The Dilemma of Charlotte Farrow (31 page)

“Yes, and I am glad of it. He promised to give me the corporation counselship, and he has not kept his word.”

Archie turned to Finn. “He shot the mayor over a job?”

Finn turned his palms up and shook his head.

“Get these people out of here,” the sergeant barked.

Officers began insisting that onlookers clear the station and wait outside. In a matter of minutes, hundreds of people had gathered, looking for information on the fate of the man who had murdered the mayor of Chicago.

Around the Banning table, forks clinked to plates and fell silent. Charlotte shuffled slowly to her position at the sideboard, where Mr. Penard had calmly set the tray of fish.

“Do you have any details, Father?” Leo asked.

“Very few. It happened at his home. He was shot three times at point-blank range with a .38-caliber revolver, wounded in the abdomen and the heart.”

“Did they see who the shooter was?” Flora asked.

Samuel nodded. “He was some ragged character demanding a city job for which he was not qualified.”

“Does this have something to do with all the anarchist nonsense?” George Moulton speculated.

Samuel shook his head thoughtfully. “No, Mayor Harrison was known to have sympathies with the labor groups. This just seems to be a man who was disturbed.”

“But the anarchists encourage crime as the way to right what they perceive as wrongs,” John Walsh argued. “Perhaps the shooter thought he was getting justice he was entitled to.”

“Either way, this is going to shake up the city,” Leo observed. “Chicago governance has no clear plan for succession in a situation like this.”

“Surely the city council will appoint a mayor pro tem,” George Moulton suggested, “probably first thing Monday.”

Samuel shook his head. “Any decisions such a person makes will have no legal standing. Leo's right. We could be in for some chaos until a special election is held.”

Charlotte glanced from Samuel Banning to his wife and back again, wondering if they were even going to want the roasted wild turkey and trimmings.

Every muscle in Charlotte's body ached by the time the guests had left—much of the dinner untouched—and the kitchen had been put back in order, but she knew she would not be able to sleep yet. At the end of October, the nights carried a threat of frost, so she took her cloak with her when she slipped into the courtyard to raise her face to the stars and ponder the distance of the night sky and its maker. She hoisted herself up on a ledge, gathered the edges of her cloak in her fists, and wrapped herself in warmth.

A better warmth spilled through her as she turned to see Archie moving toward her in the shadows.

He kissed her cheek. “I suppose you heard about the mayor.”

“Everyone in Chicago must know by now.” Charlotte examined him more closely. “Archie, you look like you've been in a train wreck.”

“Something close to that.” He leaned against the wall supporting her ledge. “As it happens, I was in the mayor's neighborhood when the shots were fired.”

Charlotte gasped. “Are you all right?”

He nodded. “I'm fine. We chased the shooter.”

“We?”

“My friend Finn and I. He's a coachman on Ashland Avenue. We almost caught him too, but it turned out he was turning himself in to the police. By the time they booked him, five hundred people were there.”

Charlotte laid her head on Archie's shoulder. “He might have decided to shoot at you. I don't know what I'd do if something had happened to you. I've already lost . . .”

Archie stood up straight and turned to face her. “We're
going to get him back, and we're going to figure out a way to be together. I promise you.”

Charlotte tore herself away from his brown eyes. “I want to believe that.”

“Have you said anything to the Bannings yet?”

She shook her head. “I just can't. If Lucy didn't think it was safe to tell them the truth when she was here, why would it be safe now?”

“Nothing is ever 100 percent safe,” Archie said softly. “Sometimes you have to take a risk you're not sure of because it's the right thing.”

“My grandmother would call that faith.”

“She'd be right. She'd want you to have faith, wouldn't she?”

Charlotte sighed and nodded. “She would have approved of you and the influence you have on me.”

Another shadow moved toward them, and Charlotte instinctively jumped down off the ledge.

“Sarah, what do you want?” Archie asked.

“I want to talk to you. Both of you.”

Archie sighed. “We're listening.”

“I don't know how to say this.” Sarah spoke so softly that Charlotte could barely hear her. “I know about the baby.”

“What do you know about the baby?” Archie asked cautiously.

Sarah choked on her words. “I know he's Charlotte's baby. I heard you talking the last time.”

“You eavesdropped on a private conversation,” Archie said, his jaw set.

“You were right there on the public sidewalk,” Sarah said in her own defense. “Anyone could have come by.”

“But you were the only one who knew we would be there. We trusted you.”

“Sarah,” Charlotte said, “if you tell anyone, I'll lose my position.”

Sarah put her head in her hands. “Please. None of that matters. I know you don't like me, and I know I've given you plenty of reason to feel that way. But this is different.” A sob escaped.

“Sarah, why are you crying?” Charlotte had never seen Sarah show an emotion not fed by arrogance.

