by Janet Fox
That was how I felt as I sat there looking up at Connor, at his expressionless face, and then at Lou, who hovered behind him, and whose face twisted and worked with emotions I couldn’t read.
“Where?” I asked.
“To where we can have a conversation,” Connor said.
“Like the kind of conversation you had with Chester?”
“I didn’t speak with Chester. I believe that was an overzealous Neil.” Behind Connor, Badger Face Neil sneered. Ryan and Neil, both there. The two goons grinned at me, the kind of grins that I imagine wolves make before their evening meal. Connor shrugged. “Your cousin’s face was a bit too pretty. He needed a new nose.”
“You’re nothing but a bully,” I said, rising out of the chair. And then I reeled. “How did you know where I was?”
He smiled.
Charlie? Charlie had betrayed me? It was the only possibility. The gorge rose in my throat. I stared Connor straight in the eye. “I hate you.”
Connor’s eyes sharpened. “Careful, Miss Winter.” He nodded toward the door. “Let’s go.”
My heart beat hard. “I could just say no. I could make a fuss, right here in the lobby. So you’d have to leave me alone.”
“Please,” he said, but it wasn’t a request; his tone was disparaging. “This is 1925. Anything goes. No one will pay the slightest bit of attention. If you insist, we could go upstairs and have a conversation in my suite. It has a nice view of the city, from a high floor, with a lovely tall window that opens quite wide.”
My stomach took another turn on the Wonder Wheel.
“Tell your friend to get a move on,” Connor said to Lou.
Louie reached her hand for me. “Come on, doll,” she said, her voice tight. “Don’t make this difficult.”
I paused and said to Danny, “You’ve got the journal. Why take me? Why now? I’m not going to reveal what I know. Besides, your brother is—”
He interrupted, eyes flashing, “Like Teddy? We know better about Teddy, don’t we?”
I pressed my lips together.
Then he waved his hand. “You’ve read it.” It wasn’t a question. “But not the entire journal. Because some pages were missing, weren’t they? Locker number seventy-seven.”
“So what?”
“The thing is, Miss Winter, I can’t take the chance that Teddy might have revealed things to you in person. Since we both know that you helped him stage that little episode on the beach a year ago…Teddy’s journal can be destroyed, but I’m afraid we still have to deal with you.”
“But,” I began, and I hesitated. What should I say? I didn’t know what was in those pages. Teddy had kept every secret.
“And frankly, I’m not of the same mind about you as I was. I don’t need to add to my collections.” I knew what he meant. I’d lost my opportunity to make myself a bargaining chip. I glanced at Lou; her eyes were cold.
Connor barreled on. “Let’s go—I’ve had enough of you and your family. And there’s something else, if you resist.” He paused. “My brother Patrick, unlike Teddy, was never good at keeping secrets, especially when they involved his lady friends. So I know that Patrick was responsible for your cousin Melody’s predicament.”
I froze inside. Patrick was responsible. I’d thought John Rushton…but then…“How…”
Connor said, “I’ve been very good to a couple of maids in various households. You already know Adela. And one of John Rushton’s maids is a sweet little thing who talks too much. Rushton is caring for a young boy, Leo, who is of special interest to Melody.” He paused again. “I’ve been thinking of inviting little Leo out to the mansion. What do you say?”
“Leo?” I asked, my voice breaking.
Connor smiled. “Your cousin’s child. My nephew. His name is Leo.”
Leo. Melody’s little boy. I’d assumed he was Rushton’s. I’d been so wrong.
“Perhaps you didn’t know all the details. Leo is Melody’s child—and my brother’s. Leo is my nephew, Josephine.”
“Your nephew?”
The Ferris wheel feeling came back then. How stupid I’d been to assume I knew everything. I’d been so, so wrong. I’d misjudged Rushton. But more importantly, I’d underestimated the danger Connor posed. He knew about Melody’s deepest secret: Leo. And Leo was his nephew. I might have given myself to Connor and, maybe, kept him away from them all—especially little Leo. But now it was too late.
Danny’s cold glance told me all I needed to know. “Let’s go,” he said again.
