then disappeared, and she took a deep breath.

  “I don’t know how you live this sort of lifestyle on a regular basis,” she said. “I’m quite sure my heart has nearly given out a dozen times.”

  “You get used to it.” He gave her a smile. “Now, let’s get to work on these cabinets.”

  It was even more nerve-racking to search during the day than it had been at night—anyone could come wandering past and wonder what they were doing. Of course, that person would have to unlock the door because Todd had twisted the bolt when they entered, but still, the housekeeper and the butler both surely had access, and Emily had no idea how they’d explain their presence if they were caught.

  Emily finished the cabinet drawer she was working on and glanced up, wondering where she should look next. There was a closet door between the two sets of cabinets, and she walked over to see if it was locked. The door opened easily in her hand, and a shaft of light fell inside.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed, stumbling backwards.

  “What’s the matter?” Todd came to her side and caught her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

  She pointed mutely at the closet, and Todd followed her finger to the man crouched on the closet floor, his tie askew and his jacket dirty.

  “Let me guess,” Todd said, his tone wry. “Are you Mr. Astor?”

  The man slowly nodded, then came to his feet. “I am. And I would ask what you’re doing in my private office, but I don’t have the right to my privacy anymore. I believe I lost that a long time ago.”

  Todd held out his arm and motioned for Mr. Astor to take a seat. “Suppose you begin by telling us what’s going on.”

  Mr. Astor nodded, pulling in a long, jagged breath. “I . . . hardly know where to begin.”

  Emily sat down across from him. “Just start where you’re able.”

  He looked at her blankly. “Miss Gray, I presume? I’ve caught sight of you on occasion before . . . Why are you searching my office? And who’s this man?”

  “I’m with the Pinkerton Detective Agency, and Miss Gray is my partner. We’ll explain more later, but for now, I believe you’re the one who owes us an explanation,” Todd replied.

  “Quite right.” Mr. Astor pulled his tie off altogether and placed it on his desk. “I suppose it really began around three years ago. My business was failing, and I needed to do something to enliven it. I took a small loan from a friend, and as soon as I could, I paid it back. The advertising I did with that loan built my company up by twelve percent, so I decided to continue taking loans and paying them back as the business grew. That worked out well until about eighteen months ago, when nothing I did seemed to increase the business enough to pay back what I’d borrowed. My creditors were becoming anxious because I’d promised them a return, and it seemed that I would be a complete and miserable failure. I . . . I borrowed some money from Jeremy Tobler’s business to pay off the loans, but it wasn’t enough, and then suddenly, everyone was after me. The pressure was immense, and I couldn’t look Tobler in the eye. He hadn’t figured anything out yet, but I knew, and it was like a cancer eating at the back of my brain.”

  Astor passed a hand down his face. “Then I met the Percevals. I sensed immediately that he could be the answer to my problem—I sought him out on a professional level, and we soon became friends. His reputation for being an investor proved to be correct, and I spoke to him about my difficulties. He knew I was in debt, and also that I had stolen money from Tobler. He agreed that it was a terrible position to be in, and he told me that he’d give me a loan for the full amount I owed, but he wouldn’t charge interest because of our friendship. I’d be able to pay him back and restore my dignity.

  “I invited everyone I owed to come to the house this weekend. I was going to make a confession, tell them all the extent to which I had stooped, and then pay them back. Even Tobler’s ten thousand. Then I was going to plead with him to forgive me, but I was willing to accept my punishment if he chose to press charges.”

  Emily raised an eyebrow. “You were going to turn yourself in? That seems rather . . . well, risky. What if Jeremy chose not to forgive you? Are you saying that you’d just volunteer to go to jail?”

  “Well, not volunteer, exactly, but if that’s the punishment due me, I was willing to endure it. The guilt I’ve suffered has been worse than any jail cell could be. And not only that, but my poor wife . . . I told her everything last week, every last thing, and she was mortified. She was so glad that I had a way out, but she didn’t even look at me for two days. How could I live with myself, knowing I’d caused that good woman so much grief? No, I had to make restitution. It was the only way.”