“It was different when I thought he was an orphan and we didn't know who his mother was. We couldn't do anything about that, and I thought he would be better off with someone like Mrs. Banning's Cousin Louisa. But now I know who his mother is, and I've been thinking about this for days.”

“Sarah, what is it you want to say?” Charlotte's chest squeezed in on her breath.

Sarah swallowed hard. “You probably think I'm going to tattle to the Bannings. I've thought about it, I assure you.”

“Sarah, please . . .”
I can't believe I have to beg Sarah, of all people,
Charlotte thought, panic welling.

Sarah shook her head. “No. I'm not going to say anything. But I think
you
should.”

Archie crossed his arms. “I can't believe that Sarah and I agree on something.”

“I lost my parents,” Sarah said. “I was a lot older than your son, but I don't think that matters. They abandoned me.”

“I thought your parents were killed in an accident,” Archie said.

“They were. But that doesn't mean I don't feel they abandoned me. They were gone and I was all alone in that place
and could never go home again.” She turned and looked Charlotte in the eye. “I don't want your little boy to feel that way someday. Miss Emmaline isn't even married. Everyone in New Hampshire will know she's not really his mother. He's going to wonder someday who his mother is and why she abandoned him. I don't think that should happen. I think
you
have to stop it from happening.”

Archie put an arm around Charlotte's shaking shoulders as Sarah retreated into the house.

 32 

C
arter Harrison may have been sympathetic to the labor movement, a position of which the Bannings did not always approve, but he was still the mayor of Chicago—and a popular one elected several times. When the chilly first day of November descended on the city, instead of celebrating the triumphant conclusion of the World's Columbian Exposition, the Bannings were preparing for the mayor's funeral.

Charlotte could hardly wait to get them all out of the house. She had already volunteered to stay behind and ensure that preparations began on schedule for the evening meal.

The coachmen and groomsmen would be occupied all day shuttling the Bannings around the city—first to City Hall downtown, where the mayor was lying in state, and then to the Church of the Epiphany on Ashland Avenue. They would be among the privileged few to be seated in the church for the funeral service because of Samuel's participation in the National Committee of the World's Fair. Even young Richard would stay out of school for the day to pay his respects to Mayor Harrison alongside his parents and older brothers.

Charlotte poured coffee and carried the cup to the dining room table to set in front of Flora Banning.

“Lucy is supposed to be back in the country by now, isn't she?” Flora mused as she lifted the cup to her lips. “I'm sure she would have wanted to attend the funeral if she were home.”

Leo nodded and corralled a runaway over-easy egg. “Their original schedule called for them to dock in New York by the end of October.”

Samuel lifted a fork full of fried potatoes. “The closing ceremonies were replaced by a prayer service for Mayor Harrison. It's just as well she didn't make a special trip back to Chicago. No bands, no fireworks. Just a twenty-one gun salute to the mayor.”

“The whole city loved him,” Flora said. “How could they throw a party when the man who brought the fair to Chicago is dead?”

“I'm surprised Lucy hasn't telephoned,” Leo pondered. “She never answered my telegram, you know.”

Flora set her cup down slightly too hard. “I don't want to talk about that baby. It's too upsetting, and today has enough distress already.”

“I'm sorry, Mother.”

“Louisa never even came to see the fair. She couldn't bear to come to Chicago after she learned what Emmaline had done. Knowing the child had been in this very house would have brought too much anguish.”

“I am sorry, Mother,” Leo repeated, “both for you and Louisa. We don't have to discuss it. I'm sure Lucy has her reasons for not responding to my telegram.”

Charlotte turned her back to the family, pretending to
busy herself at the sideboard, though all she really did was rearrange the serving dishes. In her apron pocket, Lucy's letter had softened to fragility with all the unfolding and refolding.

“I suppose it's over and done with now.” Flora bit into a fresh croissant.

At the other end of the table, Samuel signaled to Charlotte that he was ready for coffee as well. “I'm afraid we don't have sufficient legal standing to take the matter to court. The only circumstance that would prevail is if the child's mother suddenly turned up.”

Charlotte's hand trembled as she poured the steaming brown liquid.

“That would hardly do Louisa any good, now would it,” Flora said. “It doesn't matter. Whatever vagrant left that child here would not have the gall to approach us now for assistance.”

“Mother, you sound a bit heartless,” Leo observed softly.

“I said I didn't want to talk about it.” Flora pushed her chair back from the table. “I must call Elsie to do my hair in some fashion that will stand up to the elements.”

Archie leaned his head back and surveyed the canopy of black trailing from the chandelier in the Council Chamber at City Hall and offering a somber highlight above the heavy cedar casket on the decorated raised platform. The mayor's chair and desk were also draped in black. Archie had joined the line early in the morning and waited with thousands of others for the opportunity to pay his last respects. Behind him, deep in the crowd, anonymous mourners began singing hymns, softly at first then swelling with energy as more voices
joined. As Archie shuffled past the casket and the cascades of flowers from police, city workers, and councilmen, he glanced across the chamber to the gallery of reserved seats.