The guys moved aside so that Lou and I couldn’t help but walk between them. I looked around, frantic, wishing that anyone was looking at me. But Jacques stood impassive at his podium, staring down, and the columns blocked my line of sight into the Rose Room. Besides, who was I looking for? Charlie had betrayed me—betrayed my whole family—to Connor. My heart broke, and I swallowed hard against grief.
No one else in the lobby of the Algonquin looked in our direction, either out of curiosity or concern. As we moved through the doors, I saw the doorman I’d seen on that first day. Pete. Maybe I could make him see I was in trouble. I gave him a big smile.
But Pete had eyes only for Danny Connor. “There you are, Mr. Connor, sir. Kept your car waiting like you asked, yes, sir, even put a little polish on it for you, there.” He reached for the back door of the limo, held it open. Danny gave Pete a wad of folded bills as he slipped into the back of the car. “Thank you, Mr. Connor, sir, much obliged.”
I tried to catch Pete’s eye, but he was fixated on getting the bills from his hand into his pocket. Or maybe he’d learned to ignore girls like me when they were in the company of Danny Connor.
Then I hoped for a minute that Sam would be behind the wheel, but he wasn’t. Ryan took the wheel and Neil climbed in beside him. I sat next to Louie in the back, facing Danny.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
Danny Connor smiled. “Why, home, of course.”
I looked out the window as Ryan eased away from the curb, wishing I could send a message to someone, to my aunt and uncle, to Mel, hoping I’d see the Algonquin again, but fearing I wouldn’t.
And that was when I saw Teddy. It was a quick flash, the briefest out of the corner of my eye, but I was sure. So sure I leaned toward the window, my mouth open, almost ready to cry out before I caught myself. So sure that tears welled in my eyes, and then Teddy was a blurred image. But it was Teddy, standing on the sidewalk watching the limo pull away, watching me through the window, mouthing something to me, something that maybe I imagined, but held on to that whole ride, hoping against hope.
Teddy, my hero, my guardian; he said, I’ll find you.
CHAPTER 45
Lou
At that point it wasn’t like I had a choice. Not anymore. How was I to know what was inside that stupid book of Teddy’s? Danny, he held his cards close to his vest.
I had my doubts, in the car. She was just a kid. Not much younger than I was when I met Danny, remember? And I had believed in Danny, had believed that he wouldn’t do anything really awful. But my heart was thumping something wicked, because I wasn’t sure what was in that book, and what it meant to Danny, and what he might really do if he was shoved into a corner. I’d seen Danny shoved into a corner only once or twice, and the results weren’t pretty.
And what he’d said about the little boy. Mel’s little boy.
I knew now Jo wasn’t a threat to me but to Danny. And I began to feel sorry for Jo Winter.
And I began to look at my Danny in a new, not-so-nice way.
Somewhere on the drive out to Great Neck we passed the sign, the billboard, peeling and faded, from one of the shows. I’d seen it a million times before, but now I saw it. Really saw it. I mean, it was a sign. A sign, get it?
HOWARD THURSTON: THE WONDER SHOW OF THE UNIVERSE! SEE THE YOUNG LADIES DISAPPEAR! SEE THEM LEVITATE! DO THE SPIRITS RETURN?
That’s when I had the idea. The disappearing girl, the girl who floats away. Of course! I got t
hat tingly feeling right up my spine, and you know what that means. The idea that popped into my head, that was it.
At that moment I reached over and took hold of Jo’s hand, and our eyes met, and she got it, too. I had to hold tight to Jo’s hand so she wouldn’t float away premature, if you get my drift.
Yeah, Detective, that’s when it all started to shift inside me. From Danny to Jo.
CHAPTER 46
JUNE 9–10, 1925
But above the gray land and the spasms of bleak dust which drift endlessly over it, you perceive, after a moment, the eyes of Doctor T. J. Eckleburg.
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby, 1925
Jo
It was dusk when Ryan closed the gates behind us and steered the car up the long drive with its gargoyle ornaments. The fountain in the court danced, and the lights were on under the water, shining up through the spray, creating shadows that shot up and made those cupids look like dancing devils in the growing dark.
