Fallen Women

by Sandra Dallas

  “Not before I present you with a proposition.”

  Beret raised an eyebrow. “Oh yes, I believe you are good at propositions now.”

  “Still the acid tongue, Beret? How it must wither the malcontents at the mission, but I can withstand your scorn. Who knows better than I what a shrew you can be?” He smiled, not a flirtatious smile as before but a hard one. “Yes, a proposition, because you really do care what people think.”

  They stood in the wide entrance hall, beside a table, and Beret glanced down to see a note with her name on it. She picked it up, thinking it might have been left by Mick. But the note, written in a garbled hand, was signed by her uncle and told that he and her aunt had gone to church and would lunch afterward with friends. Beret glanced up the staircase, which was dark. In fact, the entire house was dark, and she shivered as she thought of herself alone in that gloomy place with Teddy. “Nothing you can say is of interest to me.”

  “Perhaps not. But do me the courtesy of hearing me out, and I believe you will not be so sanguine.” When Beret did not reply, he continued. “You may not care what society thinks of you, but you do care what it thinks of your mission?”

  “And what is that to you?”

  “Not much. I never cared about the mission, except that it got you away from the house.”

  Beret gave him a look of disdain.

  “The proposition,” he said.

  “Ah yes. State it, Edward, and then leave.”

  “You say you don’t care what society thinks of you, but you do care what they think of the Marta Osmundsen Mission. New York society, if you must know, believes you are odd, well intended, of course, but strange and a bit of a bore on the subject of raising money for the poor and downtrodden.”

  “And what is that to you?”

  “Oh, I never cared. I rather liked the fact you were a little different. It made you interesting. I didn’t even mind that you asked my friends for money to support your little project.”

  “How gratifying.”

  “But I wonder now how many of them would be willing to open their doors to you, to underwrite your charity if they knew about Lillie?”

  Beret frowned. She didn’t understand what Teddy was getting at. “I suppose some people know. I do not believe that would stop them from donating to the mission.”

  “Ah, but do they know the whole ugly story?”

  “About how you seduced Lillie?” Beret was angry and steadied herself by grabbing the table, clutching her uncle’s note.

  “That part is of no consequence. I’m talking about how Lillie was pregnant, a prostitute, murdered in a brothel. She was a girl from one of New York’s wealthiest families, and she ended up dead in a whorehouse.”

  “I suppose some of that might make the rounds of the gossips. There is nothing I can do about it.”

  “It’s not just the gossips. I’m talking about all of New York. They would read about the scandal in one of the newspapers, in the dirtiest and most sensational of them all, the one the servants prefer behind stairs, the American. I’m surprised they haven’t found out who the dead whore is. But I could tell them. You see, Beret, all I have to do is approach a reporter friend of mine and tell him about Lillie, how she ran away from a brutal sister who forced her to work in a mission where she learned the ways of a prostitute, how she fled to Denver where she was caught up in society, then abandoned it for life in a bagnio. The public loves stories about a wayward girl caught in the clutches of a mad killer, and this one involves not one but three prostitutes, one of them a New York society girl. And let’s not forget that Lillie was pregnant. Oh, what a story it will make. It will be on the front page for a week, and the Sun and the Tribune and even the Times will be forced to pick it up. Everybody will be talking about it. What a delicious scandal. And you know what scandal does to a charity. Why, even your best donors will have their servants close the door in your face.” He smiled at her, a smug, vicious smile. “You know what I say is true.”

  “My donors are loyal.”

  “All of them?”

  Beret dropped the note on the table and turned away. “How could you think such a thing, Teddy? You were my husband. You were my sister’s lover. Can you not give her dignity in death? Are you so depraved that you would use her death to destroy what I have worked for all my life?”

  “Not so depraved, Beret, only in need of funds.”

  “And how much would you get for this story?”

  “Probably nothing.”

  Beret looked at him sharply, confused.

  “The money would come from not selling the story.”

  “Ah,” she said, understanding now, “blackmail.”

