A Lesson in Love and Murder (17 page)

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Authors: Rachel McMillan

BOOK: A Lesson in Love and Murder
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Jasper Forth had never done anything quite so spontaneous, so reckless or foolhardy, as telling Tipton he was taking leave. First Tipton asked why he needed a warrant signed for Spenser's requisition and shipping orders. Jasper lied for the second time in his life.
‡
When pressed, he had described the time off as “well, a sort of vacation,
to see about an old friend.” And then he'd dashed to the train station to secure a ticket to Chicago.
§

Now, parched and unsettled, wishing for something to settle his nerves as he pursued a trail of uncertain consequence, Jasper twisted ungracefully through the aisle. He had not yet mastered the art of squeezing his tall frame through enclosed, moving spaces. Bumping up against another passenger, then, was not wholly a shock to him. But stepping back and registering that person? A shock indeed.

“Jemima!” His eyes went wide. Her face betrayed the same surprise.

“Jasper!”

“Jem, you look most unwell.” Indeed, her skin was almost translucent.

“I'm not used to the motion.”

He nodded. “Me neither, eh? I plum ran into you.”

“I need to sit down for a moment,” she said. Jasper quickly found them two seats and guided her into a chair. “I wish the world would stop spinning,” she said after a minute, opening her eyes.

“You're sure you're all right?”

“Just a little dizzy.”

The color was returning to her face. “So now you can tell me where you're going,” he gently prodded.

Jem swallowed. “Ch-Chicago,” she said slowly.

Jasper narrowed his eyes. “So Ray summoned you too?”

Jem shook her head. “No. Of course not. He… Wait. Did Ray ring for you?”

Jasper nodded. “He's found a… Well, it's something attached to a case I'm working on in the city.”

“The anarchist bombs and Jonathan?” Jem's eyes were saucers.

“Something like that. Jem, it's dangerous. He wouldn't want you to be following him unescorted into a strange city and… ”

“Oh, I'm not alone,” Jem said easily. “Benny Citrone and Merinda are waiting for me in the dining car.”

Jasper Forth held a small plastic bag up to the light of the train window. What was inside the translucent cover was tiny, like string.

“What is that?” Benny asked.

Jasper slid the object across the table. “A bit of wire from the explosion yesterday. We've found similar bits at every one of these bomb sites. Our engineers say no such wire is used in the making of the cars.”

“This is a wire from a bomb,” Benny said. He motioned for Jasper to lean in and pointed out the delicate craftsmanship of the evidence. “That's a Turk's knot.” Benny used his index finger to point, and Jasper squinted in concentration. “Every member of the Force uses a Turk's knot to tie the lanyard at the neck of his uniform. It's regulation.”

“So this is Jonathan's knot?”

“It seems very unlikely it would be anyone else's,” said Benny.

“So the streetcar bombings and the bomb that killed Jones are definitely the work of Jonathan Arnasson,” Merinda said.

Benny groaned. “I keep thinking I'll wake up and all of this will be a horrible dream, but that seems impossible now.”

The server poured coffee in three ceramic mugs and left the carafe. Merinda sipped, burned her tongue, wrinkled her nose, and took a few mental steps back. “What are you doing here, Jasper? Now that Benny's identified your silly knot, you can tell us.”

Jasper swallowed his mouthful of coffee. “Ray called me. He wants my help getting his sister out of trouble, but mostly I think he really wants my help in uncovering… ”
¶

“Ray called
you
?” Merinda cut him off, eyebrows shooting up to her hairline.

Jasper shrugged. “He's my friend, and he senses trouble, and he trusts me.”

“Well, if DeLuca's in trouble, that means we're all involved,” Merinda said resolutely. “So now we just have to find Benny's cousin, stop
whatever bombs Ross and his men have in their grand plan, infiltrate whatever group of troublemakers is blowing up streetcars, and check on DeLuca.” She exhaled.

“You missed the part of the sentence where Ray summoned
me
, Merinda, not you and Jem.”

“Cracker jacks, Jasper! By calling you, of course he meant us.”

“I assure you,” Jasper said, “at no point did he say, ‘Oh, and make sure to bring my wife and her nosey friend.' ”

Merinda mumbled something neither of the men could understand.

Benny turned from the window. “You said something about Ray DeLuca's brother-in-law?”