The Bannings, with their familiar profiles and posture, were easy to spot. Mr. and Mrs. Banning and their three sons sat in dark attire, heads lowered respectfully. Immediately Archie began to scan the crowd and saw what he hoped to find—nearly every servant from the Banning house was in the mass snaking around the casket, even Mr. Penard. Everyone but Charlotte. He picked up his pace as much as would be tolerated under the solemn circumstances.

Outside City Hall, Archie pressed through the throng, grateful he was not trying to drive a rig through the curb-to-curb pedestrian congestion. Fleetingly he wondered where Karl might have let the family off and would be waiting with the carriage. Regardless of what the planned schedule was for the funeral service that afternoon, it would be hours before the pallbearers could transport the casket. Thousands still stood in line to walk past. The police no doubt would have to cut off the stream of mourners entering the building, then forge an opening through the crowd for miles to allow the hearse to pass to the church. The massive swarm already pressed in on the four coal-black horses that would strain against the weight of the hearse.

The Bannings were sure to be among those privileged to be seated in the church as thousands stood outside.

The event would take hours.

Hours.

Hours that the family would be away from the house.

Going against the direction of the crowd, Archie nudged people out of his way as politely as he could—but firmly.
Thousands of marchers already were lining up for the procession from City Hall to the church—postal workers, city clerks, police, representatives of ethnic groups to whom the mayor had been kind. Tens of thousands—hundreds of thousands—were staking out their positions along the route west and north. Fortunately for Archie, he needed to go the opposite direction—south to Prairie Avenue.

Charlotte had the bread rising and the fish cleaned. The roast did not have to go into the oven for hours, and the vegetables would be simple and quick.

And the silence was bliss.

The knock on the back door made her close her eyes and exhale, but she strode across the kitchen and answered the knock.

“Archie!” She stepped into his open arms without hesitation.

“I thought you might like a little company,” he said, “considering that everyone else who works here is at City Hall.”

“Someone had to stay home,” Charlotte said, “and I didn't feel up to the crowds.”

“Half the city is in the street today.” Archie guided her to take a seat at the kitchen table. “That's no exaggeration.”

“The shooting is all anyone talks about.”

Archie nodded. “Every preacher in the city talked about it on Sunday. At the inquest, though, Prendergast told the family he was sorry for the pain he caused.”

“They'll say he was imbalanced,” Charlotte said, “and he'll get off.”

“A crazy man does not have regrets,” Archie pointed out. “But that's not what I came to talk about.”

Charlotte's raised her eyebrows.

“While most of the city was busy shutting down the world's fair the last two days or making arrangements for the mayor, I was busy scheming on our future.”

“Our future?”

He nodded. “John Glessner has offered me a position as a clerk at Warder, Bushnell & Glessner. I start on Monday.”

Charlotte leaped up. “A position! With John Glessner! I always liked that man!”

“He had some questions about why I wanted to leave the employ of the Bannings, since he has known them for years, but he seemed satisfied with my answers.”

“Lucy has always thought well of Mr. Glessner.”

“This is our ticket, Charlotte.” Archie stood up and took both her hands. “You can tell the Bannings the truth about Henry and we'll get him back. We'll get married. Clerks at Glessner's company are allowed to have families.”

“I don't know, Archie,” Charlotte responded cautiously. “Everything is happening so fast.”

“I don't want you to have to spend one more day than necessary separated from your son.”

“But my husband—”

“Who might not be your husband. I'm making inquiries. We'll find out the truth. And we'll face the truth together, whatever it is—even if that means finding a way to release you legally.”

“But what if—”

Archie shook his head. “No what-ifs, Charlotte. What-ifs have been scaring you half to death for a long time.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “It's time for you to choose a happy ending.”

The back door squeaked, and Mr. Penard scowled at them as they jumped apart.

“You both know better than this,” Penard pronounced without raising his voice. “You will leave the property, Mr. Shepard.”

Charlotte nudged Archie toward the door as Mr. Penard disappeared into his pantry.

“He must have seen you leave City Hall,” Charlotte speculated in a whisper at the back door. “Why else would he show up so soon after you arrived?”

Archie sighed. “I confess I was hoping for more time, even the whole afternoon.”

Charlotte smiled. “I'm so pleased for you about the new position.”

“It's the first step,” he said. “Now I just need you to promise to take your first step.”

She shrugged, barely putting breath behind her words. “I'll try. But Mrs. Banning is still quite flustered about Miss Emmaline snatching Henry. I don't honestly know if she would help me. When she finds out I've kept a secret—well, it's all so frightening.”

Penard cleared his throat loudly from across the room.

“Tomorrow is your day off,” Archie whispered. “Meet me at Mickey's shop at six o'clock. No one there can object to our being together.”