City of Schemes

by Victoria Thompson

  “And somebody left the captain one of these trusts?”

  “So it would appear, if he told you he has one, but as I said, I cannot discuss my client’s business with you.”

  “All right, all right. So who is this trustee who decides if the captain gets his money or not?”

  “You will have to ask Mr. Carstens that.”

  “Don’t you know?”

  “Of course I do but—”

  “—but you can’t discuss it with me,” Kellogg said, completely exasperated. “What I don’t understand is why it’s taking so long to get the money.”

  “I’m not sure what you consider a long time, but it has only been a few days since Mr. Carstens first consulted me. And a trust is not a bank account, with money just sitting there waiting to be spent. It is invested, and turning those investments into cash can take some time.”

  “How much time?”

  Gideon managed a nonchalant shrug. “I really don’t know. You’ll have to—”

  “—ask Mr. Carstens. I understand. You’re not going to answer any of my questions or tell me anything.”

  “I think I’ve answered as many of your questions as I can, Sergeant Kellogg. I only wish I could be more helpful.”

  “I wish you could, too,” Kellogg said, standing up with all the dignity he could muster. He stormed out without another word.

  Poor Smith. He’d be very upset if Kellogg didn’t at least allow him to show him to the door.

  * * *

  —

  Elizabeth took a cab up to Twenty-eighth Street to Dan the Dude’s Saloon. She didn’t even bother wearing a veil or trying to disguise herself. If Thornton was going to ruin her, what did it matter if she was seen going into a saloon? Well, going down the alley beside the saloon, at least, where a nondescript side door led to a room only a handful of people even knew existed.

  Elizabeth rapped out the correct series of knocks and was admitted after someone had given her a cursory glance through the sliding panel.

  “Contessa,” the doorkeeper greeted her happily, using the honorary title she had earned. “What brings you to our little den of iniquity?”

  “How are you doing, Spuds?” she asked the man whose face was as wrinkled as the last potato in the bushel.

  “I’m right as rain. I guess you’re here to see the Old Man.”

  “If he’s in.”

  “He is at the moment.”

  “Good. I’ll find him, then.”

  She set off down the narrow hallway that ended in a large room furnished with several tables. A few men had gathered around one to play cards, and they all looked up and greeted her enthusiastically. She had known every one of them since she was a young girl, and she returned the greetings.

  “I hear you’re getting married,” one said slyly.

  “Yeah, to a Mr. Bates.” They all laughed at that, even Elizabeth, because “Mr. Bates” was what con men called a mark.

  “I’m afraid so, but you’ll never con him, I promise you.”

  “Lizzie,” the Old Man said, having come out of his office to see what the laughter was about. He looked as elegant as ever with his silver mane of hair and his impeccably tailored suit. “What a nice surprise.”

  “It won’t be so nice when you find out why I’m here.”

  The Old Man frowned, but he never revealed his true feelings, so he didn’t appear to be too worried as he escorted her into his utilitarian office and closed the door. When she was seated in the wooden chair beside his desk, he said, “Now tell me what has you all worried.”

  “Oscar Thornton saw my engagement announcement, and he showed up at Gideon’s office.”

  He frowned again, his blue eyes narrowing. “I’m going to assume he wants his money.”

  “Yes, and if he doesn’t get it, he’s going to tell the newspapers that Gideon is marrying a con artist.”

  “That’s troublesome,” he said with characteristic understatement.

  “That’s blackmail, but I spent most of last night thinking about this, and I realized that I can simply blackmail him right back.”

  “And how can you do that?”

  Elizabeth paused a moment for effect, certain he was going to be impressed by her reasoning. “By threatening to tell the newspapers how he tried to cheat the government during the war.”

  But the Old Man leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “That will never work, Lizzie, and it will only come back on you.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When Gideon arrived home that evening, he was delighted to find Elizabeth in the parlor with his mother. At least he was delighted until he realized Elizabeth had been crying.

  She smiled when she saw him and hurried over to greet him, but he could see her eyes were still wet and a little red. They were also very sad.

  “What is it? Is it Thornton? Has he—”

  “No, nothing like that,” she hastily assured him. “I just . . . I was just asking your mother’s advice about something and . . .”

  “And my advice was a bit upsetting, I’m afraid,” his mother said apologetically.

  “Advice about what? And why would it be upsetting?”

  “Come in and sit down and we’ll tell you, dear,” his mother said.

  Elizabeth took his hand, led him to the sofa nearest the fire and sat down beside him. His mother sat in a chair nearby, her sewing forgotten in her lap.

  “Now tell me what this is all about,” he said.

  “I went to see the Old Man today,” Elizabeth said.

  Gideon tried not to let his voice reflect his dismay over this necessity. “I hope he was helpful.”

  “He was. You see, I’ve been thinking about how we can handle Thornton. We can’t give him any money, of course, because then he’ll just keep wanting more and more.”

  “And you certainly aren’t going to start running cons on other people in order to raise that money,” Gideon said, which was what he’d feared Mr. Miles would suggest.

