Fatal as a Fallen Woman (18 page)

That announcement caused even more of an uproar than her suggestion that they leave town. Congratulations seemed sincere. So did the quizzical look she got from Maryam. No one questioned her story outright, making her wonder if she was a better actress now than when she'd been with Todd's Touring Thespians. She'd only been on stage twice while Evan was a member of that company. Both times she'd been filling in for an ingenue so ill she couldn't rise from her sick bed. Both times she'd forgotten lines and missed cues. Evan had been furious with her.

"So. We're moving to Torrence." The professor polished off the last of his coffee and tipped back in his chair. "Does the town have a base ball team?"

"If it doesn't, you can start one," Red Katie told him.

And just that easily, the decision was made.

"Then the Elmira is closed," Diana said. "We'll spend the day packing and leave first thing tomorrow."

There were a dozen small tasks to be done before abandoning the building. The professor took on the job of boarding up windows. Jane handed out dust covers to put over the furniture.

When Jane headed for the Chinese parlor, Diana followed, hoping for the opportunity to speak to her in private. "If you'd care to stay here instead of going to Torrence," she said, "there is a position open in the Hastings house as my personal maid."

Jane's expression remained bland but her eyes snapped behind her spectacles. "I do not believe I'd care to be someone's servant." She shook out a dust cover with a snap of fabric and threw it over a chair.

"No, I didn't think you would." A number of aspects of Matt's plan seemed less reasonable by daylight. "Does the title of companion suit you any better? All it entails is accompanying me whenever I go out, along with the chaperone Matt has hired."

Jane sighed. "If you're determined to close the hotel, I don't suppose I have much choice. I have nowhere else to go."

"You could make the trip to Torrence with the others. Mr. Kent is there, I believe."

"Mr. Kent would not appreciate having me show up on his doorstep unannounced," Jane said. "I'll stay with you."

She flung the next dust cover with even more force. Diana decided it might be best to leave her alone for a bit. Whether it was because the Elmira was closing or because Alan Kent had disappointed her in some way, Jane was not happy.

Diana slipped out of the Chinese parlor and nearly collided with Maryam.

"Jane's to be your companion?" Maryam's sarcasm was as obvious as the fact that she'd been eavesdropping.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

Maryam shrugged and toyed with the pink ribbon that held her dark hair away from her face. "Just strikes me as peculiar, that's all."

"Why?"

"Maybe because Matt Hastings was talking to her last night,
before
he went in to visit you. Heads together, real intense. None of my business," Maryam added, "but I can't help but think maybe he's looking to have two women for the price of one." Sniggering, she sashayed off down the hall.

"That Maryam no like you." Ning spoke at her elbow, giving Diana a start. She had no idea where the boy had come from, but she wished he hadn't overheard a remark so obviously inappropriate for a child's ears.

He was correct about Maryam. But then, Maryam didn't seem to like anyone very much. Diana was inclined to attribute her malicious parting shot to jealousy. "Companion" was, after all, a decided step up from prostitute. Matt had probably just been making some innocuous remark to Jane. About the weather perhaps.

Ning tugged at her sleeve. "Where I go, Mrs. Diana? I come with you to Mr. Hastings?"

"No, Ning. For now I want you to stay with your aunt, but you'll still be working for me." Fishing into her pocket, she drew out an envelope in which she'd put most of the cash Elmira had tossed at her. "This is your pay, in advance. If you're as wise as I think you are, you'll make it your nest egg. Do you know what that means?"

Ning peered into the envelope. "I know." The money disappeared into the folds of his blue blouse.

"Do you also know where Mr. Hastings lives?"

He nodded.

"And are you familiar with the Windsor Hotel?"

Another nod.

"Mattie Silks says there's a Chinese boy working at the hotel. Do you know him?"

Ning scraped the floor with one toe, head bowed, and grudgingly admitted it. "Wen. My cousin."

"Excellent." At his frown, she chuckled. "Don't worry, Ning. I'm not planning to replace you. In fact, you have a very important role to play. Wen will be your contact, but you'll be the boss."

She reached once more into her pocket and this time retrieved a letter she had written early that morning.

