Noon at Tiffany's (27 page)

Louis grabbed the man’s overcoat and pushed him roughly against the wall. He saw the fear come into Edwin’s eyes and quickly let go. He would have to treat the devil the same way he would treat any man who was a threat to his business. He again surveyed the shabby room and considered the poor quality of the man’s clothes and knew that to a man
like this a thousand dollars was a king’s ransom.

“Twelve hundred,” he said with finality. “But I warn you, if you try for more you’ll get nothing.” He rested a hand on the door. “Yes or no? Be quick. I’ve wasted enough of my time with you.”

Edwin had a brief impulse to try for more, but something in the man’s eyes told him to accept the offer. “Very well. Twelve hundred.”

Satisfied, Louis nodded. “You will do as I tell you. If there is one deviation from my directions, you’ll get nothing. Is that clear?”

“Go on.”

“First, you will never mention this meeting to another living soul, not to your family, your whore, or your degenerate friends. Secondly, you are to immediately conclude whatever business you have in the city in a manner that won’t invite question.

“When you’re finished here, go to Tallmadge and, with as much gentility as you can dredge up, break off your engagement to Clara. Your reasoning shall indicate only that you are in some way faulty and not worthy of her hand. Make sure that she and her family are left spotless and do it in a manner that does not assign them any blame whatsoever.

“After that, go as far from Clara and New York as you can. Make sure you have your harlot under control—you never know when she might grow tired of her trade and take up blackmail. If you don’t adhere to this course to the letter, I’ll see to it your life is visited by such misery, you and your family will wish you’d never been born.”

Edwin grasped Louis’s arm. “What about the money?”

Louis clapped a gloved hand over Edwin’s and threw it off as if it were a piece of gutter soil. “After you’ve broken the engagement, send a note letting me know where you want it wired.”

“How can I be sure you’ll keep your end of the bargain?”

“Because, Mr. Waldo, the money is my one insurance against your ever coming back.”

Lenox Hill

June 7, 1897

Home to a hot bath and a bottle of my best brandy. I feel tainted by that creature. God forbid Clara should be further corrupted by him. I cannot bear to think that she may have allowed him to take liberties. Just the thought of his filthy hands touching her flesh leaves me violent.

I feel no shame. He undoubtedly would have ruined her. I’ve rescued the woman from a fate worse than death and my business from certain collapse. $1200 is a small price to pay for so much. L.C.T.

The Diary of Kate Eloise Wolcott:

June 19:
Rev. Cutler and Clara are off to Kent to bring back her dear Edwin. K.W.

June
21: Clara, Edwin and I took the cart to Fenn’s Grove for a picnic. Emily couldn’t be persuaded to go, even with promises of pickled beets and fresh clotted crème.

Edwin told stories of his work at the Settlement and read to us from scriptures. Clara and I pretended interest. K. W.

June 25:
Edwin, Clara and I to Kent to shop for the pre-wedding trip to Chicago. Again, Emily resists our company. She has made it clear (as only Emily can) that she finds Edwin’s company repellent.

I, too, have caught glimpses of him that disturb. He’s nervous at times, rushing here and there and doing errands and chores that sometimes would best be left undone or at least done in a more serene manner. Other times he seems drained of all liveliness, his eyes half-cast and his tongue clumsy. K.W.

June 26:
Mama is fretful that Clara hasn’t set a date for the wedding. Clara jokes that it will probably take place on her way to the barn to milk the cows. I pray she isn’t thinking of elopement—that would hurt us all. K.W.

June 28:
After dinner Edwin, boasting of his excellence at Seminary College, engaged Rev. Cutler in a long discussion on doctrine and scripture. Being a fine theologian, the Reverend caught him at every vagary and flimsy assertion. Poor Clara blushed to her roots, but said nothing. K.W.

July 1:
Rev. Cutler and I took Clara and Edwin to the train. They travel first to Cleveland to visit Aunt Kate and Uncle David. After that they’ll take a short sightseeing trip to Lake Geneva and then home to Tallmadge, though still no date has been set for the wedding.

