by Liz Bradbury
“Couldn’t have been Lois. She has coffee with Shelly at Brews on the Mews every morning, rather than chasing around flea markets,” I explained.
“I missed that point,” sighed Kathryn.
“But when the going got rough, you saved my life at the library archives. Kathryn, how did you know where Piper was going?”
“Well, Nora uses one of the office phones. I tracked the GPS on it. It showed Nora’s phone was going west. In the 1800s when the tunnels were built, there was nothing out there but the college. Everyone at the college knows that the library archives have underground floors. I headed there. On my way, I saw Samson Henshaw. He insisted I tell him what was happening. And I felt I needed some back-up. It was his idea to use a ketchup pack for the blood. He was brave.”
“It was risky,” I said.
“Maggie, I don’t see how Suzanne found Victoria’s studio so quickly. There’s no studio information in Victoria’s archive box. Nothing about where the money was hidden or a passage under Fen House either,” said Kathryn ignoring my concern.
“Now... There’s nothing in there now. I think there were some papers there about the studio and money that Suzanne found and told Piper about. They were probably fairly cryptic, so that the average researcher wouldn’t have understood their implication, but to Suzanne they were clear. There could have been a bill for the cost of having the secret passage built and receipts for having supplies delivered to the Majestic. Suzanne could have known that Victoria owned the Majestic if she’d seen the public posting of Victoria’s will. I’m guessing Victoria paid for the passage herself, but I think Merganser was the one who set up the crypt passage, to run all sorts of black market items through.
“After Piper killed Suzanne she had plenty of time to remove those papers from the library archives, smuggle them out in a pocket or something and delete all the references to Victoria Snow from the computer files when a librarian was away from the terminal. In that way no one else could ever find Victoria’s information again.”
“Except Isabella Santiago!” said Amanda brightly, then shook her head at my questioning glance.
We were eating apple pie. Jessie was passing around the coffee pot. The meal had taken most of the day. It was getting dark out. I heard Wagner and Griswold merfing and owing on the stairs, hesitating because that giant dog was in their house again.
“Kathryn has uncovered something else in the journals,” I said.
“Victoria gave money to various charities and traveled quite a bit, especially to South America. Though she was reclusive in Fenchester, she was selling in a number of galleries, so the income from her work easily paid for all her expenses. Everyone knew she was getting the twenty dollars a day commission fee from Merganser Hunterdon, but there was only about thirty thousand dollars in her bank account when she died. Even at the time, people speculated where the rest of the money was,” said Kathryn.
“She wanted it to all go to Irwin. That’s what her will says. But if you ask me, I think she wanted to have Merganser’s silver in one place before she finally gave it away,” I said.
Kathryn nodded. “The interesting thing, though, is no one has really wondered why she was paid so much. Victoria made Merganser pay her for the rest of their lives and they both lived into their nineties. It was as though each of them was trying to outlive the other. It turns out the key is the line Victoria carved into the wall of the crypt: Man Must Chase The Demon Messenger Of Grief With Unbound Charity.
“What do you think it means, dear?” Judith asked Kathryn.
“I think Victoria was talking about Merganser chasing the demon, but the demon of grief was Victoria herself,” said Kathryn simply.
“I just don’t understand. Why would that misogynist, crooked, thieving, weasel Merganser consent to give Victoria so much money?” said Farrel. “He must have hated her!”
“He gave her the money because General Merganser Hunterdon murdered Evangeline Fen, and Victoria could prove it.”
Everyone gasped.
“He cheated all those people out of their money, and he was a murderer, too?” asked Sara.
“I’m afraid so,” said Kathryn. “Victoria had evidence that proves Merganser Hunterdon hired a trio of... well, ruffians is too gentle... they were thugs, to head off Evangeline’s horse and make sure she had a fatal accident that broke her neck.”
“Oh no,” said Jessie. “It’s so sad. I’m not sure I want to hear this part.”
I thought about my dream. The frightening riderless horse chasing Evangeline. It hadn’t needed Merganser to ride it, because he’d hired someone else as the hit man.
“Jessie, Victoria didn’t write much about the accident. She didn’t even write about the funeral. I think she was devastated. But she finally got a grip on herself and found a renewed purpose. Shall I read some? ”
Everyone nodded. So Kathryn opened her bag, put on her white cotton gloves, and carefully drew out Victoria Snow’s second journal.
“This was written about a year after Evangeline died,” Kathryn began.
Date, July 4th, 1879
Three years after the nation’s centennial, and I find myself alone and independent. Demons have haunted my dreams and crushed my spirit. I have felt little since the passing of my beloved Angel.
I had seriously considered taking my own meaningless life, but now my beloved brother Franklin, who has been my only rock, has brought me the evidence of the horrible deed committed by the devil incarnate, Merganser Hunterdon. Perhaps anyone else would have kept the truth about my beloved’s death from me, yet Franklin has understood that my sense of justice could overcome my grief.
Yet I drew out a volume of Anne’s poems and found:
I dreamed an angel, Angel twice, through death,
Wrought us another “Night.” A stately dream,
Where reconciling Infinites did seem
To fold round life’s perplexities, and wreath
Its ancient glooms with stars: — a marble breath
From Art’s serene, fresh, everlasting morn,
Where the dull worm of earthly pain is born
To winged life thenceforth, and busieth
With golden messages its mortal hours.
