Book Read Free

The Harrison: A Beautiful Place to Die (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 2)

Page 5

by Madison Kent


  “Now, let us not be too hasty. Let me see what I can find out for you.”

  “Is it possible to speak with the owner?”

  “My dear, the three brothers who own the Harrison are rarely here…business, you know. It takes them around and out of the country. However, I will note your request, and see what I can do when one of them is available.”

  “That would be greatly appreciated.”

  He left to speak with a young man standing near the elevator, who she later learned was the brothers' assistant, Alfred.

  He returned a few minutes later and said, "“Apparently, there were a large number of young women here two weeks ago for some fashion event. Perhaps you can start there. The business that running the event was…let’s see…oh, here it is, House of Morgan. Here is their contact information.”

  “And my other request...to speak to one of the brothers?"

  “I will let their personal assistant know of your request, but I believe it unlikely. We here at the hotel, of course, aspire to know what happened to the girls and are hopeful they shall all return to their families without incident.”

  “Yes, of course. That is what we all wish. Good day, sir.”

  She seemed to arrive at her doorstep as if without knowledge of how she got there. Her thoughts immersed with the inevitable conversation with Rosa and Louie about Maria, and her growing concern over the other missing girls.

  Father met her at the door, embracing her and saying, "Madeline, Henry told me what happened. It is too terrible. I am so glad you are home safe. I was so worried about you knowing you had such news. Those poor dear souls, their lives will never be the same. Will you be going to see them?"

  "I must, father. I may be an unwelcome visitor. They may wish to be alone with their grief, but I must go and offer my condolences and see if there is anything at all that I may do to help them."

  "Then let me grab my bag. They may be in need of a sedative or something medical that I may be able to help them with."

  "Thank you, father. I think you are right. Assuming, of course, that they already have been told by the police."

  "Yes, of course. It certainly wouldn't be our place to do that. If they do not know, I think perhaps you should suggest you take a trip to the Maxwell Station to check on any current information."

  "Good idea. Let's hurry, Father. We will be back as soon as we are able, Mrs. O'Malley."

  Chapter Five

  A Time to Cry

  Father hailed a carriage and patted her hand several times while they rode together.

  "This is a terrible thing, Madeline. Promise me you will be extremely careful while you pursue these missing ladies. I agree with you now that there must be something more going on than a few young ladies caught up in the fervor of the atmosphere of the city and innocently staying away."

  They lived within proximity to Rosa and had arrived within a short time.

  "Father, our question as to whether they know about Maria has been answered for us. Look, there is an officer standing on their porch and another at the foot of the stairs."

  He squeezed her hand as they ascended from the carriage and proceeded to Rosa's home. The officer stopped them and said, "I'm sorry, no one is allowed inside without the family's expressed permission. It is a private matter."

  "I see. Will you please tell them Madeline Donovan is here and brings her father, who is a physician? We are here to help if it is wanted."

  The tall, thin, youthful man strode up the steps and returned within moments.

  "You may go in," he said curtly, nervously pulling at his jacket. She assumed, like she and her father, that all here were uncomfortable with the task at hand. All of them sharing in some way in the family's loss, knowing that although they could sympathize and comfort, they could never know the profound grief the family was feeling.

  Louie came out to meet them, looking dazed, wiping his forehead where drops of sweat had accumulated.

  "We have just learned the news. I have not gone to identify that it is our Maria, but the officer had her picture with him and confirmed it was her. Rosa is in a state of shock, as you can well imagine. She has all but collapsed upon her bed. Perhaps Dr. Donovan, if you could look in on her," requested Louie.

  "Of course, I will go at once. I anticipated she would need something to calm her and someone to comfort her," said the doctor.

  "Madeline, I must go to the coroner's office. Would you accompany me?" asked Louie.

  "Yes, I will assist you in any way that I can. Our housekeeper, Mrs. O'Malley, is making soup and stew for you.

  "Our carriage is still here. I had asked the driver to wait, in the event that you did not wish to see us," she replied.

  "I cannot think. It is overwhelming. There is a part of me that wants to believe it will not be my sister, but I know that is unrealistic. I was concerned but made myself think she had gone off and had a romantic rendezvous. I suppose I never allowed myself to think the worse, and now it has arrived."

  "I don't know what to say except how truly sorry I am. I had so much hope also for a positive outcome."

  They continued speaking while riding in the carriage, Madeline relating to Louie what she had learned.

  When they arrived, they were ushered in quickly to a waiting area. Momentarily, they were met by the coroner, a stern looking older man with trimmed brown hair and bushy mustache.

  "Please, come in. She is in here. This is not an easy thing to do. Do you need a moment?" asked the gentleman.

  "No, please, I need to see this through," said Louie.

  "Come then," replied the man.

  The area was ripe with death. There were seven or eight cadavers lying beneath stark white sheets. Madeline trembled as she walked past them, noticing the toe of one person, tagged and fallen out from beneath the sheet. She would be glad to leave with as much haste as was possible.