  “Such an ugly word. I think of it as a business proposition.”

  “How much?”

  “Ten thousand. I should ask for twenty, but I am not so greedy. You would be investing in my future. You see, I’ve turned out to be a pretty good gambler, but I need a stake.”

  “Ten thousand must be considerably more than what Lillie paid you.” Beret stared at him. “Oh yes, I know all about how she gave you money. You were her mac, her pimp, if you like.”

  “That is disgraceful. I never brought men to her.”

  “But you took her money. And you placed her at Miss Hettie’s House of Dreams.”

  “The money, I admit, although it was not so much, but I never took Lillie to that place. I was as surprised as you when I learned she was there.”

  Beret gave him a disbelieving look. “I see your true colors now, Edward, not that I haven’t known for a long time what they were.”

  As the two of them stared at each other, the front door was suddenly flung open, banging against the wall, and the cold air rushed in. Startled, Beret clutched her robe with one hand and reached out the other to Teddy, who took it. When she realized she had only failed to latch the door securely and the wind had blown it open, she sighed and started to put down her hand. But Teddy would not release it. She watched as he raised it to his lips. Then suddenly, he grabbed her in his arms and kissed her. Beret put her hands against his chest and tried to push him away, but he would not let her go, and at last she yielded to him, for what else could she do? He put his cheek against hers and whispered, “Oh, my dearest, couldn’t we try again? Don’t reduce me to begging for money.”

  Beret felt the warmth of his arms and closed her eyes for a moment. But it was impossible, and she pushed him away. She took a step backward and placed her hand on the hall table to steady herself. “No, Teddy, not that.”

  Teddy sighed, and Beret thought that for a moment, he was disappointed. He glanced down at his walking stick, still clutched in one hand, and absently polished its gold knob on his coat. “Then I must go back to my proposition—ten thousand dollars, Beret, and I will be mum as a moth.”

  Beret could not believe that after kissing her, Teddy still demanded money. She stared at him and did not reply.

  “Think of it as coming from Lillie’s share of the inheritance. She has done you a favor in dying, Beret. Now her share of the fortune is yours.”

  “How dare you!” Tears came into Beret’s eyes, tears of rage and uncertainty at the way her emotions had bounced back and forth in only seconds. “I never thought you were this depraved, Teddy, but now I know you are no better than the brutes I’ve encountered who beat their wives nearly to a pulp. You are every vile thing. Get out.”

  “Don’t speak to me like that. I won’t have it.” Teddy’s face was red with anger, and he spat out the words. “You were my wife, Beret. You have no right.”

  “Thank God, I am no longer your wife, and yes, I have every right. I’m not afraid of you, Teddy. Your words won’t hurt me.”

  “Then this will.” Teddy took a step forward and raised his walking stick, while Beret stared at him in surprise as much as horror as she wondered what she had unleashed. But she would not be silent, and with no regard for the consequences, she blurted out, “Is this how it was with Lillie? Were you so angry t
hat she wouldn’t give you money that you grabbed the scissors and stabbed her?”

  Teddy froze, then slowly turned to look at the uplifted stick and lowered it. “I did not kill Lillie. I have told you over and over,” he said softly. “You have no proof of it.” He straightened the lapels of his coat and turned, but before he took a step toward the door, he said, “Think about my proposition. Don’t cross me, Beret.” He went out then, leaving his former wife staring out the open door into the storm.

  Chapter 20

  Beret returned to her room and dressed, then went downstairs, roaming from one room to another, at last going into the kitchen where she fixed bread and butter and a little fruit for herself. She would have liked to eat in the morning room, but the cold came through the window glass. So instead, she went into the dining room and pulled out a chair. She set down her plate and napkin and silverware and seated herself along the side of the table. Even eating by herself with no one else in the house, she would not be so presumptuous as to take her aunt or uncle’s place.