  “So, you invited everyone here so you could make a public apology,” Todd said. “You owe money to each guest.”

  “That’s right. Even my sister. She knew of my money troubles last year and tried to help me, but I wasn’t wise. No, I’ve been so, so foolish.” He dropped his head into his hands. “I need to make a clean breast of it. I can’t continue this way.”

  Emily glanced at Todd. She was certain they both felt at least a bit of compassion for the man, but there was still so much to the story, and they needed to hear it all. “So, Mr. Perceval was going to give you a loan,” she prodded. “How was this loan going to be different from the others? How could he be sure that you’d really pay him back?”

  “He wasn’t going to charge interest, but he would hold the house as collateral,” Mr. Astor explained. “And I couldn’t lose my home, so that would be the perfect inducement for me to live up to my end of the bargain.”

  “What happened yesterday?” Todd asked.

  “Yesterday.” Mr. Astor shuddered. “The Percevals were going to come out yesterday and bring the money I needed to pay everyone back. But then Maurice sent me a telegram and let me know they were running late. I knew right away that something was horribly wrong. He was bringing me cash, but he was obtaining it from a third party because no one simply has that kind of money at their disposal, and if that transaction hadn’t gone through, well, I was in true trouble. If I couldn’t pay Tobler back, I’d have no right to ask forgiveness, and he could have me thrown in jail as soon as he figured it out. He . . . he can be a hard man. A difficult man. I never should have stolen the money, knowing what he’s capable of. It was a desperate move.”

  Jeremy was a hard man? What did Mr. Astor mean by that? Emily had never seen that side of him.

  “Tobler has figured it out,” Todd told him. “He called in the Pinkertons to investigate you for the embezzlement.”

  Mr. Astor’s face went even paler. “So you see why I had to have that money. I had to protect myself. I went out to the Percevals’ to see if there was anything I could do to speed things along, and he told me that he needed to speak with his associate. He sent a message, and they didn’t reply. So he started sending notes around to the different clubs and so forth, trying to find his friend. Around this time, he sent his wife on ahead—she was fretting quite a bit, and he thought she’d rest easier out here. She doesn’t like being late for things.”

  “Did she know anything about this?” Emily asked.

  “No. Only my wife did.”

  Emily nodded, and Mr. Astor went on. “We met up with this friend, he gave Maurice the cash, and Maurice gave it to me. Then we caught the next train here. I couldn’t wait to get home and speak to everyone and see what my fate was to be—I was ready to face it. But then Maurice stepped out onto the platform to smoke his cigar, and he never came back in.”

  “Are you saying that was the last time you ever saw him?” Todd asked.

  “That’s right. He said he’d be back in a few minutes, but he wasn’t. When the train stopped, I searched every single car for him, but he was nowhere.”

  “But the conductor said you and Maurice disappea
red at the same time,” Emily told him.

  Mr. Astor shook his head. “I didn’t see the conductor when I left the train because I’d been searching the cars and I got off at the very end.”

  “And where have you been ever since?” Emily asked. It had been easier to accept his story up to this point. Now it seemed to be making less and less sense.

  “I thought maybe he’d gotten off without my seeing him, so I waited on the platform of the station for a little while. All of a sudden, the police showed up, and I heard that a body had been found and that it was Maurice. I heard them talking about wanting to find me, and it sounded for all the world like they thought I killed him. I had a great deal of money in my coat pocket—money I couldn’t explain without getting into even more trouble—and I decided I needed to hightail it for home. I could give the money to Mrs. Perceval, put an end to this nightmare, and pray that everything would come out all right in the end.”

  “You were just going to give her back the money? Mr. Astor, I have to say, I’m having a hard time believing you,” Emily told him. “You’re painting yourself as being quite the repentant sinner—what proof do you have of any of this? Why shouldn’t we call the police right now and tell them the murderer has come home?”

