A Golden Cage (17 page)

Vlady gave Joe an appraising look. “How long since you've been on the court, Ballard?”

“A while. Why? Am I out of fashion?”

Deanna thought he looked wonderful in his white flannels. Like the old Joe before he forsook society and went to live with his machines. Actually, all three of them were very handsome and she knew she'd be the envy of every young lady at the Casino today, if any of them bothered to stop gossiping long enough to look out to the courts.

But Deanna didn't care. She was going to play tennis. Really play.

“I'll take Joe,” Vlady said. He winked at Deanna. “That way I can keep my eyes on the lovely Deanna.”

“And while you do,” Herbert said, “Dee and I will trounce you with our superb tennis skills and haute couture.” He sketched a bow and ushered Deanna to the near side of the court.

Herbert had improved his game since the last time Deanna had seen him on the court. And they held their own against Vlady and Joe, who was a little rusty. They each took a set and decided to adjourn for luncheon.

*   *   *

J
oe took the towel from the attendant and dried his face. He was sweating. He wasn't getting the kind of exercise that a man got from sports anymore. He'd feel it tomorrow. He'd
almost forgotten how life used to be. To be awakened with a tray of hot coffee. Breakfast made daily and kept warm, tennis at the Casino, luncheon in a restaurant, not at the pub or the food wagon. It was seductive.

Though he could do without dressing for luncheon after a game of tennis. And it was time he got to the reason for so readily agreeing to accompany Dee today. He planned to question Vlady and Herbert, who had both been at the yacht the night Charlie died.

Will was loath to do it, since they'd already gone through questioning before this summer, and he didn't want to push his luck. The cottagers tolerated him because he was well bred and well educated, but they wouldn't tolerate him for long if he kept “harassing” them.

That fell to Joe. “How late did you two stay at Mersey's the other night?” he asked nonchalantly.

Vlad tossed a towel in the bin. “Lord, I don't know. I think I staggered home sometime around four. You, Herbert?”

“'Bout the same, I guess. It was loud and noisy and reeked of tobacco. Ended up talking to Erik Dolan and a couple of fellows out on deck for an hour or so, then I went home.”

“We heard you ended up with the body of one of the actors on your parlor floor,” Vlady said.

“Conservatory,” Joe corrected. “I don't guess either of you saw him that night at the yacht.”

Vlad and Herbert looked at each other.

Herbert shook his head. “Wouldn't recognize him if I saw him.”

“Nor I,” Vlad said, slipping into his jacket. “Besides, I wasn't looking for guys.”

“Though I might have seen her,” Herbert added.

“Amabelle Deeks?”

“Yes, not that I know her, either. Like I said, I was standing on deck when this young woman runs by. Someone yelled, ‘bell.' She stopped and turned around, at which point I realized it might be her name rather than some nautical term. But then she ran down the gangplank, and that's the last I saw of her.” He folded his jacket collar over and straightened his tie.

“No fights breaking out at all?”

“Hey,” Vlad said, pulling a comb through his hair before tossing it into the waste bin. “We're civilized men.”

Joe snagged his jacket off a hook, and the three of them went to join Deanna and Gwen.

“Sorry we couldn't be of more help,” Herbert said. “Do you think that actor followed her to Bonheur?”

Joe shrugged. “Or someone followed them both. I don't suppose you noticed that, either?”

“No, sorry,” Herbert said as they started down the corridor to the restaurant.

“Well, here's someone who might know,” Vlad said. “Mersey. What ho?”

Jacob Mersey had just rounded the corner and came to a stop.

“Great party the other night,” Vlady said.

“I aim to please,” Mersey said.

“What brings you to the Casino today? I thought you and Dolan were heading to Saratoga for the races.”

“Meant to. But I decided to spend a couple more days here. Nice little piece I'd like to enjoy for the moment. If you catch my meaning.”

The three nodded. It didn't take much imagination. Mersey was notorious for high living and questionable women.

“I heard you had a bit of excitement at your place, Ballard. Hope it didn't have anything to do with you. Is that why you were looking for a little blonde the next day?”