The moment Edwin was out of sight, the sky brightened as if a dark cloud had lifted. There is something false about him. His eyes are too close, and they dart about in a suspicious manner, as though searching for an escape route. I see no warmth between him and Clara, let alone fire. We all quietly despair. K.W.

Lake Geneva, Wisconsin

Clara believed the trouble started the moment they stepped off the train. By all appearances it didn’t seem possible that any sort of problem could exist, it being one of Lake Geneva’s blue-sky days, when everything is possible and life is lived in the moment. Beautiful in their white linen finery, they drew smiles from the people they passed. From the way he nervously played with his watch fob when asking for separate rooms, one might have concluded they were newly wed, were it not for his unhappy countenance.

Clara retired to her room, while they waited for the porter to deliver their luggage. An hour later, she was roused from her nap by the sound of a heavy fist assaulting the door. In the hall she found Edwin in a sweat-soaked undershirt, gripping the arm of a young Negro porter.

“Tell her!” Edwin roughly shook the boy. “Tell her at once, or I’ll whip your hide!”

“Yers an’ da Mistah’s bags dey gone on the train, Ma’am.”

She looked from Edwin to the porter. “Our trunks are gone? Where?”

“Yas’m,” the porter nodded, “Dey gone to Chicaga. The bag car man, he clean fergit to puts ’em on the platform. Owie! Youse hurtin’ mah arm, mistah.”

“Let him go, Edwin,” Clara said wearily. “It isn’t his fault and abusing the child isn’t going to help anything.”

She looked down at the boy. “When will our trunks be delivered?”

“Maybe tomarra.” The porter gave Edwin a sidelong glance. “An’ if ah don’ git back right away an’ tell ’em to wire Chicaga, maybe not then neither.”

Edwin yanked the boy off his feet and shook him until his head wobbled on his thin stalk of a neck. “Don’t you get sassy with us, you insolent good-for-nothing. I want our bags delivered within the next hour or I’ll … I’ll call the police. I’ll have the whole damned lot of you arrested for robbery!”

“Stop it, Edwin!” Clara pulled at his arm. “Didn’t you hear what the child said? There’s nothing to be done about it until they get word to the trainmaster. We’ll just have to make do in the meantime.”

She dug in her pocket and handed the porter a quarter. “Thank you for letting us know. Now run back and tell the stationmaster to wire ahead. Can you do that?”

The boy wiggled free of Edwin’s grip. “Yas’m, ah do it right away.”

Edwin collapsed in on himself with a cry of misery. “My powders and tonics are in the trunk. I can’t get by without them. I’ll be sick.”

“Surely the chemist here can supply you with similar remedies, at least enough to get you through until your trunk arrives.”

“No drugstore will have what I need,” Edwin said, his jaw twitching spasmodically. Without another word, he went into his room and slammed the door behind him.

An hour later, Clara found him on his knees retching and shivering. He was deathly pale and soaked in sweat. He refused to talk to her except to ask for more blankets and a damp cloth. She stood by helpless until she couldn’t stand it any longer and reached for the bell pull. “I’m going to send for a doctor, Edwin. You’re beginning to frighten me.”

Eyes blazing, he turned on her in a fury. “Don’t you dare call anyone! The last thing I need is some pompous charlatan prodding and poking about my person. Just leave me alone. I can’t—” He doubled over, choking.

She rushed to him, but he pushed her away. “You can’t help.”

“But there must be something I can do,” she cried. “You don’t realize the seriousness of your own situation. If you won’t let me call the doctor, then at least let me run a hot bath for you.”

Without waiting for his consent, she stepped into the bathroom and filled the tub. She rummaged through the cabinets until she found a tin of bath salts and emptied the contents into the steaming water. When she returned, Edwin was sitting on the edge of his bed, crying.