  “I don’t have any evidence,” Mr. Astor said. “None whatsoever. If you called the police, I’m sure they’d be more than happy to lock me up forever, and there would be nothing I could do about it. But Mrs. Perceval knows I’m telling the truth about the loan, so I’m cleared in that regard. As to the murder . . . you’re sure it’s murder? He didn’t just fall off the train?”

  “He was shot,” Todd said.

  “He was shot? Well, that might be one thing in my favor. I don’t own a gun,” Mr. Astor said. “I’m quite frankly scared of them. Anyone who knows me knows that’s true.”

  “It might be true, but it’s not enough to clear you.” Todd stood up. “Mr. Astor, I’m taking you into my custody until such a time as the police arrive. You’ll have every opportunity to tell them your story, and I’ll see to it that they question Mrs. Perceval to verify your claim about the loan. You understand that I can’t just let you walk around a free man—not when a murder has been committed.”

  “I understand,” Mr. Astor replied. “I don’t like it, but I understand.”

  Todd asked Emily to notify the police, and she did so right away, jotting a note and sending it off with the kitchen boy. Things were resolving so very differently than she’d expected. Granted, she hadn’t really known what to expect, but finding the suspect in his own office closet seemed like a disappointment. Wouldn’t there be a shoot-out or a hostage situation or some other exciting conclusion? Instead, he sat there waiting for the police to arrive, not necessarily calm but not fighting, either.

  When the police arrived, they asked Todd and Emily to leave the room, promising to share any information that had to do with the embezzlement. Todd and Emily climbed the stairs to the room Todd was sharing with Jeremy, ready to tell their client what was going on.

  His room, however, was empty.

  Chapter Eleven

  “He was right here,” Todd said, pointing to the bed. “Where did he go?”

  Emily’s eyes darted around the room. She’d thought she’d seen his shoes under the chair the night before, but those were gone. “He left.”

  “He left? Why? Where?”

  She sat down on the chair, her head starting to hurt. “I don’t know, but his shoes are gone.”

  “He wasn’t well enough to leave. I don’t understand.” Todd stood in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips. “Do you think he caught wind that Astor was here and went downstairs to confront him?”

  “How would he have done that without us seeing him? We took the main staircase, and unless there’s a hidden one, that’s the only way to get downstairs and to the other wing of the house.” Emily turned at the sudden sound of a thump behind her. “What was that?”

  Todd crossed the room slowly, his hand outstretched, and then he grasped the heavy window curtain and pulled it back. The nurse lay on the floor under the window, bound and gagged with neckties, and she looked up at them with wide eyes. Todd crouched down next to her and loosened the gag. “Who did this to you?” he asked.

  “Mr. Tobler,” she gasped. “Please, my hands and feet.”

  “Mr. Tobler?” Emily repeated while Todd untied the woman. “Mr. Tobler tied you up?”

  She nodded. “When I came in this morning, he overpowered me and tied me up. I don’t know where he’s gone.”

  Emily looked at Todd, trying to piece everything together. What was going on? Why would Jeremy have done that? It was so impossible, so ridiculous . . .

  “Did he set us up?” she asked. “Was this some kind of plan?”

  Todd’s lips were pressed together in a firm line. “I’ll be back,” he said. “I need to contact the Pinkerton office, and it’ll be much faster if I go myself rather than sending a note.”

  She nodded. She didn’t want to be left alone, wondering what was going on, but he was right, and she shouldn’t slow him down.

  He left the room quickly, and she turned back to the nurse. “Do you think you can stand? Are you all right?”

  “I think I can.” The woman allowed Emily to take her by the hands, and working together, they got her off the floor and into the chair.

  “How long were you tied up like that?” Emily asked.

  “Since around seven,” the nurse replied.

  That had been roughly two hours. What a miserable two hours that must have been.

  “I’ll ring for tea, but I think we should sit tight here and wait for Todd to come back,” Emily said.

