A Golden Cage (24 page)

“Strutting about in all sorts of costumes, eating dinner in public restaurants at all hours, walking in the street alone at night; just a step above a professional streetwalker.”

“Noreen said they aren't like that. That most are just hardworking people like everyone else. And Noreen certainly isn't like that. Is she?”

“She goes gallivanting around the country and leaves her baby with her mother? Does that sound natural to you?”

“I think it sounds like a necessity of her trade. Besides, they should have been home by now. If Will could just find the killer.” Deanna reached for her sketching notebook. “Though I suppose I'm the one—what do they call it?—obstructing the investigation.”

She turned the page to the sketch she made of Charlie, lying beneath the palm trees on the marble floor of the conservatory. She'd drawn it just as she had seen it, though she had to admit she left the broken skull a little vague. She even added the clods of dirt and grass on the heels of his shoes.

Her art teacher had told her mother that she had talent and she should send her to Paris to study. Her mother had nixed that, and her teacher had never mentioned it again. But Deanna knew she could reproduce images even after they were gone.

“Belle said she had planned to meet Charlie outside with
whatever she could steal. She went out but he didn't come.” She turned the page and quickly sketched a girl standing on the grass.

“Where was he? Was he really late or had he decided not to come at all? No, that doesn't work. He was found in the house. Was he waiting in the trees—afraid to come out?”

She quickly sketched a standing male figure, drew a sweeping line for a tree, and hurriedly shaded the insides so that it hid most of the figure. “Why wouldn't he come out?”

“Chicken?” Elspeth guessed. She finished pulling the pins out of Deanna's hair and placed them in the pin case on the table. She picked up the silver-backed brush and began to brush out the carefully curled tresses.

“Maybe. Maybe he saw someone moving about in the house and decided it was too dangerous. But why not get her attention and have her come to him?
Psst, Belle, over here!
” Deanna said in an urgent whisper. “Why didn't he go to her?”

“I don't know.”

“Will said that the theory is, someone dragged him across the lawn to the conservatory. Charlie is a pretty tall guy. Belle wouldn't be able to drag him across the lawn, over the stone patio, and into the conservatory.

“There must have been another person there.” She flipped back to the sketch she'd just made, and added a shadowy figure on the other side of the page. “Maybe he couldn't go to her or get her to come to him because he knew he was being watched.”

Elspeth sat down and tapped the brush to her chin. “Could have been that Rollie fella they already got in jail.”

“But that's only because of the anonymous note. They don't have any proof.”

“That we know of,” Elspeth said.

Deanna gave her an exasperated look. “Besides, Rollie's half the size of Charlie. If you're going to kill somebody, why not do it in a convenient spot where it's easy to get rid of the body? Not drag it into someone's house and carefully arrange it on the floor of their conservatory. Why would someone do that?”

Elspeth shook her head. “Just plain crazy, I guess.” She put the brush away and began braiding Deanna's hair.

“Maybe to leave a message.”

“What kind of message, miss?”

“Something the killer left for Belle to see. But why?”

“If you ask me, that's specu—just plain guessing.”

“Seems like that's all we have.” Deanna picked up the copy of Loveday Brooke, put it down again. “I know one thing. First thing tomorrow we're going to convince Belle to give herself up.”

*   *   *

I
n spite of her resolution, Deanna spent a restless night. Her conscience was bothering her. She knew she was wrong not to confide in Will, and around daybreak her guilt turned into fear as her imagination took off, and she wondered if Belle was in danger or if she would be dead by the time Deanna got to her.

She could hardly wait to make it through breakfast so she could return to the Deeks house and tell Belle her time was up, that she was going to the police to tell them where she was.

But she knew things would not go as planned the moment she stepped into the breakfast room and found Laurette and her husband sitting at the table. Laurette was explaining something to Gwen, but she broke off when Deanna entered the room.

Deanna forced a smile. “I didn't think to see you before tomorrow.”

“We just got off the ferry. I couldn't wait another minute to come home. I made Lionel come with me for a long weekend. I had to bribe him.” She looked mischievously at her husband, who merely lifted his eyebrows and drank his coffee.