“One of the actresses' mother is a friend of my mother's. I was staying at the warehouse as usual, but evidently she came during the night, was gone the next morning, having left us a body in the conservatory.”

Mersey laughed. “Sorry, old thing, but really. Ah, there's the Casino's manager. I must run. I'm here to persuade him to open the stage for the troupe to rehearse while they await their fate.”

“Didn't know you were interested in theater,” Joe said.

“I'm not. I'm interested in the lovely Talia. Coryphée extraordinaire and limber as an acrobat. Later.” He saluted them and hurried after the manager.

Well, at least they would have a place to rehearse, Joe thought as they sat down to luncheon. Maybe Talia could use her acrobatic talents to persuade Mersey to pay some wages.

*   *   *

D
eanna had a wonderful time, and the luncheon Gran Gwen ordered was superb, but she noticed Joe was rather quiet, and that was disturbing. Did he resent being kept away from his work, even for a morning? One more thing for him to be mad at her for.

After lunch, they left Vlad and Herbert at the door of the Casino and drove south on Bellevue Avenue, then past Jones Street, where old Mrs. Deeks lived her lonely life. Deanna expected that they would let Joe off at the warehouse, but the carriage didn't slow down, and he accompanied them all the way to Bonheur.

“Well, I suppose we'll have to do the grand drive today,” Gran Gwen said. “We don't want the town to forget that Deanna is here. But first I must have a nap.”

But when they reached Bonheur, Carlisle informed them that Will was waiting for them in the conservatory.

They found him kneeling down at the place where they'd found Charlie's body.

He stood immediately. “Sorry if I overstep.”

“Not at all, Will. Do you have news?”

“Not much and none of it good, I'm afraid. I really came to speak to Joe.”

Gran Gwen raised an imperious eyebrow.

“And you, of course, if you wouldn't be put off by the subject.” He glanced at Deanna.

“I'm sure that Deanna and I can handle it. Shall I call for my vinaigrette?”

Will smiled sheepishly. “I don't think that will be necessary.”

“Then please sit down.”

They all sat, and it felt to Deanna that things seemed almost normal again. The feeling didn't last for long.

“Walter Edgerton was down at the police station again today, demanding we make an arrest. He doesn't really care who as long as it gets done. His wife and mother-in-law are nagging—you didn't hear it from me. Though I do feel for him, poor fellow. And the Judge will return tonight or tomorrow and expects action. He seems to be taking this personally—not the birthday present he'd hoped for.”

“Well,” Gwen said, “I don't know why he should complain; the man wasn't found in his conservatory. But that's how these big reformers are. See everything as a slight to themselves.”

“I was called in to the chief after he left. He's given me an ultimatum: either find someone to arrest or they're taking me off the case.”

“What? They can't do that,” Deanna said.

“Unfortunately, they can,” Gwen said. “The pressure the cottagers wield is formidable. A word in the right ear, and he'll be dismissed.”

“Which means,” Joe said, “they're planning on arresting someone who is not a cottager. One of the actors or the crew that came with them,” he added, almost to himself.

“Or one of the local lads who hired on,” Will said. “A windfall of money one minute, and the next, you get carted off to jail for life. Or hung.”

“Will, this is not the time to get bitter,” Gran Gwen said. “You simply must find the killer.”

Will sighed. “That's why I came out. To look over the scene again, see if there is anything I could have missed. And that cursed girl still hasn't shown up.” He rubbed his temples. “I'm stuck for a motive and for a suspect.”

Deanna looked at Gran Gwen. Sent her a silent message asking whether they should reveal that Laurette's earrings had gone missing.

Whether she got the message or not, Gwen said, “There's something you should know.”

Will closed his eyes. “What is it?”

“We believe the Deeks girl stole Laurette's diamond earrings.”

“What? Why didn't you tell me?”

“We only found out yesterday, and Laurette felt torn because Amabelle's mother is a very old and close friend. That's why she went to New York. To consult with Rosalie Deeks. So perhaps a falling-out of thieves?”