"Take this to the Windsor Hotel and give it to the desk clerk. It is for a gentleman who will be arriving from the East in a day or two. It tells him to send word to me by way of the Chinese boy in the Windsor's bar. Make sure Wen knows how to reach you, so that you can come at once to Mr. Hastings's house."

She hesitated, tapping one finger thoughtfully against her lower lip. She hadn't told Matt what Horatio Foxe's last telegram had said and she didn't intend to. A day or two should be long enough to find opportunities to talk with Miranda and with some of her father's friends. After that, she'd face the music.

"It would be best if Mr. Hastings didn't know what you're really up to." She'd have enough explaining to do as it was. "If anyone asks, say you've come for your reading lesson. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mrs. Diana. I understand good."

She watched him head out to run her errand, wishing she had even half his confidence. Moving into Matt's house might be a huge mistake, but belated second thoughts weren't enough to make her change her mind. Not at this late date.

She'd just have to hope that everything went according to plan when "the gentleman from the East" arrived at the Windsor.

* * * *

Thursday afternoon was the time most of the girls who plied their trade on Holladay Street had free. After sleeping till noon, some frequented the horse races at Overland Park. Others paraded uptown in tallyhos drawn by two horses, ostensibly to do their shopping but really to see and be seen. 

On the twenty-sixth day of April, however, the activity started early. The Denver, South Park & Pacific Railroad ran two daily express trains that stopped in Torrence. The first left Denver at eight in the morning.

A platform wagon and two six-passenger hacks stood in front of the Elmira Hotel at seven, the first piled high with trunks and the others occupied by eight boarders, one piano player, a cook and a night maid.

 "Ning, you young scalawag," Red Katie called out. "Come and give us a kiss goodbye." She lifted the brown veil she wore to ward off freckling and the boy, who had been watching from the shadow of the porch, darted forth and complied.

The sound of another vehicle approaching distracted Diana from her farewells. She turned to see an open victoria turn onto Holladay Street and had no difficulty recognizing its sole passenger as Mattie Silks. The diamond-studded cross she wore around her neck winked bright in the morning sun.

Mattie remained ensconced on the plush upholstery until her driver came around to help her out of the four-wheeled vehicle, then descended to the street with as much dignity as any wealthy dowager.

In the harsh light of day, fine lines showed around her eyes and mouth, suggesting she was closer to forty than Diana had previously thought. More surprising still was how alert Mattie was for such an early hour. Her face had a fresh scrubbed look and her blue eyes sparkled with curiosity. It was possible, Diana supposed, given how little she knew about the personal habits of the many madams of Holladay Street, that some of them rose at dawn. And perhaps, like Jane, Mattie started the day with a bracing splash of cold water and a session of calisthenics.

"So it's true," Mattie said, coming to a halt at Diana's side and tilting her head back to peer into her face. "You're closing up shop and sending everyone away."

"I thought it best."

"A word of advice, Mrs. Spaulding. It is never a good idea to give up your independence completely. And marriage is not always the best bargain a woman can make."

Diana's hands clenched at her sides. "I hadn't realized my engagement to Matt Hastings had become general knowledge." She should have warned the girls not to gossip but it hadn't occurred to her that they would. Foolish of her.

"If I were you, I'd tell him you've changed your mind. Keep this place open. If you don't like living here, buy a little house of your own elsewhere."

"Is that what you do? Live somewhere else?"

"Just moved into a place over on Lawrence Street." Pride underscored every word. "It's in a fashionable residential district. I've got posh neighbors now."

Diana couldn't help but share Mattie's pleasure in the accomplishment. "It is kind of you to offer advice, but there are other reasons for closing the Elmira."

"Threats, you mean?"

"So you know about my visit from Ed Leeves, too?" Why was she surprised? Holladay Street was worse than a small town. She could see Pearl Adams's house from where she stood. Pearl was watching them from the porch, still in her nightgown, a bright paisley shawl the only thing keeping her decent.

"I know," Mattie said, "and I can solve that little problem for you. Lease the Elmira to me. I'll pay you $120 a month. That's more than the going rate."

But Diana just shook her head. "The hotel isn't mine, either to sell or to lease."

