The Detective Bride

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The Detective Bride Page 1

by Sylvia Damsell




  THE DETECTIVE BRIDE

  by Sylvia Damsell

  Copyright: Sylvia Damsell

  Published: 2018

  The right of Sylvia Damsell to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the author. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  PLEASE NOTE

  Lower Pine and Middle Pine are fictitious towns not far from Lone Pine, California.

  Although this novel is set in California the spelling of the author is British.

  Kate Warne was the first female detective and was employed by Alan Pinkerton. That is history.

  The lady detective who is the heroine of this novel is fictitious.

  Cover designed by Nerys Leigh

  nerysleigh.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 1

  “A detective!” Tall, with a thatch of light brown hair, brown eyes and a face which caused women to look at him more than once, Jason Crane looked at his sister, an atypical frown creasing his forehead.

  “And what’s so terrible about that?”

  “It’s a man’s job.”

  “Do you want me to hit you?” He backed as she advanced and was sure she would, given half a chance, though his reply was as sarcastic as hers would be on certain occasions.

  “Yes, of course I do. I love being hit. Why do you want to be a detective?”

  She stopped in her tracks. “And this from the man who used to play detectives with me when we were younger. I want to solve mysteries.”

  “Probably most of your cases will be women hiring someone to follow their husbands or husbands doing the same to their wives. Do you want to be responsible for abused women being returned to their former abusive situation? That isn’t solving mysteries. It’s just cruel.”

  “Detectives do other things and if there was anything like that I’d work it somehow to the woman’s advantage. The firm I’m applying to is reputable. Pinkerton suggested it so it must be. He would have hired me except that he already has a lady detective in his employ. I will be the second lady to take up such a post.”

  Jason frowned. “It could involve danger.”

  “Everything involves danger. Even walking down the street does that and particularly for a woman. I know how to look after myself.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “You not liking it isn’t going to put me off. I’m sick of working in the mercantile. The customers are rude, the owner of it is sleazy and the staff are inefficient. I’ve tried to improve things but no-one will listen to me.”

  “There are other jobs.”

  “Such as?”

  “Sewing. Cooking. Cleaning. Being a nanny. You could maybe even teach if the pupils don’t mind someone ignorant doing it. The traditional things women do.” He backed again at her narrowed eyes. “Have you had an interview yet?”

  “This afternoon. Pinkerton set it up.”

  “Probably because you’re so pretty. He hasn’t employed you so the other man won’t.”

  “I told you. Pinkerton already has a lady detective in his employ.”

  “Have you told mother and father?” Jason asked.

  “Mother and father?” Her expression was amused. “Since when do you call them that?”

  “I’m too old to say mama and papa.”

  “Pronounce it differently.”

  “I could just call them ma and pa.”

  “Mama would have a fit. As for telling them, how can I do that? They’re never home.”

  “There are such things as telegrams.”

  “No, I haven’t told them and I don’t want you to either. I’m only telling you because I want a listening ear. Not a very sympathetic one but it will have to do.”

  Jason’s expression softened. “I care about you and I don’t want you in danger.”

  “Humph!” She was obviously not impressed but she was nervous and they had always been good friends. They played together as children. They encouraged each other, or maybe it was more her encouraging him and particularly now he had decided to attend a New York university to study law. He was younger than her by three years and just nineteen.

  “We’re home. Is anyone here?”

  Susannah turned at the sound of her mother’s voice, not expecting them at this minute because they rarely did say when they would return from their travels. Her mother, a tall, elegant and attractive woman in her mid forties, crossed the hall of their large house on the outskirts of New York and put her arms round them in turn. Her father staggered through the door carrying two huge carpet bags. No doubt heavier than when they went and there were probably more.

  He walked over, hugged his son and daughter in turn and made for the door.

  “How many bags?” Susannah asked.

  “Eight. They’re easier to carry than trunks but your father could use some help.” Rosemary looked at her son. “Would you, please?”

  “Yes, of course.” He made for the door. “I’ve decided to go to university. I applied and have been accepted.”

  “Good for you. To study what?”

  “Law.”

  “Admirable.” Rosemary threw her coat on a chair. “We’ve contacted Lawson. He’ll be in later today.”

  Lawson, their butler, who often was absent when the Cranes went on their travels. He was more for show than anything else but he did look after the place in general. While Henry and Rosemary Crane were away he would check on things regularly and a housekeeper also came in each day for about four hours to clean where necessary.

  Susannah picked up the coat as it slipped to the floor and hung it over the bottom of the bannister. Sometimes she felt she was more the mother rather than her flighty one but Rosemary had always been there for her in difficult periods. She encouraged the young people in what they did and rarely interfered in their lives.