  The man pulled back the cover, and Louie grabbed onto the table, leaning over the now deceased body of his sister. He moaned but did not cry, or say one word for several minutes. The man and Madeline stood beside him respectively giving him this moment.

  "What exactly killed her? Was she crushed by the carriage?" he asked.

  "It appears so. You can see here," the coroner said as he pointed to her neck and what appeared to be a bulging where the break occurred.

  He pulled back the sheet and asked, "She has jewelry which I am sure you might wish to remove."

  As Louie retrieved her rings and necklace, Madeline touched his arm. "Look there, her wrists. There are bruises around both of them. Certainly the accident could not have caused that? Bruises don't form that quickly."

  "You are right. We have not yet done a full autopsy, but the markings on her wrists would have no bearing on her death."

  "Would they be from some type of struggle or having her wrists bound?" asked Madeline.

  "I suppose that is a possibility. Why? Was she accosted in some way prior to her accident?" asked the man.

  "She was missing for many days," replied Louie, "we don't actually know what may have happened to her."

  "Now that you have made the identification, we will call you within a few days with a full report. Again, we are sorry for your loss," said the coroner.

  Louie held the few items of jewelry that he had taken from his sister and a lock of hair he clipped from her head.

  "This is all, Madeline, all that I have left of this once vibrant, beautiful woman. I had not seen her for so long, and when she finally arrives, the most unspeakable of events happens," then he added with an urgent look on his face, "You will go on investigating. I must know what happened. I do not believe this was an accident. These events are so peculiar."

  "Yes, the bruises. It doesn't make sense. It appears as if her wrists were bound in some way. I will do my best to find out what happened to her. Have the police told you anything?"

  "I don't know if they will follow up. They say it was a simple accident. They believe that possibly drink or d
rugs incapacitated her. At least, that is what I overheard one of the officers stating. I don't believe with that attitude that they will be thorough if those thoughts are at the forefront of their thinking. I am dismayed by everything that has happened. I am not thinking clearly, and I will need to be Rosa's support. I am asking you to continue the search to find out what really is going on here."

  "I will. You have my word on it. I'm sure my father will give you something to calm you should you need it. I will contact you if there are any new developments. In the meantime, call on Father and me, if you just need someone to talk to."

  "Thank you, Madeline. We will have to plan her funeral now. There will be much to do. Take care and I am sure we will be speaking soon."

  She hugged his slumped-over body, feeling helpless that there was nothing she could do for him now except to find the truth of what happened to Maria.

  When she returned home, her father had already returned.

  "Miss Rosa is in a state. She did calm down somewhat after I gave her a small draft of opium. What a terrible thing to have happened! That poor girl, I wonder what state of mind she was in to have put herself in such danger."

  "Father, I don't believe it could have been an accident. What if she were trying to get away from someone, and that caused her to run in front of the carriage? Or what if she was pushed?"

  "Madeline, this is not London, with its madman, Jack the Ripper. This is Erie Street, a peaceful lovely community of friends and neighbors. I think you are letting your imagination run away with you."

  "We'll see. Perhaps I am assuming the worse for no reason, but there is something going on within our community, and it is not healthy nor peaceful."

  "By the way, you have a letter from your gentleman friend."

  "How wonderful! I miss them all so much, Father. It is a treat to hear from any of them, but especially Hugh."

  "I did not say it was Hugh. It may have been Jonathan."

  "Oh..."

  "No, you are correct. It is Hugh," he said as he watched her blush at the mention of his name. "So, he is the one who has captured your attention. I thought you said you liked them both the same."

  "I do. I suppose I had been thinking of London so often, I just assumed it was from Hugh."

  "Hmm....well, go on and read your news. I will be going to my office."

  She retrieved her letter and a cup of tea and went onto the porch. Her letter from Hugh would be a welcome respite from the events of these past days.

  She could hear Mrs. O'Malley humming in the kitchen, and somehow her familiar lyrical hum made the world a nicer place to be.

  She opened the letter carefully, as if not to disturb its contents in anyway.

  June 2, 1889

  Madeline,

  I have been so busy of late that I have neglected to write you. But I hope you will be pleased when I tell you of my startling news. A cousin of mine, twice removed, who I had been very close to as a child has met with a riding accident that unfortunately, resulted in his death. Unexpectedly, he has let to me a considerable amount of money. At least, considerable enough to me that it will make a significant change in my life.

  I plan to take a leave of absence from my law practice and come to your native Chicago for an extended visit. My hope is that I will purchase land there, so that I may spend time both in London and Chicago in the future.

  I have been diligently working on the plans to come and have already booked my passage on the City of New York. Now I will get to see her as you did, not just at a glance, but as a passenger. Phillip, of course, will be working, and I will have him for company. He also is planning to stay a few days in Chicago with me until he is required to return to the ship.

  I am hoping this news that I will be coming to see you will be as delightful to you as it is to me. I have told the aunts, and they are already busy embroidering something or other for you. They say they still plan someday to come on coming to see you sometime in the near future.

  Please write back at your earliest convenience. I hope to hear from you before my departure, which will be in three weeks.