“Take your bath,” she said in a voice that left no room for argument.
“Come to my room when you’ve finished. I’ll leave my door ajar. If you need help, call out. I’ll hear you.”

She returned to her room and tried to read, but her mind kept wandering back to his first few days Tallmadge. He had grown so strange. It was more than prenuptial jitters. There had been times when she thought he might have been having some sort of mental collapse.

He was suddenly standing in the doorway, his skin still red from the near-scalding water. Handsome, aloof, he leaned against the door staring back at her with steady eyes.

“You’re right about finding what I need at the chemist’s. I thought I’d take a stroll through town and check in at the drugstore.”

She rose, her book falling to the floor. “Give me a moment to change into a fresh jacket and button up my shoes. We still have a few hours before dinner, and I could use a good walk. We’ll both need toothbrushes and toothpowder, but—”

“No! You stay here in case there’s news of our trunks. I’ll buy what we need.”

“But the boy said—”

“I know what the boy said!” Edwin barked. “I prefer you stay here. Please don’t argue with me on every little point. It grates on my nerves.”

Beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead, and the idea crossed her mind that he was on the brink of delirium. She opened her arms to him. “Please dearest, let me come with you. You aren’t yourself.”

He surprised her by falling into her embrace and burying his face in her neck. She could feel his thin body shaking under his coat. She held him as she would a wounded child and stroked his hair. “You’re going to be fine, darling,” she murmured. “You’re under great strain, what with the wedding and beginning a new business venture. Try to think of good things. After we’re married, we’ll be free to …”

He pulled out of her arms and shoved past her into the hall. “I’m going to find a chemist. I’ll be back soon.”

Before she could utter another word, he raised his hand in farewell and was gone.

She noted the time. If he had not returned in an hour, she’d go searching for him.

And search she did—down every street and alleyway and every inch
of lakeshore that was accessible by foot. She urged herself to keep going through the night and into the next morning, until her feet felt like two blocks of wood. If the opportunity had presented itself, she would have sold her soul for a bicycle and the ability to ride it.

When she finally dragged herself up the hotel steps and into the lobby, people turned to stare at the disheveled woman splattered with mud, who bore the appearance of one not quite sound of mind.

The Diary of Kate Eloise Wolcott:

July 13:
Received a telegram from Clara. Edwin was taken ill at Lake Geneva with a severe disorder of the nerves and has ‘disappeared.’ Emily cannot travel, due to her hypochondriacal obsession with her bowels, and I’ve been ordered to stay and care for her (what joy) and the farm. Rev. Cutler must remain with his congregation, so it’s left to Mama to take the train to Wisconsin first thing tomorrow morning. This event comes as no surprise to any of us. I admit to expecting worse. K.W.

Lake Geneva’s Constable Pratt was a big man with receding, wavy hair and a face that fit the image of the naval officer he claimed to have once been. “My search party has been at this now for four days, ladies,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back as he gazed out the window. He seemed to have trouble looking at Clara or Fannie, preferring instead to address distant space. “Short of dragging the lake, we’ve done about everything we can.”

“Yes, Mr. Pratt you have,” Clara said. “And I’m grateful for the time and effort you and your men have spent searching for Mr. Waldo. If only we could have gotten an earlier start.”

She bit her lip, remembering the hours they’d wasted interrogating her. When she first went to them, the constable and his men showed no interest whatsoever in Edwin or his perplexing behavior. Their only concern was in knowing why an unmarried woman was traveling unchaperoned with a man who wasn’t her husband or a blood relative. When she didn’t answer to their satisfaction, they automatically assumed foul play and asked her point blank if she had reason to want Mr. Waldo ‘out of the way.’
She’d protested, but they’d kept at her for hours. As far as she could tell, their main objective was to create a scandal or a sensational tale of murder to thrill the townsfolk and bring in more tourist trade. It wasn’t until she threatened to have Mr. Tiffany contact his good friend, Wisconsin’s Governor Scofield, that they began their lackluster search for Edwin.