“And, by the way, thank you for . . .” Laurette lifted Gran Gwen's handkerchief holding the diamond earrings, just enough for Deanna to see them.

“Mama says we had to wait for you before we discussed this ghastly situation. Joe was here but his head is filled with cogs and electricity this morning. We sent him to work.”

Well, that was one good thing, Deanna thought philosophically. At least she wouldn't have Joe glowering across the table at her and demanding she tell him where Belle was hiding. Still, she was anxious to get away.

“Any news to report?”

Deanna looked at Gwen.

“Things are progressing slowly,” Gwen said.

“I heard that from the Judge himself.”

“Oh?” Gwen put down her fork. “When did you see him?”

“As luck would have it, he was on the same ferry as us. He evidently had meant to return the day before, but work interfered and he ended up with us.”

“Again,” added her husband.

“Poor Lionel was forced to endure two ferry rides in one week with him. But we couldn't very well cut him.”

“We read about his sentence in the newspaper,” Gwen said. “Imprisonment for a poor half-wit. He didn't hurt anyone.”

“So the defense lawyer said, according to the Judge. But
the jury brought back a guilty verdict and he had no choice but to abide by it, also according to the Judge.”

“With twelve years' imprisonment or the insane asylum,” Gwen said. “That's criminal.”

Deanna forced bits of her breakfast down. She felt bad for the poor man, but wanted to get started. Unfortunately, she had already committed too many sins against etiquette as it was, to be rude this morning.

“If you ask me,” Lionel said, “these reformists push their zeal into a kind of perversion.”

“The Judge is bad enough, but that son-in-law . . .” Gwen said.

“Well, Edgerton knows what side his bread is buttered on. Though I'm not sure he practices all he preaches. But it's a difficult position, hanging on to someone else's coattails. So much so that he comes across as being even more moralistic than Grantham.”

“Well,” said Laurette, “I did find out something that probably has no bearing on the murder, but it does help explain the bad feelings between Rosalie and her daughter.”

“Because she became an actress,” Deanna said.

“Not at all. It's because she was not content to work hard and live within her means as an actress. Miss Amabelle Deeks took a lover and evidently a fairly rich one.”

“Charlie?” Deanna said. “He can't be making that much more than she is.”

“Well, it could be, I suppose, if he also happens to be independently wealthy. Whoever it is has set her up in an apartment on Fifth Avenue. It isn't public knowledge. Rosalie is mortified, of course. Her husband was furious. Is that any help to your investigation, Dee?”

“Mine? I'm not—” But she was.

“Well, someone should. We had a late supper with the Judge last night on the ferry. He is not happy with the way things are going. He's planning on going to the chief of police today and . . .” She lowered her voice. “He wants that girl found.

“He feels it besmirches his character to have his name associated with murder. And when I pointed out to him the murder actually took place at Bonheur, he had the gall to say, ‘Thank God.'

“I told him we would call on Maude and Drusilla this morning, Mama. I hope you don't mind, but he's going to be putting a flea in the police department's ear all morning. And he's worried about her nerves.”

Gwen snorted and put her napkin down. “Deanna and I had plans this morning. But perhaps we should divide and conquer.”

Deanna frowned but said, “Certainly.”

“I'm going to the reading room,” Lionel announced, “where I will be the only one actually reading the papers, since I didn't get to read for the last two days because someone got to them before I did and made a complete mess of them.” He smiled at his wife. “And where I won't be bothered until I come home in time for tea, a brief nap with my wife before dinner, and the Rensselaer ball.”

Deanna had forgotten the ball. And she was already as tired as a post. If she wanted to get a nap in before dressing tonight, she'd better get a move on.

“I have a few errands I have to run,” she said, looking directly at Gran Gwen.

Gwen didn't miss a beat. “Then take Elspeth with you. I'll have Carlisle bring the carriage around.”

Deanna had wanted to take her bicycle because it was easier, faster, and she didn't have to worry about what the driver might think, but she needed Elspeth.

“I've been thinking about teaching Elspeth to ride a bicycle,” Deanna said as she got up from the table. “Do you think that would be too avant-garde?”