Connor opened the door and gave his hand to Lou, who clutched me with her other hand. When we were all standing on the cobbles, Connor said, “Take our guest up to the Rose Room, Lou. Find something for her to wear. We’ll dress for dinner tonight. Formal. Neil”—and he nodded at Neil—“you’ll stand guard at Miss Winter’s door.”
Louie led me up the front steps, Neil right behind, carrying my valise.
“Neil!” Connor’s shout froze us all. “No one is to touch her. You understand me? Ryan?”
“Yes, sir,” the men chorused. Lou squeezed my hand tight.
“Come on, doll,” she murmured. “It’ll be all right.”
The Rose Room was a self-contained suite, with a bedroom, bath, and dressing room on the third floor, and with only one entrance. Louie left me to fetch some clothes while I went to the window.
Three stories in this place made a Wonder Wheel height. I remembered how the porcelain vase had smashed on the paving.
The only good thing, as far as I could figure, was that the windows overlooked the front of the house: the driveway, court, and fountain. I could see who was coming or going. There might even be a way for me to signal someone, as long as Connor and his men had their backs turned. A decorative cornice ran along the underside of the windows; I figured it would be enough for me to balance on if I could get a grip on the bricks above. There might be an open window into a room down the way. Maybe I could try during the night…as long as no one patrolled or looked up.
I tried to open the sash, but the window wouldn’t budge. I moved to the other window, but it, too, was tight. Then I saw why: the windows had been screwed shut. I looked at the screws. Without tools, it was hopeless.
Connor thought of everything, I had to give him that.
Louie came in, carrying an armful of clothing. “Danny said we’d dress for dinner. That’ll be fun.” She dumped the clothes on the bed. “I bet Danny’s asked Cook for something special. I’ve got this sweet rayon number in green that’ll hug your slim little figure like a dream….”
I grabbed her hand, interrupting. “Louie. What am I doing here? He’s keeping me prisoner.”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes. That auburn curl of hair fell across her cheek. “Sometimes Danny gets these ideas, that’s all.”
I backed away. “Ideas! This is one heck of an idea.”
“It’s my fault. I was jealous of you,” she murmured. “I wanted you gone. As in vamoose. Scram. Disappear.”
“What?” I sank down on the bed.
“I thought Danny had a thing for you. I was jealous. I thought you’d see what a sweet life I have and you’d try and take it from me.” She smiled, her head still bent. “I was so happy when I saw how you felt about Charlie, and how he feels about you.” She met my eyes. “But I still couldn’t let it go. That Danny might want you. So when Charlie slipped and said something about you showing up today at the Algonquin, I told Danny. To stay in good with him, see?”
I couldn’t find any words.
“Now I get that it’s all about that stupid book of your brother’s. What’s in there anyway?”
“Nothing that explains this kidnapping.”
“Kidnapping!” Lou laughed, but it was halfhearted. “Honey, he just wants to talk to you. I’m sure that’s all.”
She turned back to the task of sorting out clothes and hanging them up. She pulled a lime-green rayon floor-length sleeveless gown from the pile and held it up, over her arm like a shopgirl. It had a draped neckline and was bias cut, gorgeous, silky, and slinky. “I think this’ll look wonderful on you. It’ll match your eyes. Got shoes to match. I wish Charlie could be here to see you.” She spread the dress out on the bed.
I reached for her arm once again, laying my fingers on her, and said softly, “Danny may not be what you think, Lou.”
Her eyes burned at me and she pulled away. “Don’t. Don’t even try. I still love the bum, even though…” She bit her lip. “I like you lots, and I’m gonna take care of you, Jo, but don’t you say anything bad about Danny.” She moved toward the door. “Danny likes to eat at eight sharp. Cocktails at seven. Neil’ll escort you downstairs.” She shut the door, and I heard the lock click.
Neil carried a gun. Just a pistol, in a shoulder holster, but he made it clear he was armed by removing his jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair that was sitting in the hall outside my rooms. When he knocked on my door at seven and I stepped into the hallway in the lime-green rayon, he raised his eyebrows and lifted the jacket off the chair, ever so slowly.