  The day was gray and forbidding and she was glad she had the afternoon outing with Mick to look forward to, although she wasn’t sure after the confrontation with Teddy that she would be good company. Perhaps she should tell Mick what had transpired. But he would want her to refuse to pay Teddy, and Beret wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. After all, Teddy had been right when he’d said her patrons, some of them anyway, might disappear if the scandal were made public.

  Beret was restless and as the cook stove had been cold and she had not wanted to build a fire, she had no coffee to linger over. She returned to the kitchen, and not wanting to make the servants clean up after her, she washed the plate and silver and put them away. Then she wandered around the house. The drawing room was dark and uninviting, and the library with its dead fire was cold. So she went back to her room, intending to read a book. She did not want to think about her sister’s murder. She had done too much of that already.

  As she picked up a book from her dresser, Beret spotted the pearl earrings she’d borrowed for the Deckers’ dinner party and decided to return them to her aunt’s room. She walked down the corridor, knocking on the door in case her aunt had stayed behind. There was no answer, so she entered the bedroom, thinking to leave the jewelry on the bedside table. But the top of the table was cluttered with scarves and gloves, a book, a magnifying glass, and various odds and ends, and Beret was afraid the earrings would get lost. She started to return to her own room but then remembered that her aunt kept her jewelry in a casket in the dressing room. Varina had told Beret that she ought to have a safe built into the wall for her diamonds, but she trusted the servants and had not done so.

  Varina had half a dozen jewelry caskets lined up on a shelf beside her dressing table, small glass boxes on gilt legs, lined with quilted satin in jewellike tones. Each displayed a piece of jewelry, and Beret thought her aunt must like to admire these adornments as she sat at the dressing table, brushing her hair.

  Beret opened a large leather casket fitted with drawers and slots for rings and necklaces, brooches and earrings, and found a space for the pearls. She spotted a ring with a diamond the size of her fingernail, its color like butter, and removed it to admire it. Her aunt’s taste in jewelry was as exquisite as her taste in decorating.

  She was snooping, Beret realized, and because that was not her nature, she started to close the box, but her eyes settled on the tip of an earring that had caught in one of the casket’s drawers, preventing it from closing. She opened the little drawer so that she could place it properly, then gasped, leaning forward to see inside the box. She recognized the earring at once and wanted to slam shut the drawer, close up the jewelry box, flee from the room. But she could not.

  Slowly Beret pulled the little drawer out of the box. Resting on its red velvet interior were Lillie’s earrings, the earrings that had belonged to their mother, the ones Miss Hettie had described to Mick. She took them out and held them in the palm of one hand, then closed her hand around them, feeling the sharp points of the stones, squeezing until her hand hurt, trying to understand.

  They were a copy. That was it. Her aunt had had the pair made exactly like Marta’s. Or maybe there had been two pairs. Of course. Just to be sure, Beret took the earrings to Varina’s bedside table and picked up the magnifying glass. One of Lillie’s earrings had lost a diamond, and Beret had had it replaced with a stone that didn’t quite match the others. Varina’s earrings would be perfect. Beret held the first earring to the light and was relieved that she did not see an imperfection. She picked up the second and peered at it under the glass. The diamond in one of the leaves was brighter than the rest and there was a nick in the gold beside it. Beret remembered the nick. Lillie had made it when she dropped the earring on a marble floor.

  Stunned, Beret sat down on the bed in her aunt and uncle’s great bedroom, which was gloomy even with the lights turned on, and shivered. A fear such as she had never known came over her as she thought of being alone in that dark house where something was terribly wrong. Beret looked at the earbob under the magnifying glass again, hoping she had been mistaken, but both the off-color diamond and the nick were there. The earrings were Lillie’s.

  Surely, Varina would have known that. She would have put them there herself. How had her aunt acquired them? Beret wondered as she went to the French doors and looked out. She couldn’t see the stable. The rain made it difficult to see anything. She heard a noise downstairs and was startled, thinking her aunt and uncle had returned, although she hadn’t heard a carriage. Had Teddy come back? Or maybe it was an intruder. More likely, one of the servants had returned.