“Perhaps,” Will said. He looked at Gwen, then to Deanna.

“I'm not leaving.”

“Actually, I was wondering if it's acceptable to Gran Gwen for you to go over what Miss Deeks said to you the night of the murder. I realize it's been several days, but maybe you've remembered something else since then.”

“I remember it. I wrote it down. Elspeth and I have been comparing notes.”

Will took out his notebook; his pencil stub looked much smaller. He must have been taking lots of notes. “Okay, just begin again and tell me everything you can remember.”

Deanna thought back. Told him how at first Amabelle was timid and frightened, then how she gradually relaxed. “First we discussed our favorite lady detectives in the serials. Then we talked about the theater and being an actress. She wasn't very effusive. She said it was hard work. Actually, it sounded like she didn't much care about acting.

“And I said it must pay well, and she said only for the stars, that the chorus didn't make good money. Then I said she must meet interesting people and . . . handsome men. And she said some handsome, and some not at all.

“Then she kind of got upset again.”

“Upset?”

“More like agitated.” Deanna paused, trying to remember if there was anything else. “I asked her about her home, and she said she could never go back there.”

“Interesting.”

“What is? That she won't go home again? Her mother sounds as strict as mine.”

Will frowned. “She said she couldn't go home?”

“Yes, then she said she wouldn't. That's right. She couldn't
and she wouldn't. Why? And don't say you're not at liberty to tell.”

Will wrestled with a smile. “I'm not. But I will anyway, since it will all soon be out of my hands. We interviewed her colleagues. She lives with two of the girls in the chorus. But they say she hardly stays there. She tells them she's staying ‘at home.' They think she's lording it over them. Or possibly . . .”

Deanna waited. When it was clear he wasn't going to say more, she said it for him. “Someone is keeping her.”

“Dee,” Joe said.

“Joe,” she mimicked.

“You two, don't begin this nonsense,” Gwen warned.

“Yes, Dee. She's most likely being kept. I don't suppose she mentioned any names?”

Dee shook her head. “And I don't think Charlie made enough money to support her, do you?”

“No, I'm almost certain he didn't.”

“Well, maybe she's gone there, to her . . . you know.”

“Except we don't know where or who or if it's even true. She may be going home, but it's out of my jurisdiction. Hopefully Mrs. Ballard will be able to shed some light on the situation when she returns. Anything else?”

Deanna thought back. “That's all. I told her we would help her, and she said no one could help her. Then Elspeth took her down the hall to the guest room.

“That's the last I saw of her.”

“So sometime during the night,” Will said, “she managed to steal the earrings. Then she must have gone downstairs to pass the earrings off to Withrop, but why didn't she just go with him?”

“She didn't have any clothes except that gown and cape,” Deanna said.

“She stole the earrings while my parents were in the next room,” Joe said. “Surely she could have managed a dress or two.”

“Or there is a third person,” Will said. “Someone who was part of the plan or who took advantage of the situation. It keeps coming back to the acting company. Who better to overhear the two of them making plans involving Bonheur than another actor who decided to go along for the ride?”

“Does that mean you think Amabelle is dead, too?” Deanna asked.

“Dead or with the third person.”

“A prisoner?”

“Or she went willingly.”

“Or she killed Charlie herself, panicked, and ran.” Joe crossed his arms.

“No.” Deanna crossed hers. “She couldn't have.” Getting no response, she continued. “Because I think somebody killed him outside and dragged his body into the conservatory. Maybe so she would find him.”

“And you think this because . . .” Will held his pencil at the ready.

He was taking her seriously. “Because he had dirt and grass on the heels of his shoes and stains on his trousers, like he'd been dragged.”

Will broke into an appreciative grin. “That's exactly what I think happened, too.”

Deanna heard a low growl. She was pretty sure it was coming from Joe. She turned on him. “You think so, too. I saw you out looking in the grass after I left.”

Will let out a laugh. “Not much gets past our Dee.”