“Tony. Ray thinks the fellow's up to his ears in all manner of crime.” Jasper stared ruefully into his coffee cup, wondering whether or not to tell Benny what he had the right to know, that Ray had found Jonathan's knot on another corpse, and the evidence now pointed to outright murder on top of destruction on a larger scale. He took a deep breath. “Looks like Ray stumbled into some crime of his own too. He was unloading a few barges for this fellow named Hedgehog to make a quick buck, and he found a corpse stuffed inside a long crate. And a jar with the Spenser's logo emblazoned on it.”

Moments later, having finished her coffee and avoiding Jasper's insistence that they speak about their row concerning the
Hog
article, Merinda made her way back to her cabin, where Jem was waiting.

She took one look at Jem, seeing that she was white as a sheet, with dark circles under her eyes, and felt every hope for her future drain away. “Oh,
no
!” She slapped her palm to her forehead. She wasn't sure why clarity hit her at precisely that moment, but it did so with the weight of an anvil. The dizziness, the long naps, the constant yawning. The general air of peakishness and the complete inability to string together a logical sentence. “No. No. No. No, Jem! It can't be.”

“Merinda, desist your prattling,” Jem said from under the arm flung across her face. “The train is jerking and… ”

“Jemima! My beautiful detective business!
Our
beautiful detective business. No.” Merinda sank on her bed.

“It's not the end of the world,” Jem said sulkily from the bed adjacent. “We can still… detect. We're here now, aren't we?”

Merinda buried her face in her pillow. “Oh, Jem!” she cried. “I can't bring you to Chicago! Explosives! Anarchists! DeLuca would have my head. We have to get the conductor to turn the train around!”

“You cannot be serious. Turn on that brain of yours, Merinda. Be reasonable!”

“I can't bound about with you at my heels in your condition.”

“Nothing has changed,” Jem grumbled. “I'm still
me
.”

“I'm not playing nursemaid,” Merinda said in a surly voice.

“You're jumping eight steps ahead of me.”

“You didn't tell me!”

“Was there a point in telling you? You should have figured it out already, O Great Deductive One.”

“I was so daft. Fainting at the Goldman rally!”

“I was just light headed. Everyone was. It was a furnace in there.”

“You have to tell me. From now on. Anything. Anytime it's too much for you.”

Jem felt herself suppressing a giggle. “You've never refrained from tossing me headfirst into danger before.”

“It's different now.”

“It doesn't have to be. We watch out for each other.”

Later, though, when Jem's even breathing let Merinda know she had fallen asleep, Merinda stared at the ceiling as the train jerked and started over the tracks.

“Don't leave me behind,” she said to the dark air. “Don't you dare leave me behind, Jemima.”

*
The telegram actually read, “C
ALL AT
170 N S
TATE
S
TREET
430
PM
.”

†
Merinda's traveling necessities included a single change of men's clothing and every picklock she could find.

‡
The first time Jasper lied was when he was ten years old and said that it was his brother James who tossed the rest of Aunt Marjory's fruitcake in the rubbish bin when it was really himself.

§
This was purchased with some of the savings he holed away for a proper home and honeymoon, should he ever find himself fortunate enough to step into nuptial bliss.

¶
What he really wanted to say was, “Running away from you. But here you are anyway.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

As important as it is to be able to pursue, so must one be able to detect pursuit. While coats and hats can change quickly; shoes not so easily. Thus, if you feel you are being followed, pay attention to your tracker's footwear. A tracker will anticipate any move you might make, so ensure you are two steps ahead of them.

Benfield Citrone and Jonathan Arnasson,
Guide to the Canadian Wilderness

J
asper Forth ensured the girls were settled in the Palmer House after Benny went in pursuit of his own lodging, promising to leave a message so they would know how to contact him. Benny assured Merinda and Jem he would be perfectly content and safe at a boardinghouse recommended by the kind matron at the Empire Hotel.
*

Jem pressed a generous tip into the bellboy's hand. They discarded their outerwear and left the room, heading downstairs for tea and luncheon. As in most cases where propriety was required, Jem glowed.

“Everything is a living, breathing work of art,” Jem told Merinda. She kept her eyes up, enchanted by the gold peacock doors and the Baroque paintings surrounded by marble and gold ornamentation on the domed ceilings of the lobby. “You could at least attempt to appreciate this hotel,” Jem said out of the corner of her mouth as they walked to the concierge's desk to send a telegram to David Ross.
“Acknowledging the not-inconsiderable sum of money your father has fronted for this adventure.”

After an overpriced meal that cost about as much as Jem's grocer's bill for a week, Jem suggested that they use the time they had before meeting Ross's affiliates to explore Chicago. What she didn't say was that the sooner they left the boundaries of the flashy hotel, the more likely she was to chance upon her husband.

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