“Certainly not,” Laurette said. “Just think how much freedom you would have, and you could take your maid as chaperone. You could set a new trend.”

“And send her mother into a spasm,” Gwen reminded them.

“Exactly,” Laurette said, and took a bite of toast.

B
y the time the carriage came for Deanna and Elspeth twenty minutes later, Deanna was wild with worry. She dismissed the coachman at the corner of Mrs. Deeks's street, though he tried to convince her to let him wait at the door.

They compromised by promising to meet him back at the corner in a half an hour.

They strolled down the opposite side of the street with Elspeth carrying a large shopping bag with a change of clothes from Deanna's wardrobe, some bread and cheese, and an old copy of
Beadle's
.

Elspeth kept reminding Deanna to look like a lady out taking the air, until Deanna wanted to pinch her. But finally they passed the house. A quick look around to make sure no one was about, and they quickly crossed the street and ducked past the shrubbery to the kitchen door.

Elspeth peered in the window next to the door and shook
her head. She turned the doorknob and the door wouldn't open. They walked around to the back, but the windows were too high to see in. Fortunately a milk box was sitting on the back stoop. Elspeth and Deanna dragged it over to the window.

They both straightened up and looked at each other across the milk box.

“Maybe it took two people to drag poor Charlie to the conservatory,” Deanna said.

“That's what I was thinking.” Elspeth climbed on the box, cupped her hands, and looked in. Jumped down and shook her head. “I don't see anybody. What if Lilbeth isn't here?”

“We have to get in that attic. I can't stand it any longer. I'm already in so much trouble.”

Elspeth nodded and climbed back onto the milk box. She pushed at the window but it didn't budge; jumped down, and they dragged the box back to the porch.

“Now what?” Elspeth asked.

“I'm thinking.”

“Well, think fast.”

“We'll have to knock on the front door and hope she lets us in.”

“And say what?
Sorry, but we need to search your attic for your niece, who we think might be a murderer?
It'd give the old girl a heart attack.”

“No, I'll say I've come for a visit, and while I'm distracting her, you sneak past me and unlock the kitchen door. I'll meet you there as soon as I can get away.”

“Oh, miss, you might give
me
the heart attack.”

They walked around to the front door.

And froze when a carriage rattled past.

Elspeth tugged at Deanna's elbow. “Act natural.”

Deanna nodded. They were virtually breaking into someone's house to abet a wanted person, and she was supposed to act natural. The mind boggled. “Let's get this over with.”

She walked up the steps, motioned Elspeth to stand to the side out of sight, then rang the bell.

She was greeted with total silence. She tried again.

“Maybe it's broken,” Elspeth said.

“It worked the other day.” The door opened a crack. Mrs. Deeks's wrinkled face peered out at Deanna.

“What do you want?” She squinted her eyes in an effort to see better.

“I came to visit with you. I was here a few days ago with Gwendolyn Manon.”

“Aha, the people looking for the little harlot.”

Deanna bit her tongue. “Yes.”

“Well, I haven't seen her.”

“Well, I just came to visit. I thought you might like some company.”

“Can't give you tea, the girl isn't here. Can't depend on servants these days, always taking off when you need 'em.”

Deanna thought if Mrs. Deeks were a little nicer her servants might stay longer, but she didn't say so.

“You can come in and get my tin of cookies out. I can't manage the latch. Then you can take yourself off.”

“I'd be happy to.” Deanna glanced at Elspeth, who nodded, and Deanna stepped inside.

“Be sure to shut the door.”

“I will. You just have a seat and I'll get your cookies.” She slowly started to close the door while the old lady made her way into the parlor.

Deanna stuck her hand out and motioned to Elspeth, who slipped through the door. Deanna put a finger to her lips.

Elspeth gave her a look and melted into the shadows.

Deanna joined Mrs. Deeks in the parlor, took the cookies out of the cupboard, and lifted the lid.

She grabbed two greedily. “Do you know how to make tea?”

“Why no,” Deanna said. She'd never been called on to make tea before.

“You girls, what do I hire you for?”

“I'm not your servant, Mrs. Deeks. I came for a visit.”

“Well, I don't want any visitors. Take yourself off.”