  “Of course not,” she agreed, to his relief. “But I thought that if turnabout is fair play, then why shouldn’t we threaten to ruin Thornton’s reputation in return? We know an awful lot about him that would create quite a scandal.”

  Blackmailing a blackmailer didn’t sound like a very promising strategy, but before he could point this out, his mother said, “Elizabeth suggested this idea to her father, but he did not think it would work, so she came to me. She thought perhaps Mr. Miles simply didn’t understand how people in society think and how the slightest hint of scandal can ruin a person’s reputation.”

  Which was true enough, but . . . “Only if you’re a female,” he said.

  “Which is so unfair!” Elizabeth said, color darkening her cheeks. “The things we know about Thornton should ruin him!”

  “You’re right, my darling,” Gideon said, taking her hand in both of his. “Or at least you should be. He tried to sell defective rifles to the army.”

  “And he killed his wife,” Elizabeth reminded him.

  “For which he should be imprisoned,” his mother said. Thornton’s wife had been his mother’s beloved cousin. “Unfortunately, we have no proof of it.”

  “Except that he confessed it to me,” Elizabeth said bitterly.

  “Which he would deny, if you accused him,” Gideon said.

  “Even the rifles wouldn’t cause that much of a scandal,” his mother said. “Far too many men made fortunes selling shoddy equipment to the government during the war.”

  “And a lot of men would even admire his initiative,” Gideon said.

  “So you’re saying that society would overlook all of Thornton’s sins,” Elizabeth said angrily.

  “Sadly, yes,” Gideon said.

  She sighed. “But not mine.”

  “It isn’t fair, I know,” his mothe
r said. “But women are held to a much higher standard. The slightest whiff of scandal and—”

  “And they are ruined.” She fumed for a moment. “It’s too bad Gideon isn’t a middle-aged millionaire. Then he could marry anyone he liked and society would end up accepting her.”

  “I suppose middle-aged millionaires do occasionally marry unsuitable young ladies,” his mother said, “but you’re wrong if you think they are accepted by society.”

  “They aren’t?” Elizabeth asked in surprise.

  His mother shook her head. “They are invited places and are seen everywhere with their wealthy husbands, but society women have a thousand ways to make those poor girls feel uncomfortable and unwelcome. You’re too young to remember, but when William Vanderbilt married Alva, no one wanted to know her at all. She was from Alabama, of all places. Mrs. Astor completely refused to acknowledge her.”

  “Mrs. Astor?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Caroline Astor, the woman who invented the Four Hundred,” Gideon explained.

  “He means she was the one who came up with the idea that there were only four hundred people in New York society who were worth knowing and therefore important enough to invite to her parties,” his mother added.

  Elizabeth was clearly astonished. “Why was she influential enough to do something like that?”

  “Because of her social position. She was the leading hostess in New York at the time,” his mother said.

  “And what happened to this Alva after Mrs. Astor snubbed her?”

  His mother smiled. She loved telling these old stories. “Alva Vanderbilt held the biggest masquerade ball New York had ever seen. They say she invited a thousand people.”

  “That’s a lot more than four hundred,” Elizabeth pointed out.

  “She wasn’t as strict as Mrs. Astor,” Gideon said.

  “No, she wasn’t,” his mother agreed. “Everyone who was anyone was invited except Caroline Astor’s daughter, Carrie.”

  “But Mrs. Astor wouldn’t care, would she? Not if she was so important,” Elizabeth asked.

  “Maybe not, but Carrie cared very much. All her friends were going, after all, and she already had a costume. When asked why Carrie was not invited, Alva Vanderbilt said she couldn’t possibly invite Carrie because she didn’t know her mother. You see, Caroline Astor had never called on Alva socially. This gave Alva the perfect excuse not to invite Carrie. So to save her daughter the pain of missing the party, Mrs. Astor had to call on Alva. Alva then invited Caroline and Carrie both to the party. They attended, thereby granting Alva the ultimate social acceptance.”

  “So I guess I’ll have to throw a party for a thousand people if I want people to forget I’m a con artist,” Elizabeth said with a sigh.

  “You’d also have to be married to a millionaire who can afford a party like that,” Gideon said.

  “Since neither of those things is going to happen,” his mother said sternly, “you need to make sure no one finds out you’re a . . . You’re anything other than what you appear to be.”

  “That Mrs. Vanderbilt was a clever woman, though,” Elizabeth said. “Whatever happened to her?”

  His mother smiled again, because this part of the story was even better. “She eventually divorced William Vanderbilt and married Oliver Belmont. She’s our own Mrs. Belmont.”

  “The lady who gives all that money to support woman suffrage?” Elizabeth asked in awe.

  “The very same.”

  Elizabeth sat back on the sofa and got a dreamy look on her face. Gideon had seen that look before, and it terrified him. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking Alva Belmont is a pretty good con artist.”

  Gideon frowned, but his mother chuckled appreciatively.

  Elizabeth didn’t even notice. “I’m also thinking that there’s a way around this business with Thornton. We just haven’t thought of it yet.”

  “Elizabeth, dear,” his mother said in her gentlest voice, “you do have to be careful.”