  Which included Randolph Stubbs who had broken Susannah’s heart when he decided to pursue someone else, but who later she recognised to be fickle, shallow and certainly not good husband material. Her mother was there to wipe away her tears and her father, she found out later, had not been gentle with him though he told her no details.

  She could easily live a life of luxury without lifting a finger to support herself but she had refused to do that. She had no desire to be a society lady, she informed her parents, nor did she intend to become one of the simpering young women who came to the dances they would hold when her parents were home. Hence her employment at the mercantile.

  “Did you have a good journey?” she asked.

  “Very good. I’m starving. Can we talk in the kitchen?”

  “Yes, of course. I could cook you something. I have to go out this afternoon b
ut I’m not leaving until two.”

  “No. I’ll cook you something. Is there anything much in the pantry?”

  “Yes. I brought stuff home from the mercantile yesterday.”

  Rosemary looked at her daughter briefly. “You shouldn’t work there, darling. I’m sure you don’t like it and it isn’t necessary.”

  “I’m looking into other types of employment. Can you do us one of your chicken stews?”

  “It’s better than bread and cheese for every meal,” Jason called through. “Teach your daughter how to cook, mum.”

  Rosemary smiled. “Not my son?”

  “Cooking is women’s ......” Jason ran as Susannah charged from the kitchen and lunged at him. “Mum, protect me.”

  “You’re on your own there, darling, and if you want a wife you’ll need to learn what to say and what not to say. I can’t do chicken stew because there’s no chicken. Even if we went out to get one it would take a couple of hours to cook.”

  “There is in tins,” Susannah said, walking back into the kitchen. “I’ve left my job at the mercantile.”

  Rosemary went back into the larder. “Good.”

  “I’m going for an interview this afternoon to be a detective.”

  “Detective?” Rosemary walked back holding two tins.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve never heard of a lady being a detective.”

  “There is one employed by Pinkerton. He’s arranged this interview with an associate of his.”

  “And what does being a detective involve?”

  “Following men who cheat on their wives,” Jason said, walking back into the kitchen. “Or women who do the same.”

  “Nothing else?”

  “There will be all sorts of mysteries to solve,” Susannah said. “And I’m being a detective, whatever anyone says or thinks.”

  “You must be what you want,” Rosemary said. “And I know you’ll be proficient at your job because you think things through. Let us know if you need anything.”

  She hadn’t meant to tell her mother what she was going to do. Maybe she thought she would object. But then she never did try to stop them doing things and it was nice to be supported. Would her father support her too?

  But he, like Jason, was a bit more verbal until his wife put her hand on his arm. He looked at her, smiled slowly and toned down. It was always a comfort to Susannah to know how close her parents were, even to her mother agreeing to her going to boarding school when she was younger. Her father had been verbal then but Rosemary obviously talked him into allowing her to go. When they said she could Jason immediately wanted to attend boarding school also.

  They both found they enjoyed it which was the start of their parents’ travels. Now they went anywhere and everywhere frequently, quite often to do with Henry’s business which took him all over the country.

  “It’s a tough world out there,” Henry said.

  “I know but it’s not going to get any worse because I’m a detective.”

  “She probably won’t get the job,” Jason said.

  Susannah made a face at him. “And thank you for the vote of confidence.”

  “Women aren’t logical. Everyone knows that. You need to be logical to solve mysteries.”

  “I thought I was just going to be following unfaithful husbands or wives.”

  “That too.”

  “Stop nagging your sister,” Rosemary said. “And.” She looked at her husband. “Stop nagging your daughter.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The two men spoke together and Susannah giggled. When she arrived at the office fifteen minutes early for the appointment she was not quite as happy. The interview with Pinkerton had gone better than she anticipated but she had not got the job despite his sympathetic and gentlemanly ways. It was quite likely she wouldn’t now.

  The man sitting at the reception desk had hawk like features, or that was how Susannah described them to herself. He would frighten the life out of any prospective no gooders, maybe even out of the clients. He pointed to a chair and Susannah sat, her eyes on her immediate surroundings.

  Were the clients treated anymore civilly than he was treating her? Did they get offered a hot drink of some kind? She knew she would tell Jason it was just like a man not to think of the finer details. If she was the receptionist she would do that. She would also give the place a good paint. Pinkerton’s office was very pleasant and the man on the reception desk courteous.

  She picked up a newspaper which sat on a low table and a tall man walked in. He sat next to her as the receptionist went through a door and held out his hand.