O the Divine, earth would have wronged and slain!
Its pangs are rays above her falling towers
Of lovelier truth — breaths of a sweet disdain
Shedding strange nothingness on meaner pain,
Drops of the bleeding god that turn to flowers.
And so this very afternoon I visited our rock pool and there I experienced an epiphany accompanied by a ray of blinding light that struck the deepest regions of my soul. I fully believe it was sent to me by my Angel.
My two glorious years with my beautiful Evangeline were filled with passion and the brilliant light of the most generous and giving woman in the universe. She had humor and intelligence unparalleled. She was kindness personified. Though I fancy myself a competent artist, my contribution to society pales to a puny flicker in comparison to what Evangeline was able to do in just a mere twenty-four months.
My dear brother has brought me the sworn statements and indeed the witnesses who would bring swift justice upon this evil man. Yet, I will not seek the arm of the law. It is too lenient, too gentle.
Today I commit my life to honoring Evangeline and punishing the minion of Satan who took her away from this world.
My dear brother has compelled this evil murderer to sign a complete confession and consent to act as an instrument for good and generosity. Some would say I was committing acts of blackmail, and perhaps it is so. But those leaders of the State still seek to compel me, and indeed the memory of Evangeline, to allow Hunterdon to act as a financial figurehead to ensure the stability of the economy. And they too do so with the action of threat and coercion based on the evidence of his evil deeds.
I will see to it that every cent of this evil man’s money goes toward the civic projects Evangeline envisioned. I will
allow him liberty as long as he suffers everyday. Especially as I shall act as the demon messenger of grief, pricking his horrible soul with a pikestaff dipped in brimstone as punishment for his most evil deed. Every plan he makes for his own wealth and fame I shall foil, every misstep he takes, I will cause him to stumble and fall. I myself cannot emulate the sweetness and light, and indeed forgiveness of my beautiful Evangeline. Yes, I am the antithesis. I shall act as an earthly devil and shall dedicate myself to creating the hellfire in which this man must burn.
Perhaps I shall create a statue of him with his back to me, to symbolize his inability to know how I contrive to torment him.
And I shall be sure that I take good care of my safety, for I will live a long life fueled by my mission. I shall celebrate everything about my Angel in my work, and I shall use the devil’s wealth never for my personal benefit, but to do good in the world. The contract he signed yesterday shall require he pay me twenty dollars in silver a day. He will bring them to me each evening in supplicatory penance, a daily reminder of his sins, and of the one who holds his reins. Further, he must spend every discretionary cent beyond, to make this City a better place.
My hollow life now has new meaning. And though I take on the pitchfork of the devil, I am sure my Evangeline will understand, and will surely delight in the good works I shall bring to fruition. And while I shall not find joy ever again, the action of my pitchfork shall bring me satisfaction.
“Well, this is quite a turn of events. Victoria Snow fueled by vengeance and Merganser Hunterdon compelled by nothing more than fear. No doubt it was the tip of Victoria’s pikestaff that caused him to drop out of the Senate race after he had won the primary,” said Amanda. “Is there anything that can confirm Victoria’s condemnation of Merganser?”
“Victoria notated a legal document that should still be on file. The Philadelphia law firm founded by her brother is still in existence. All I have to do is request to see the document,” said Kathryn.
Epilog
Piper Staplehurst was convicted. No one had to testify because she took a plea. For someone so calculating, Piper had made many foolish mistakes. She’d left a huge amount of incriminating evidence around her apartment. Everything from the big gun that had killed Frankie to the sucket fork were in plain sight in her kitchen. She even had a bag of silver dollars and one of Victoria’s sculptures under her bed. And though the fingerprints on the gun that shot Gabe were too smudged to incriminate anyone, the powder blowback from the shot was on Piper’s hands. She was sentenced to life plus 200 years.
Suzanne’s sister claimed her body for a funeral in Illinois. Jessie and Farrel hosted a local memorial for her in their home that ran all day. Hundreds of people attended.
Gabe’s memorial was more complicated. He’d been blackmailed into crime, he hadn’t killed anyone, and he had no family to claim his body. Yet Gabe had covered up Suzanne’s disappearance at least partly from greed. Perhaps if he’d spoken up, Frankie and Gabriel himself wouldn’t have been murdered. Ultimately, it was Jessie who took charge of Gabe. She and Farrel paid for his cremation and spread his ashes in the Washington Mews Cemetery.
“It’s what Suzanne would have wanted,” Jessie explained.
Red Kibbey disappeared after getting probation for conversion of property. He left Frankie’s remains to the city to deal with. Frankie’s older and more dangerous partners in crime, Cue and Willie, went to prison for home invasion and robbery, for five years. They got out in eight months.