  Beret heard a door close and then footsteps on the staircase. She drew back inside the dressing room, fearful. The house was suddenly a sinister place. She did not care to be in that bedroom, and she especially did not want whoever was out there to be her aunt or uncle.

  Then the footsteps entered the room. Varina! Beret thought and felt herself panic.

  “Oh, ma’am, you startled me. I didn’t know nobody was here,” Nellie said.

  Beret gave a sigh of relief. “You scared me, Nellie. I’d thought the house was empty. I guess I’m jumpy after everything that’s happened. My aunt loaned me her pearl earrings. I was returning them.”

  “I’ll see to them if you’ll give them here.”

  “I already put them away, although I’m not sure they’re in the right place. Would you be good enough to check for me?” She held the hand with the diamond earrings behind her back and watched as Nellie went to the dressing table. “I put them in the large box.”

  “Oh, that’s just for diamonds. The pearls go here. Mrs. Stanton’s real particular about where her pretties go.” Nellie removed the earrings and placed them inside a casket with a pearl necklace.

  “She has beautiful jewelry. I was admiring her diamonds.”

  “Ain’t they fine? She looks like the queen of England all decked out in them. There’s nothing nicer, and between me and you, she looks a sight better than Mrs. Summers with her big old pearls the size of onions. Judge Stanton, he give his wife a yellow diamond ring as bright as a canary. That wasn’t very long ago. I wouldn’t know what it cost, but it must have been a lot, because the judge says she ought to keep it in a bank vault. But Mrs. Stanton, she says how could she wear it if she did that?”

  Nellie chattered on, although Beret paid little attention to what she said. She felt more comfortable knowing the girl was in the house, although that did not relieve her of the uncertainty she felt. Nellie paused, and Beret realized she had asked her a question. “What’s that?”

  “I said do you like diamonds yourself, ma’am?”

  Beret shook her head. “I’m not much for adornment.”

  “Miss Lillie did. She was all the time asking if she could borrow from Mrs. Stanton, asked me to get her a diamond pin that she fancied, but I wouldn’t do it.” She cocked her head and looked at Beret for a moment, as if deciding whether to
go on. “Two of Mrs. Stanton’s diamond pieces are gone, that pin and a ring. Mrs. Stanton asked me if I put them in the wrong place. I looked all over, but I couldn’t find them.”

  “Surely she didn’t believe you took them.”

  “Oh no, ma’am. Not me, no. But Miss Lillie? She wasn’t so sure about Miss Lillie. I searched her room, but I couldn’t find them, so maybe she didn’t take them after all. They must have got lost. I told Mrs. Stanton the fastener on the pin didn’t work right.”

  Beret remembered the two pieces she had found hidden, one in Lillie’s dress and the other in her glove. She had removed them before the dressmaker came, and wrapped them in a handkerchief that she hid among her stockings. Beret would have to return them to her aunt, now that she knew their rightful owner.

  Nellie went back downstairs, and Beret returned to her room, placing the earrings in a tiny pocket in her purse. As she closed the purse, she discovered the book of poems with Evan Summers’s note inside and thought her purse was not a very good repository for evidence of a murder. She would have to find a better place. But if she put the items in the bureau, Nellie was likely to come across them. In fact, Beret was surprised that the girl hadn’t found the jewelry Lillie had hidden.

  Beret would seal them in an envelope with her name on it. That was it. No one would open a sealed envelope. She’d keep them safe until she decided what to do with them—tell her aunt and uncle, or give them to Mick. The note and earrings in hand, she crept down the stairs and went into the library and opened the drawer of the desk where her aunt kept her writing paper. She took out an envelope and slipped the note and earrings inside, then looked about for the sealing wax. The envelope was a perfect fit, she thought, and then stopped and slowly withdrew the note. The note and the envelope matched. Both were made from a heavy, expensive paper. Well, that could be explained. The Stantons and the Summerses frequented the same stationer.