  Your dearest friend,

  Hugh Scott

  What wonderful news, she thought. If ever she could use the sight of a friendly face and confident, it was now. It had taken almost two weeks for his letter to arrive, so she decided to write him back immediately.

  June 12, 1889

  Hugh,

  I just received your letter and read it with such happiness as I have not had for a while. As I have told you about my recent escapades into the life of a female detective, I'm sure it won't be a complete shock that some very unpleasant news has happened. The young woman I had been seeking was found dead. I will go into greater detail when I see you. There are many mysterious events occurring in my once-quiet life on Erie Street.

  I hope you will consider staying with us. We have a three-flat, and the upper floor is vacant. It is not large and not furnished in the grandest style, but I hope, nonetheless, that you might wish to stay with us. It is large enough to accommodate both you and Phillip.

  I will look forward with great anticipation to your safe arrival.

  Your friend,

  Madeline

  She thought it necessary to post the letter immediately to be certain Hugh would receive it before his departure. The post office was within a block of the Harrison Hotel, and she could stop there as well.

  The Harrison, as usual, was busy with a throng of people perusing its shops and partaking in a meal at one of its three cafes. She was disappointed to see that neither Nancy nor Marilyn was at their usual spot in the French cafe's outside area.

  Madeline again asked the concierge if it were possible to speak to one of the three brothers who owned the hotel and once again was refused. She had purchased a newspaper outside and now went to the cafe for a cup of tea. She could read the paper as a guise to observing the people. She was about to be seated when she felt a tug on her arm.

  A heavyset elderly woman, with gray hair pinned back in a bun, and silver spectacles sliding down her nose was staring at her.

  "I've seen you here several times, and I heard you asking about my boys again. What is it you want of them, if you don't mind me asking?"

  "Your boys? You must be mistaken. I'm not sure what you mean," replied Madeline.

  "You keep pestering my friend, Mr. Thomas, and I have to tell you I don't like it. What do you want with them, the Harrison boys?"

  "Do you mean the owners of this hotel?"

  "None other."

  "Are they your sons?"

  She laughed then, a belly laugh that made her plump stomach jiggle beneath her elegant beaded gown.

  "They may as well be, for they treat me like their own mother, and I love them as my own. I lost my own boy many years ago to the polio. I knew them and their mother when they were young, and they have let me stay here for such little money, you'd think I was their mother."

  "I see. I meant no offense. I am sure they are great men. Certainly, they are successful men. But you see, there are missing young ladies—perhaps in some danger—and many of them have been seen at this hotel. I feel the Harrison's have an obligation to look into it. At the very least to have their staff look into it, to see if someone who's staying here may have some connection to these disappearances."

  "You can ask me. It would be just the same as asking them. I know everything about the goings on here. I don't stay in my room much. I like to mingle with the people. If there's anybody who would know anything, it would be me. Ask away."

  Madeline took the pictures she had of Maria and the other girls and showed them to the woman.

  "These are the girls I am looking for. By the way, may I ask your name?"

  "It's Mary Brooks, but they call me Lady Mary around here. That's respect—they all know I have my connections with the Harrisons," she said with an air about her and a tilt of her head upward.

  "Now, let me get a good look at these girls."

&nb
sp; She held the pictures in her hand, tracing her fingers over the lines of their faces. She kept her head down for several minutes, turning and shuffling each picture back and forth. Madeline thought it odd the way Mary was concentrating on each one, but given her personality, Madeline then dismissed it.

  When Mary finally looked up, she didn't look her in the eye and said, "No, quite sure. I can tell you none of these girls have been in this hotel. I'd stake my life on it. Quite sure, yes, quite sure."

  "You seemed a little startled when you first glanced at the pictures. Are you certain you have seen none of them?"

  "Startled—heavens no! That's just an old lady's nerves coming out. I tell you I would remember fine-looking girls like these. Now, you see, you have no reason to talk to the boys."

  "I appreciate your time, Mrs. Brooks...I mean, Lady Mary. May I get you a cup of tea or a pastry?"

  "No, it's my time to sit out on the patio. The sun is almost setting. It's the best time of the day, and everyone stops to talk to me."

  "Well, thank you again. I'm sure I will see you again when I come to visit the Harrison."

  Now Madeline was captivated. There was no doubt that Lady Mary was lying, but was it as simple as she felt the need to protect "her boys" or was it more than that. Madeline felt certain Lady Mary had seen either one or all of the girls. She had watched her body language. Although she could not see her face clearly, the way she moved abruptly when she looked at Maria's picture gave her pause to think Lady Mary had seen her. She felt clues to what happened to these girls were at the Harrison.

  Walking home, she felt a new purpose and resolve in getting to the bottom of this mystery. What she believed was only supposition had now turned into a credible belief. She knew the Harrison brothers were guilty of misconduct, but how far did that go? Could it really include murder?

  It was after seven when she arrived home. Father, Uncle Hank and Mrs. O'Malley were all gathered in the dining area enjoying their coffee and some leftover cherry pie.

 

‹ Prev