The millions of dollars of Victoria’s money rightfully went to the Irwin College Fen Scholarship Fund as Victoria had directed. The more than one hundred Snow sculptures in her studio went to the college as well. The college created a spectacular traveling exhibition of her newly found work. Kathryn wrote the catalogue notes for it. The large work of Evangeline emerging from the stone traveled with the exhibition and then was installed as the focal point in the grand foyer of the fine arts building. It further established Victoria Willomere Snow as one of America’s greatest 19th century sculptors.
Irwin College was so happy I’d found the sixteen million dollars and the Snow sculptures they wanted to give me the standard finder’s fee. I suggested quite a bit less if they let Kathryn and Farrel keep the Snow sculptures they’d purchased from Frankie. The college agreed as long as those works could be part of the traveling exhibition for a year. The reduced finder’s fee still paid off my entire home improvement loan.
Kathryn located Merganser Hunterdon’s confession at the Snow, Platt, Raymond, and Fen law firm in Philadelphia. When she got back from visiting their offices she told me, “One of Evangeline’s great-great-nieces heads the firm.”
“Evangeline’s great-great-niece? What’s her first name?”
Katherine answered with her sexy half-smile, “Lavender.”
“Uh huh,” I nodded, “and what does she look like?”
“Well, I’d say she looks like. Hmmm, how shall I put this, like... Victoria’s heart’s desire.”
“I’m surprised you’re back so soon,” I said wryly.
“My dear,” Kathryn returned, putting her arms around me, “Victoria’s heart’s desire is not my heart’s desire.”
When she got all her notes together, Kathryn applied for a grant to produce her book about Victoria Snow. She received confirmation of it in record time. With part of it she hired Nora to be her part-time research assistant, which extended Nora’s educational fellowship.
Nora continued to work part-time for Sara and Emma and continued to hold Kathryn in awe despite her best efforts to lighten up. I suspected Kathryn was teasing her by using her academic voice in its lowest register whenever they spoke. And I suspected Nora kind of liked it.
Amanda and Buster seemed to understand each other. She took Buster to her office at Clymer House at Irwin each day. He became a favorite fixture at the college.
The vandalism of the Civil War Cemetery stopped. Apparently it had been committed by Piper Staplehurst and Gabe Carbondale themselves to justify covering the entrance to the crypt. The grant for the wrought iron gates turned out to be real, however. Amanda Knightbridge oversaw the implementation of it. The Victoria crypt was secured within a few weeks, cutting off access from there to the tunnels.
Before the college rented out Fen House to someone new, it sealed the basement tunnel. Yet I couldn’t help believing that there were quite a few other entrances to those tunnels around the city.
Samson Henshaw went back to Lois and they tried to make a go of it. A few months later they divorced, and Lois left on a cross-country trip that ended up in Sarasota, Florida. She met a professor at the Ringling Bros. Barnum and Bailey Clown College, and they lived happily ever after.
*******
Right after the brunch, Kathryn and I went home to the loft. We shrugged off our jackets and scarves. I put the bag of Jessie’s leftovers in the refrigerator.
Kathryn stretched her arms over her head. “Mmmm. You know, if I keep eating as we do at Jessie and Farrel’s, I’ll lose my girlish figure. How do you manage?” she smiled, coming near me.
“I work out two hours a day and only eat there once a week. The rest of the time I eat watercress,” I said, reaching for her.
“I’ve never seen you eat watercress,” she said, beginning a slow kiss that made my toes curl.
“Kathryn, are you really serious about working with me? Doing investigations? Are you sure?”
Kathryn walked over to the couch and sat down. She patted the place next to her and I sat, waiting for her answer.
She leaned her head against her fist with her elbow on the back of the couch. Her voice became higher and slower. “I’m not just playing detective. Though there are parts of it I do like. You know, the part I really love about historical research is finding out about things, and figuring out connections, and there’s a great deal of that in detective work. But it’s more than that.” She paused for a moment. “Maggie, intellectually I know your job is an inseparable par
t of who you are and that I cannot ask you to change that.”
“I appreciate that you understand that.”
She took a deep breath and said, “I can’t just stand at the sidelines and watch you do these dangerous things. I need to share them with you and you seem to like talking them over with me. I’m very good at research, and I like to do it. I think I’d really be able to help you when it comes to that kind of thing. So, if you let me, and if you promise not to talk down to me, I’ll be the rookie. And by the way, I’m not particularly used to taking that role.”
“I would guess not,” I snorted lightly.
“Now you’re teasing me.”
“No, I’m impressed, but Kathryn, if you’re going to do this, even if it’s just behind-the-scenes research, there are things you really need to learn.”
“What kind of things?” Her eyes were twinkling.
“Like how you have to identify yourself, and what you’re legally allowed to say and do. How to preserve evidence. First aid. Martial arts. The search engines that find out the best information. That kind of stuff. If you really want to be in on things, then you could take a few courses at the community college.”
“You’re serious about this? You’d let me do this?”
“Kathryn, I don’t know if you’re ready to make this... um... kind of commitment, but it would be safer for you if you learned the skills.”
“I see, yes, I could do this. After all, I’m good at school. I could take some summer classes; I’ll have time then. Are you sure you want me to? Because I know I’m asking for a great deal of you. A great deal...” she said, shaking her head, then glancing around the room. “I’m asking you to share every part of your life. It’s quite a presumption.”