Thank you.
Deanna could hardly hide her impatience to leave, though she doubted Mrs. Deeks could see that.

“But I'll keep the cookies.” The old woman wrapped her arm around the tin.

“Well, do enjoy them. I'll see myself out. Good day.” Deanna was sure she looked like a jack-in-the-box, popping up and down in a curtsey as she hurried to the door before Mrs. Deeks changed her mind.

A minute later she was at the back door. Elspeth let her in. “Hurry,” Deanna said. “She's eating cookies, but she might decide to make a cup of tea. She asked me if I knew how.”

“Ha,” Elspeth said, remembering to whisper.

“You can show me later—let's go.” Deanna led the way, peeking around the door to make sure no Mrs. Deeks awaited them in the hall. They silently sped to the back of the house and up the servants' staircase. Deanna was out of breath by the time they reached the attic door. She knocked. “Amabelle, it's Deanna.”

Amabelle didn't come to the door.

“Belle, let me in.”

Still no answer. Deanna turned the knob. Elspeth's smaller hand closed over the top of hers. “I'd better go in first, miss.”

“Nonsense, she isn't dangerous.” Deanna started to enter, but stopped. “But thank you, Elspeth.” She stepped inside with Elspeth on her heels.

The attic was empty. Of people, anyway. The boxes and trunks stood mutely around the room, the pallet Belle had made for herself was gone, the table where Deanna had found the earrings was pushed back under the eave. The window was closed. There was no sign of anyone having been there.

“She's gone,” Deanna said.

“Are you sure? Maybe she's exploring the house—she must be that bored—or using the facilities.”

Deanna shook her head. “She had it fixed up like a sitting room, and she's put everything back.”

“Do you think the coppers got her?”

“Maybe. But wouldn't Mrs. Deeks have said something if they descended on her house and dragged her grand-niece out to the police wagon?”

“I don't know. She thought you were the maid.” Elspeth was obviously trying to hide a grin.

“Go on and laugh, but you're teaching me to make tea when this is all over. I never thought about it before, but I can't cook a thing. All those lessons in deportment and French and Italian and music and painting; the closest they come to telling you how to live is how to plan menus and give orders to the cook.”

“Miss Deanna, could you please stop philo-philosophizing and take care of the problem at hand?”

“Sorry. Let's see. She must have left of her own will. If the police took her, they wouldn't have bothered to clean the room.
She didn't want anyone to know that she'd been here.” Deanna looked around the room as if the answer lay in the dusty castoffs.

It didn't.

“Let's get out of here. I'll think better when I'm not petrified of getting caught.”

“Good idea,” Elspeth said. “And this time I will lead the way. I'm much better at sneaking around than you. And not because I sneak around on you. It's from playing with my brothers and sisters.”

Elspeth marched across the floor and out the door, down the stairs. Deanna stopped only long enough to close the door, then followed closely behind her. Elspeth stopped at the second floor, listened. Motioned for Deanna to follow.

They were just reaching the first floor and were moving quickly but quietly toward the kitchen, when there was a banging at the front door. Both girls froze, then Elspeth yanked Deanna into the butler's pantry. She put her fingers to her lips, pointed to the floor. She wanted Deanna to stay put. Deanna nodded.

Elspeth peered around the kitchen door, looked both ways, then hurried across the room to stand on tiptoe and look out the window. She made a frantic motion for Deanna to come. By the time Deanna reached her, she had the back door open and was looking back and forth. Then she pulled Deanna out the door, pausing only long enough to close it, and they sprinted across the lawn to the safety of the shrubbery.

They watched from the bushes, eyes and ears alert. It was the police. They had found out about Mrs. Deeks. And they were too late.

“Do you see Will Hennessey?” Deanna asked, craning her neck around the bushes.

“No. What are we going to do? They might arrest us.”

Deanna thought they might, too. She was in such hot water. “We have to get farther away,” Deanna said. She looked around. “Maybe we can cut through to the next street.”

“Somebody will see us and have us arrested for trespassing,” Elspeth said.

“Do you have a better idea?”

“No.”

They moved along the shrubbery until they got to the next property line. One of the houses was fenced in by a wrought-iron railing, the other was open.

