A Study in Revenge (36 page)

Leaning forward in his desk chair, Grey balanced the tip of the egg-shaped thunderstone under the palm of his left hand. With his right he
slowly spun it, studying each symbol in turn, as he had so many times on the train ride home.

There was the now-familiar design matching the symbol he’d recovered at the Athenaeum. The next two in line resembled the traditional symbols for male and female. Next came a circle with a dot at the center, then two completely foreign symbols, and lastly one similar to a crescent moon. Grey pondered the collection of figures for a while before deciding they would need further study. He was tired and wanted to be done with this assignment; the recovery of the stone had drained him. Still, he couldn’t ignore that the symbols remained an unresolved mystery. He would telephone Phebe Webster’s house and arrange to deliver the stone that evening. Before that time, however, he would make a copy of the symbols for his own further consideration.

G
REY REPOSITIONED
the carrying case under his right arm and made a conscious effort not to put his weight on his walking stick. He gave the knocker three raps and waited outside the front door of the late Horace Webster’s house. It was now solely the residence and property of Phebe, and he’d agreed to meet her there and turn over the thunderstone. He’d thought of having Rasmus drive him over, in the new carriage he was renting, but forced himself to walk in hopes that the exercise would help his legs. His thighs, shins, and ankles were still protesting the arduous climb and quicker, more jarring descent of Katahdin several days earlier.

Phebe herself opened the door, and Grey’s face must have shown his surprise. She greeted him with a smile and took his hat and stick.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, Mr. Grey. I’ve given the servants the evening off, so that we can speak privately, without interruption.”

She invited him into the sitting room and poured him a cup of tea from a waiting pot. Grey set the case on a low table in front of them and flipped open the latches. Inside, the thunderstone sat nestled in a bundle of soft cloth.

“Remarkable, Mr. Grey. Not to say I doubted you, but I wasn’t sure we’d ever see it again.” She ran her fingers across the surface but left the stone in its place. “I hope retrieving it wasn’t too much of a bother. Such a terrible fuss over a silly old stone. This will put Attorney Dyer’s and Euripides’ minds at ease anyway.”

“Your uncle’s been ill at ease? Has that caused him to be absent from work this week?”

Phebe gave Grey a quizzical look. “No, not at all. Whyever did you think that?”

“My mistake. But he’s been acting on edge?”

“He’s always acting on edge,” Phebe said.

“Any more than usual?”

“He was a bit agitated after receiving a telegram three days ago. And rather anxious for another to arrive yesterday, but it never did.”

“Who was that telegram from?” Grey asked.

“I don’t know. Why all the concern with Euripides?”

“I’m curious about his ongoing interest in Chief Jefferson.” He tried his tea. “There was, in fact, an unexpected incident in recovering the stone. Quite unfortunate.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Are you all right? I noticed you walking a touch stiffly.”

“I’m fine, thank you,” he answered.

“But the man who stole it has been found out. It was that Chief Jefferson after all, wasn’t it? Has he been arrested?”

“I’m not convinced that Chief Jefferson was behind the theft.”

“Who, then?” she asked.

“That I do not know.”

“I’m surprised. I was sure it was him. So was Uncle Euripides. I’m glad to have it back,” she said as she ran her fingers over the stone once more, “but still, it’s a bit disconcerting not to have resolved the question of its theft.”

“Some questions just take longer to unravel. Speaking of the unresolved, there is one more thing. You now have the thunderstone in hand. In return you promised to tell me all you know of your sister’s current whereabouts.”

“You have a commendable persistence, Mr. Grey. But all in service
of what? The dear man who wanted you to find out now rests in peace. Why can’t you let it be?”

“I was hired to discover an answer,” he said.

“If it’s the money, I’m sure we can reach some sort of arrangement.”

“It’s not that, Miss Webster.”

“Well, I can see you won’t be put off. Very well.” Phebe smoothed the ruffles on her long skirt and clasped her hands in her lap. “My sister, Maddy. What is there to say? I think she was restless here at home. She always dreamed of traveling widely. Seeing what there was to be seen in the world. The spring of last year, she up and left with no real notice.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“She was supposed to be visiting some old family friends in Connecticut for a week or two. But the two weeks passed and there was no word from her.”

“Did you contact these friends in Connecticut?” Grey asked.

“Yes, of course. We were all quite concerned about her. They said she boarded a train for New York. We were quite taken aback that we had no inkling of Maddy’s plan.”

“Was there any word from your sister after that?”

“Yes. Three letters arrived for me from New York City. The first came almost immediately. She didn’t want me to worry. The final letter was in July of last year. She was staying with friends enjoying life in the big city and all that. Another letter came from Chicago, I think two or three months later. She mentioned a plan to travel west to San Francisco. Said she would write when she could. That was the last I ever heard from her.”

“But your uncles both said she wasn’t heard from after spring of last year.”

“I didn’t mention the letters to anyone. She asked me not to. She thought my grandfather or Euripides would send someone to New York to collect her. They would have, too. I’d prefer if you didn’t mention that fact to Euripides or Jason.”

Grey nodded. “You didn’t share their concern?”

“Certainly I did. To some extent. But I also had much more faith in Maddy than they ever did. They still thought of her as a child. I knew she was capable of watching out for herself. In truth, I even envied her
some. Off seeing the world—it’s terribly adventurous. I’ve taken to working for Uncle Euripides this past year, just for something to do.”