  Elizabeth’s beautiful blue eyes sparked at the reminder. “Oh, I understand. The slightest breath of scandal will ruin me. Gideon will still marry me, because he’s too honorable to desert me, but his friends will snub him and he’ll lose clients and our lives will be miserable.”

  “Elizabeth,” Gideon tried, but to his horror he couldn’t think of a single comforting thing to say because she was absolutely right. Certainly, he would never desert her, no matter what happened. He loved her too much. But he couldn’t bear the thought of her being so unhappy. “None of that would matter to me, darling.”

  She squeezed the hand still holding hers. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything foolish. I may not understand the world you live in, but I’m not going to break the rules if I can help it, because I want to live in it with you.”

  “And Elizabeth is probably right,” his mother said with forced enthusiasm. “There must be a way to beat Oscar Thornton. We just haven’t thought of it yet.”

  * * *

  —

  Gideon was finding it difficult to concentrate on his work the next morning. He’d spent most of the previous night trying to think of a way to deal with Thornton’s extortion demands and had come to the conclusion that he and Elizabeth would need to move to Europe and just hope Thornton didn’t find them there. The fact that he had no desire to move to Europe and no reason to think Elizabeth did, either, told him this was a ridiculous solution to their problem, but so far it was all he could come up with.

  A rap on the door distracted him, and grateful for the interruption, he looked up as Smith stepped into his office.

  “Mr. Miles is here,” he said, not bothering to hide his disapproval. Obviously, Mr. Miles did not have an appointment.

  “Show him in.” Gideon rose to greet Elizabeth’s father, not sure whether he should feel dread or anticipation at this visit. Perhaps he should feel both.

  “Gideon, thank you for seeing me on such short notice,” Mr. Miles said for Smith’s benefit.

  Gideon came around his desk to shake the hand Mr. Miles offered. “You know you’re always welcome, sir. Thank you, Smith.”

  Smith managed one more disapproving frown before slipping quietly from the room.

  “I hate to upset your man like that,” Mr. Miles said with a small smile, “but this really couldn’t wait.”

  Gideon invited him to sit down in one of the client chairs while he returned to his own, safely behind his large and imposing desk. His future father-in-law would not be here with good news. “I guess this is about Thornton.”

  “Of course it is. I can’t believe he’s making a nuisance of himself again.”

  “I can’t believe it, either, but here we are.”

  “Lizzie came to see me yesterday.”

  “I know. She told me. She went to see my mother after she left you. She thought you were wrong about blackmailing Thornton and wanted my mother to confirm it.”

  “I hope Mrs. Bates told her I was right.”

  Gideon had to smile at his worried frown. Mr. Miles was not ordinarily overly concerned about his children. “She did. She told Elizabeth in no uncertain terms that she can’t possibly ruin Thornton’s reputation no matter what she reveals about him.”

  “Good, then perhaps we can persuade Lizzie to leave this to me.”

  That was the part Gideon had been both hoping for and dreading. “To you?”

  “Yes. We should have made certain Thornton couldn’t come back, so this time we need to take care of him once and for all.”

  “Once and for all?” Gideon echoed in alarm. “You’re not going to kill him, are you?”

  Mr. Miles stared at him in amazement. “What on earth gave you that idea? Murder is a very messy crime and draws far too much of the wrong kind of attention.”

  “Then how can you be sure Thornton
won’t just come back again and again?”

  “By making sure he can’t ever show his face in New York City, and if he does, he will be laughed out of town.”

  “Can you do that?”

  “I’m going to try.”

  “But how—?” Gideon began but caught himself. “No, don’t tell me.”

  “I wasn’t going to.”

  Gideon wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or not.

  “Just be sure you don’t forbid Lizzie from participating,” Mr. Miles said.

  Now Gideon was really confused. “Are you going to use her somehow?”

  “No, but if you forbid her from it, she’ll insist on helping. We can’t have that. It’s too dangerous.”

  “Oh yes, I see.”

  “I’m glad. Now Jake tells me somebody is trying to run the Spanish Prisoner on one of your friends.”

  Gideon blinked at the abrupt change of subject but he said, “That’s what Elizabeth thinks.”

  “She’s probably right. Your friend is lucky that you recognized it.”

  “I didn’t recognize it. I’ve never heard of the Spanish Prisoner before.”

  “But you knew something was up and asked Lizzie to help.”

  “Then I’m the lucky one, because I had Elizabeth to consult.”

  “I’m glad you realize that. You fascinate me, Gideon. I’ve never known a man like you before.”

  Once again, Gideon didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. “I don’t think I’m that unusual.”

  “Oh, but you are. Grifters have a saying, ‘You can’t cheat an honest man.’”

  “I’m sure that’s true.”

  “It is, but you see, it’s also a joke, because no men are truly honest.”

  “But that isn’t true,” Gideon said, sure he was right.

  Mr. Miles smiled sadly. “No, I suppose there are a few. I seldom meet them, though. Lizzie was lucky to find you. No one will ever take advantage of her as long as she has you to protect her.”