  “What was that he said about the Pinkerton office?”

  Emily hesitated. Was there any harm in telling the woman the truth? “He’s an agent,” she replied at last. “But you mustn’t tell anyone, all right? I’m not sure this case is over, and we don’t want to warn anyone off.”

  The nurse nodded. “I won’t tell a soul. Especially not after being tied up—I can see that you’re doing something important.”

  The tea was brought, and Emily thanked the maid who carried it up. Then she closed the bedroom door and put a chair in front of it just to be sure. “Now we’ll sit here and drink our tea and stay nice and cozy,” she replied, hoping her tone of voice was calm enough to sooth the rattled nurse.

  ***

  Agent Gordon’s face became grimmer as Todd explained what had happened. He didn’t waste any time sending out a note for all available agents to begin combing the train station, the livery stables, and every other mode of transportation he could think of. He also sent a couple of agents out to the Astor house in case Jeremy was hiding out somewhere there.

  “I can’t believe he duped us like this,” Todd said, pacing the floor. “How . . . I just can’t even fathom it.”

  “You’re not the first person to get tricked in this world, and I’m sure you’re not the last,” Miss Chapman said. “Archie’s sending out men, and we’ll get him found.”

  “All the way here, I kept hoping there was a different explanation, but no innocent man would have a reason to tie up his nurse before leaving his room. Jeremy’s up to something, and that . . . Well, to be honest, it makes me feel like a fool. I considered him more than a client—I was beginning to consider him a friend.”

  “I’m sorry,” Miss Chapman replied. “I truly am. Being betrayed is always painful.” She glanced out the window. “It looks like the men are heading out now. Do you want to go with them, or would you like some coffee or tea first?”

  “I’ll go with them. Thank you, Miss Chapman.”

  Todd elected to go with the group that would be covering the train station. He didn’t know that Jeremy would be trying to leave town and that he’d use the train to do it, but he wanted to talk to the conductor and the stationmaster about the events of the previous day. The train wasn’t in yet so he couldn’t speak to the conduct
or, but he was able to speak with the stationmaster.

  “Sure, someone could get off the train on the other end and not be seen as easily,” the man replied. “As long as he’s paid his ticket, the conductor doesn’t need to see him again.”

  All right, that part of Astor’s story rang true. But who had killed Maurice?

  “Did you see anyone lurking around the station looking suspicious? A stranger?”

  “Sir, I see strangers all day, every day. I don’t pay them any particular mind because it’s my job to help them move on to where they’re going, not to be the welcoming committee here.”

  “I understand that. I’m sorry for presuming.”

  Todd spoke to everyone he could think of, but no one had any answers for him. The person he really needed to see was the conductor, but when the train pulled in at long last, it was a different conductor altogether, and he was told that the man he sought wouldn’t be back that way for another five hours.

  A lot could happen in five hours.

  The other agents were satisfied that Jeremy wasn’t anywhere near the train station, so they worked their way back to the house, asking questions as they went. It didn’t appear that Jeremy had rented any horses, and no one had seen a man of his description walking along the road.

  “It’s like he disappeared,” one of the agents said.

  “Or like he never left the estate,” said another.

  He never left the estate . . . “Come on,” Todd called out. “We have a huge piece of land to explore.”

  ***

  Emily had no idea how long a manhunt usually lasted, but she and the nurse were feeling a bit stir-crazy after a couple of hours. Emily supposed there was no real harm in walking around the house, but still, keeping the nurse tucked away felt like the responsible thing to do, and so that’s what she did.

  “I tell you what,” she said at last. “I slept horribly last night, and you look rather tuckered out too. What if we took a nap? I can’t think of a better way to while away some time.”

  “Agreed,” the nurse replied. She took the bed, even though she volunteered to take the cot, but Emily had already taken the cot and was making herself comfortable. She was so tired, she didn’t think anything would prevent her from drifting off to sleep.

 

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