“Act like we belong here,” Deanna said.

She walked ahead, Elspeth a couple of paces behind her, at a slow stroll. It was the hardest thing Deanna could remember doing.

They managed to reach the far street without mishap.

“If anyone stops us now, it will be their word against ours.” Deanna grabbed Elspeth's elbow and they hurried to the corner, hoping that the carriage would be nearby.

“There it is. Bless Jasper, he deserves a medal.”

“He'd probably rather have a big tip,” Elspeth huffed, following after her.

“Which he shall get,” Deanna said. She stopped below the coachman. “Jasper, I have a few errands to run. Do you know if they were planning to use the carriage this afternoon?”

“I don't know, miss. But I'm sure they wouldn't mind you doing your errands. There are other carriages.”

“Thank you. Next stop is the Ocean Hotel.”

Jasper's eyes widened slightly at that, but he merely said, “Yes, miss.”

They arrived at the hotel a few minutes later only to be told
that Noreen Adams was out, in fact all the actors were out. And they would be checking out the next day.

“They're leaving?” Deanna asked the concierge.

“Yes, miss.”

“Thank you.”

“You might check at the Casino, miss. That's where they've been rehearsing.”

“I will.” She hurried down the hotel steps, Elspeth right behind. “The Casino, please, Jasper. We've not a minute to spare.”

“Why are we in such a rush, miss?” Elspeth asked, holding on to the edge of the carriage as it sped away.

“If they're really leaving tomorrow, it can only mean one of two things: That they've cleared Rollie's name and have another suspect in custody. Or they're leaving Rollie as the scapegoat.”

“Do you think the police found Miss Belle?”

“No, I don't, but it's time she stops hiding and tells them what she knows.”

It took eons before Jasper pulled up in front of the Casino.

“We may be a while.”

“Yes, miss.”

Deanna went straight to the entrance of the theater. When she tried the door she was surprised to find it unlocked. She and Elspeth slipped inside, careful not to make a sound. Crossed the foyer and slipped into the auditorium. The houselights were lit, but no one seemed to notice when they sat in the back row.

“It's beautiful, miss.”

“You've never been?”

Elspeth shook her head.

Deanna looked around, trying to see it through Elspeth's
eyes, and it was impressive, all gilt-edged ivory with a sky blue ceiling dotted with gold stars.

But today she had no use for the theater's magic. She had to find Amabelle Deeks and turn her in to Will.

The actors were onstage, but wearing their normal clothes. A piano had been pulled off to the side, and a man was accompanying a trio of singers in what Deanna recognized as “Three Little Maids from School.”

They must be presenting Gilbert and Sullivan when they returned to New York.
Tomorrow
, she thought. Had Belle returned to the fold? Were they hiding her now?

Edwin Stevens stood at the front of the stage, moving the members of the trio around like pawns on a chessboard. One of the singers was Talia, but Deanna didn't see Noreen anywhere.

She looked around the audience. Several of the actors were sitting in the first rows, watching the rehearsal. Deanna perused the backs of their heads and decided Noreen wasn't among them.

She might be backstage, but Deanna wasn't even sure how one found the backstage. The door opened behind them, and she turned to see Jacob Mersey come in and stand at the head of the aisle.

Elspeth tugged at Deanna's sleeve. “Who is that?”

“The man who owns the yacht where the party was held. The one Belle escaped from.”

Elspeth nodded wisely. “He looks like a villain,” she whispered.

In the uneven light, he did look a bit sinister, tall with dark, lank hair and a drooping mustache. A perfect villain from a melodrama. Deanna knew he was a reprobate from Gran Gwen. And that he used women ignominiously from Laurette.

He was looking toward the stage but suddenly turned toward Deanna and Elspeth. Deanna and Elspeth slipped down in their seats. They barely breathed as he walked past them down the aisle toward the stage.

He paused briefly and looked over the row of actors, then turned and went through a door on the left side of the stage.

Deanna and Elspeth exchanged looks. Elspeth started to get up. Deanna stopped her. “Stay here in case I miss Noreen while I'm backstage. If she starts to leave, tell her to wait for me.”