  “I’m Noah Howes. Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Does that have any significance?” she asked.

  “I work here.”

  “As a detective?”

  “More as a bodyguard.”

  She took a good look at him. Definitely muscular though not at all fat, his legs and arms were long and he had a clean shaven face which was definitely pleasant to look at, with a thatch of brown curly fair hair. His eyes were brown, his mouth wide and his nose was rather a nice shape. Just a nose really but it seemed to have an added something she couldn't quite define. She searched for a word. Regality. It had an added regality.

  “What does being a bodyguard involve?” she asked.

  “Keeping an eye on the detectives and helping when necessary.”

  “I thought men could take care of themselves.”

  “Not always. Detective work can often be dangerous.”

  “I’m being interviewed to be one.”

  “Then I’ll be your bodyguard sometimes. In fact, on your first case you may definitely need one.”

  She looked at him eagerly. “You mean I’m going to be employed?”

  “Will it make you less nervous if I tell you?”

  “Definitely.”

  “No. I mustn’t.”

  “But I’ll have a first case?”

  He gave a delightful grin. “Yes.”

  “Miss Crane. Mr. Clark will see you now.”

  “Is Mr. Clark as much a battle axe as he looks?” Susannah whispered to Noah, looking through the door where he sat.

  “Definitely,” he whispered back.

  Susannah screwed her nose and made for the door of the office feeling decidedly more confident. She was going to be given the job. She didn’t have to worry about it. She straightened her face as she went to walk in. She mustn’t do or say anything which would jeopardise her acceptance. She must do everything to prove how good she would be at her job. She must look proficient.

  Mr. Clark looked up and indicated a chair on the other side of his desk. “Good afternoon, Miss Crane. Would you be seated? I want to tell you about your first assignment.”

  First assignment? She hadn’t even been interviewed. She sat and resisted the urge to say something. He held out a file.

  “We have been asked to look into a robbery which took place in a jeweller’s shop in Princeton. We know who did the robbery but we need proof and the only way to get it is for you to become acquainted with one of the burglars. He is a guitarist in a large band which we are employing at some concerts, both in Princeton and New York.”

  “How would I get to know him?” Susannah asked.

  “You will be singing at the concerts.”

  “Singing? I don’t sing well enough to do so at concerts.”

  “You do. I know because I’ve heard you sing in your church. You have an outstanding voice.”

  Susannah looked down at the file. “I wouldn’t say outstanding but thank you. However, even if I do have a passable voice a person has to be well known to sing at concerts.”

  “You also know French and speak it fluently.”

  “How will that help me?”

  “Mirelle Noir is visiting New York and Princeton for a few concerts. During that time she is going to keep an eye on the guitarist and get hold of proof of what his extracurricular activities include.”

  “L
ike robbing jewellers?”

  “Like robbing jewellers.”

  “I could do that,” Susannah said.

  “I thought you could.”

  “I’ll need gowns and other things. Do you provide them?”

  “Mr. Howes will accompany you to the dress shop and assist you in carrying your parcels.”

  “What if someone comes to the concerts who I know?”

  “That risk we will have to take but you will be wearing a wig for the performances. Everything is in your notes, which you need to read carefully. Your first concert is in two days so you must leave for Princeton tomorrow because you’ll be practising with the orchestra for a couple of mornings.”

  Tomorrow? Everything was beginning to become a bit too real. Mr. Clark continued. “I suggest you read everything now in the adjoining office which we will make yours when you’re here, then itemise what you will be needing. You could shop tomorrow morning and leave in the afternoon. There is just one thing.”

  “What is that?”

  “You must not tell anyone what you are about to do or blow your cover in any way. In fact, we are booking you into a hotel in New York the days you’re singing here and you mustn’t have anything to do with your family until afterwards. Make an excuse to be away. Say you’re going to stay with a friend or something.”

  “I don’t have that much to do with my family,” Susannah said. “My parents are away a lot of the time though they’re home at the moment, and my brother is out a lot. Sometimes we don’t see each other for days. I won’t tell anyone anything.”

  “Good. You also need to leave your present employment.”

  “I already have.”

  “Because of this job?”

  “Not particularly. Because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Don’t you want to know anything about me?”

  “I know everything about you. That’s what we do, pry into other people’s lives.” Mr. Clarke stood. “If you go through Mr. MacIntyre will show you your office.”

  Susannah started towards the door. “How much will I be paid?”

  “More than the mercantile. It’s in your file.”

  She turned at the doorway. “Your reception area could do with some tidying up, painting, that sort of thing.”

 

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