“I assume you still have those letters. I’ll need to examine them,” Grey said.

“I’m not certain I feel right about sharing Maddy’s private letters.”

“Miss Webster, you did promise that in return for the recovery of the thunderstone you would furnish me whatever information you had concerning your sister’s whereabouts. Those letters are the only clues available. They might provide some indication of where she is now or who might have last spoken with her.”

“Yes, of course. I’m sure I still have them somewhere. I’ll need to look about. If you leave me your address, I could send them around as soon as I get them sorted.”

Grey rose and started slowly for the front hallway. “Thank you. So what will you do with the thunderstone?”

The question stopped Phebe in her tracks. A surprised and puzzled look came over her. “I hadn’t given it a thought until now. Honestly, it’s been with the attorneys for so long I just forgot that I’d even have to decide. Oh,” she said, and put a hand to her mouth, “you haven’t let the police see it, take a photograph, anything?”

“No.”

“Thank goodness. The last thing I need is to have Albert Dyer huffing and puffing about the terms of the old bequest and all that. Letting it be seen publicly is what got it boxed up in the lawyer’s office in the first place. I don’t suppose I can just set it out on the mantelpiece, can I?”

“Keeping it a bit more under wraps would probably be wise.” Grey put his hat on and picked up his walking stick.

“Yes, after all, someone’s already stolen it once, and a man was killed over it. Perhaps Grandfather’s old safe.”

“A reasonable solution,” Grey said.

“Well, Mr. Grey, thank you once again for all your efforts on my behalf. I’ll find those letters of Maddy’s and send them over later this week, I should think.”

Grey smiled and gave Phebe a slight bow of his head before departing. He made it as far as the sidewalk before he stopped. It had been less than three weeks ago that he’d paused in the same spot under different
circumstances. The inquiry had become infinitely more convoluted and dangerous in that time. Grey still couldn’t discern the true shape of what lurked at the center of the investigation. Men at the periphery of the matter, or who didn’t even know what they were involved in, had died. His own life had been threatened on multiple occasions, by what he suspected were separate parties. Despite all that, a single thought entered his mind at that moment. He glanced back at the house to see if Phebe Webster would be in the window, as she had been on that first morning, watching him go.

He didn’t see her face beside one of the curtains in the foyer or sitting room. Instead, on the other side of the first floor, he saw a figure. In the dim evening light, it was hard to make out any details, but the shape was too large, too masculine in its movements, to be Phebe Webster. Grey paused and stared. The figure moved out of his line of sight. Phebe had said she’d given all the servants the evening off. Grey hesitated a moment and then began to walk back toward the front door.

From inside there came a crashing sound—glass shattering. He heard Phebe Webster scream. Grey covered the remaining distance in a matter of steps, ignoring the flashes of pain in his aching legs. With his metal-handled walking stick raised up and ready to strike, he eased open the front door.

G
REY SLIPPED INTO THE FOYER AND TOOK IN THE SCENE
instantly. Two strides and he brought his stick around with full force, slashing across his body. His target didn’t have time to react. The man had Phebe Webster in his grasp, one hand across her mouth. He was turned three-quarters away, facing the entrance to the sitting room. By the time he noticed Grey, it was too late. The metal handle of the walking stick struck home behind the man’s right knee.

He yelped, and one hand shot down to the injured leg. It was enough for Phebe to pull free from his grasp. At that instant a second man entered from the sitting room. He held the carrying case open and facing out from him, so as to display the thunderstone to his partner. He let the case fall from his hands and reached inside his dark brown frock coat.

Grey sprang forward, swinging his walking stick overhead once more. The man drew a revolver, but before he could aim, Grey smashed the stick down on his right hand. There was an audible crack as the metal handle met the gunman’s knuckles. A thin spray of blood shot into the air as the gun clattered onto the polished hardwood floor.

With a glance back, Grey saw that the first man was no immediate threat. He was still clutching at his right knee and leaning against the wall with all his weight on his left leg. Phebe, recovering her wits after a moment, launched a kick into the man’s left shin that sent him toppling over.

“Go on!” Grey shouted. “Get out of here!”

Phebe bolted through the open front door.

The second man cradled his broken and bleeding fingers, distracted from all else for the moment. Grey seized the opening to drive a fist into the side of the man’s face. The thunderstone had rolled out when its case was dropped. Grey started toward it. The gunman reached out
from where he lay on the floor and snagged Grey by the ankle. He went sprawling but managed to yank his leg free from the man. The first intruder had risen to one knee and had the same idea as Grey; he lurched forward at the thunderstone. Before he could grasp it, Grey swiped his stick along the floor. The angled handle snagged around the stone’s curved surface, and Grey slid it away, out of the first man’s reach.

Grey rolled to his side, then scooped up the stone as he got to his feet. Behind him the second man had recovered his pistol. He raised it with his left hand to aim at Grey. As Grey dashed out the front door, he heard the gunshot shatter glass in one of the small side windows. Phebe stood on the pathway to the street. She emitted a small shriek at the gunshot, and then, seeing that Grey was out safely, she turned and ran for the sidewalk. Within half a block, Grey caught up to her. They both paused and glanced back to see the two attackers appear in front of the Webster house. A couple of neighbors who had peered out at the commotion now disappeared back into their houses.