I walked down the stairs, him trailing me, lifting the gown so that I wouldn’t trip. From below I heard phonograph music—something classical. When we reached the bottom, I followed the sound.
The drawing room had a double-height ceiling and extended the length of one wing. Neil stopped at the door and shut it behind me. The glass doors overlooking the terrace were open to the night, which was warm enough that I didn’t feel the need of a wrap over my bare shoulders. Danny and Louie were down at the far end: Connor standing before a small and unnecessary fire, Lou slouched in an armchair in a black floor-length gown with cap sleeves. She leaped to her feet when I entered the room.
“How often do I have to tell you?” I heard Connor, his voice a growl. “Don’t be so unladylike.”
She stiffened and turned to him. “Sorry, hon. I forget, you know?” She simpered; I could feel it all the way across the room. She reached her arm to him. “I’m sorry.”
That seemed to appease him. But when I reached them, he looked at me. “As part of your training, I wonder if you remember who wrote this piece of music, Louise.”
He was looking straight at me, those steel eyes narrowed to slits.
She took a step back and clasped her hands together. “Oh, I know this one. We listened to this one last week, didn’t we, sweetie?”
“Yes, we did. What is it?”
“Oh,” Lou said. “Oh, I know this.” She paced a little, working her hands into knots. “Um…”
“Louise?” Connor’s eyes never left mine. “You see, Josephine, I’m proud to be Irish. But I disdain ignorance. If we are ever to prove to the world that we should be treated with respect, we must become educated in all things.” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Louise, you are taking an awfully long time recollecting.” I’d never witnessed such a cruel exchange. It made me sick. I drew my hands into fists. “I would wager that your friend knows this composer.”
I did, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction. I shrugged, though my hands were still clenched. “Mozart?” I asked.
His steel eyes flared, then he turned to face the fire. “It’s Bach, Louise. The Brandenburg Concerti.”
“It was on the tip of my tongue! Bach! Of course!” Lou said, and put her hand on his shoulder.
His hand flashed and caught her on the lower part of the chin. She staggered back, her hand to her face. When I moved toward her, she shot me a look that I took to mean, Don’t. So I froze.
But my insi
des boiled. I saw what it meant for him to think that he was right, that he alone was right. And I cringed at my own sense of rightness.
Lou pressed her hand against her chin. “I promise, sweetie. I’ll remember next time.”
“I believe you should offer our guest a drink.”
“Sure! What would you like, doll? We’ve got a super bottle of champagne on ice right here.”
“That’ll be lovely,” I said through clenched teeth.
Louie poured me a glass. I took it, looked at it, and downed it in a gulp.
I wasn’t certain whether I was trying to fortify myself, drown my troubles, or prove something to Connor, but drinking the champagne like that was a mistake, as I could sense almost at once.
Louie’s eyes grew round as I held out my glass for a refill. She mouthed at me, Watch it.
This time I held the glass up before I drank. “A toast,” I said. The room swam a bit around the edges.
Danny turned, his eyebrows arched.
“To Teddy,” I said. No one else moved. “For bringing us all together,” I said, and took a sip.
“Oh!” said Lou. “I’ll drink to that.” She took a sip, her eyes darting between Danny and me. He did not lift his glass.
“Josephine,” Connor said, his voice a slow drawl, “if you think that Teddy, or his journal, will help you now, you are mistaken.”
The room swam at more than the edges; the whole place seemed to shrink around me, constricting like a tight-focused telescope. I put one hand on the high back of the chair next to me.
“Your brother betrayed me,” Connor continued. “He lied. And he was responsible for Patrick….” Danny paused, as if something caught in his throat. “I won’t tolerate deception. I will not forgive. My dear, you are here as bait.”
Bait. Hooked, that was for sure, even now when I fought him. And then…the swirling thought…deception?
Danny went on. “You see, I’d asked Neil and Ryan to take care of Teddy. To get rid of him, last year. There was some confusion, because you came out with the discovery of his clothing, the presumption of his drowning.”