"You can't believe your mother intends to return?"

"I don't know what my mother is up to." And that, at least, was the truth.

"Waste of a good real estate. Waste of good talent, too. Whyever did you insist Hastings pension off your mother's girls before you'd agree to marry him? You'd have done better to ask for jewelry."

That twist of the facts made Diana blink in surprise. But if Mattie didn't have all the details straight, Diana saw no reason to enlighten her. Let the denizens of Holladay Street believe what they liked.

Mattie was watching her, waiting for an answer. Diana permitted herself a small, secretive smile. "It seemed a good idea at the time."

"Mrs. Diana. They leave now."

"Coming, Ning."

"You sure he's not for sale?" Mattie asked, eyeing the boy with a predatory gaze.

"Very sure."

* * * *

Mrs. Ernestine Bowden, stout and white-haired, was the very model of a dignified elderly lady. She wore a plain, single-skirted brown velvet dress with a soft tulle handkerchief folded across the breast and lace ruffles at her wrists. On her head was a decorous white cap tied loosely under her chin with ribbons. She did not look up when Diana, Matt, and Jane entered Matt's sitting room. She did not appear to hear them, and from the way she squinted at her embroidery, Diana suspected she was half blind as well as somewhat deaf.

"Mrs. Bowden," Matt shouted, "may I present my fiancée, Diana Spaulding."

Mrs. Bowden didn't move.

He touched her sleeve and she jumped. "Oh, Mr. Hastings. I did not realize you'd returned. Good afternoon, sir." She peered nearsightedly around him at Diana and Jane. "And which one of these lovelies is your betrothed?"

Diana stepped forward to be presented.

Mrs. Bowden smiled politely as the introductions were made, but said nothing, making Diana wonder if she had all her wits about her. Matt repeated himself. Diana leaned forward to say how pleased she was to meet Mrs. Bowden and ask if she had lived in Denver long.

"Did you hear what I said?" she asked when Mrs. Bowden did not respond to conversational gambit.

"I like red," the old lady announced, and held up her embroidery hoop. Crimson silk threaded the needle with which she was cross-stitching a large flower.

Diana glanced at Jane, who shrugged.

"Deaf as a post, poor thing," Matt said.

"Does she at least understand why you hired her?"

"To keep you company."

This became only too clear when Mrs. Bowden insisted upon making her way up the stairs, in spite of painful arthritis, to "help" her new charge get settled in.

"You and Mrs. Bowden have adjacent bedrooms at the opposite end of the hall from mine." Matt showed Diana into a large, airy chamber. "Jane will sleep in your dressing room."

Diana made no objection once she saw that it was larger than the attic quarters Jane had occupied at the Elmira. She inspected the view from her windows next, pleased to discover that they overlooked her former home. In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, she was directly across from Miranda's bedroom. That view might prove useful, she thought, especially if Miranda were given to entertaining suspicious gentlemen.

She wondered where that thought had come from. Although Miranda had been her father's mistress before she'd become his wife, Diana had heard nothing to indicate that she'd taken a lover while he was still alive. Then again, she didn't suppose she would have. She hadn't been associating with society women on Holladay Street.

Although the suspicion was unsupported, it continued to nag at her as she, Jane, and Mrs. Bowden unpacked. If Miranda had taken a lover, that would have given her even more reason to get rid of her wealthy older husband.

Among the belongings Diana had brought to Matt's house was the list of questions she had made for herself on her first full day in Denver. Jane came across it while putting away Diana's clothing.

"Are you still trying to prove your mother's innocence?" she asked.

"I'm still hoping to prove someone else killed my father," Diana corrected her. She laid out her tortoiseshell comb and hair receiver on the dresser and reached into her gripsack for the hand mirror, brush, button hook and shoehorn that completed the set.

"What evidence is there against Mother aside from the glove?" Jane read.

"None," Diana replied, "and the glove was planted. Remember what Nellie told us. Mother was wearing a different pair that night."

"She could have changed them."

"Gone prepared to get the first pair bloody? I don't think so. And if she had, she'd have tossed them away, or left them at the Windsor along with the knife."