The Harrison: A Beautiful Place to Die (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 2) (4 page)

“I will contact you if I hear anything tonight, even if it is late, I will get word to you. Otherwise, I propose that we meet again in the Sixth Street café in two days at six.”

“I will try and bring Rosa with me, if she is well enough,” said Louie.

They said their good-byes and Madeline watched him walk away with his eyes downcast to the street, and his shoulders slumped. She imagined the fear that must be taking hold of him and hoped she was able to find something out that would lead her to Maria.

Father was not home yet, and she wished she had someone to discuss all that had transpired. She decided she would write to Hugh. She gathered her writing materials at the window seat and began to write.

June 8, 1889

Dear Hugh,

I look forward to hearing from you soon and am anxious to know if you and the aunts have considered my offer to come and stay at Christmas-time.

Although I still have no storefront for my business, I do have my first client, and from the most unlikely of sources, my father. A brother and sister came to dinner the other night and told me of the disappearance of their sister, who was visiting from New York. I believe she is in danger and have begun my investigation at a hotel built near my home. This story has a curious twist as I have also learned that there are several other inquiries made about missing young women. Of course, the first thing I thought of was it possible that there is someone preying on young girls, as Jack had done. As of yet, though, there have been no murders reported. Yesterday, however, a deceased woman was found at the stockyards. It is unknown whether this was an accident, by suicide or by foul means that she died.

I wish you were here so that I could once again have your counsel on these matters and had your steady on demeanor quiet my mind.

She continued her letter describing her meeting with Marilyn and Nancy and her planned trip to McVicker’s Theater. She would write to Jonathan Franks, her friend, ally, and reporter at the New York Times, later in the day and inform him also of these mysterious disappearances.

Louie had brought her additional photographs of Maria. She placed them in her satchel and prepared herself for her night at the theater.

“It’s been a long day, Madeline. I will enjoy our time together. If we hurry, perhaps we will have time to dine,” said her father.

“That would be wonderful, Father.”

It was considered compulsory that the shoulder's of women’s evening gowns show the shoulders and cut so that they revealed the bosom of a woman. It had been quite a while since Madeline had worn her provocative dark red gown, but being accompanied by her father gave her the comfort level she needed to present herself in society in such attire.

“Madeline, how beautiful you look! My darling girl has returned. It should not have taken the search for Miss Maria to bring you back to life. You must insert yourself back into the social world again. You have taken such steps forward these last few months. I hope to see you enjoying the theater again soon, and without you father, but with a male admirer.”

“I have thought about it, Father, but not just yet. Perhaps if Hugh or Jonathan were here, I would have been tempted. I am all right. If it is to happen, it must not be forced. Besides, it adds intrigue to our evening out together, to be pursuing leads in my case.”

Their carriage arrived at McVicker’s Theater on a moonless night. The air was warm and inviting, and the noise of the city was pervasive, making her feel a sudden excitement in the moment.

William Shakespeare’s
The Tempest
was the event scheduled. She had longed to see this play, but now the circumstances that had brought her there had changed her plans just to immerse herself in the ambiance and beauty of the theater. After the Chicago fire of 1871, Louis Sullivan, the great architect, had designed it to resemble an Athenian temple. Its atmosphere was breathtaking, with a myriad of ornamental columns, and at least a dozen mythological creatures painted on the walls. Stenciled glass windows decorated the large auditorium. It was an attraction that lured the city’s visitors, and Madeline believed Maria may have ventured to its captivating arms.

“Father, I would like to wait to be seated and mingle in the foyer for a bit. I'd like to show Maria’s picture to the staff.”

“I will have a glass of wine while I wait for you. I see Dr. Hill and his family. I think I will go over and pay my regards. I will wait for you at the main entrance,” he replied.

She spoke to any employee who would give her a minute of their time, but they were scurrying about and reluctant to give her photo more than just a cursory glance. Then she approached an older man, with thick white hair parted in the middle of his head, and puffy reddish cheeks.

“Excuse me, sir. I wonder if you might look at this photograph. This young lady, Maria, has been missing these last few days, and her family believed she might have been here. I know you must meet so many people, but she is so striking, perhaps you remember her.”

He stopped and handled the picture gingerly in his wrinkled fingers before scratching  his head. He said nothing for a moment, then looked up at her and said, “Yes, I think it’s her. Yesterday—no, wait, the day before yesterday—a young lady came up to me that who was separated from her group of friends. She was quite frantic as she said she was not familiar with the area and was from out of town. New York, I think she said.”

“Yes, yes,” she interrupted him with a touch of his arm. “That must be her.”

“She stayed with me for quite a while, both of us watching for her three friends. I believe she said there were two ladies and a gentleman. We never saw them; she thanked me and said she would take a carriage home. I remember her saying she hoped she had enough money to pay the fare and looking worried. I don’t like to see a young girl alone without an escort, and I offered to accompany her if she waited till I was off duty—even told her I’d loan her the fare, but she would have none of it. She said if anyone inquired about her, to tell them she had returned to the hotel. After that, I remember seeing her leave through the main entrance and didn’t see her again,” said the gentleman.”

“You remember her specifically saying she would be returning to her hotel?”

“Yes. She didn’t give me the name, and I assumed they might be all staying there together and would know what she was referring to. I do hope the young woman is all right. She was a delightful girl.”

“Thank you, Mister…?”

“Sam Thompson, and may I ask your name?”

“Madeline Donovan,” she answered as she scrawled her contact information on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

“Please, if you should see her or if anyone inquires about her, I would appreciate it if you would let me know. It is of critical importance.”

“I will. I promise you I will.”

The theater bell chimed indicating the entrance doors were about to close. Madeline made her way back to her waiting father.

“I was beginning to think we would be locked out. I have not had the pleasure of going to the theater in a long time. I am looking forward to it,” said Dr. Donovan.

“Yes, I am happy we are here together,” said Madeline as she thought of Maria’s family, and the torment they must be going through.

Although a masterful work of art,
The Tempest
could not hold her attention, and Madeline found herself looking at every face that she could clearly see in the dimmed light of the theater. She knew it was a fruitless task, but she could not stop herself from staring, hoping to see someone who resembled Maria.

When they returned to the lobby during intermission, she said, “Father, one of the doormen believed he may have seen Maria. A small miracle no doubt, but I think it was her. She had become separated from her companions and said she would return to the hotel. Curious, don’t you think, that she said she would refer to a hotel instead of her sister’s home? The Harrison Hotel has become my focal point now. Something untoward must be going on there."

"I believe this endeavor to be a detective is filled with risks, and the prospect of finding out the information you need is like threading a needle with a piece of yarn—an impossible task. Perhaps you should rethink this matter.”

“If I can make a go of it, I will hire other females to help me, and perhaps even a man.”

Father laughed, and she took his arm as they reentered the theater.

Instead of enjoying the rest of the performance, her mind’s eye only saw young girls being pulled from their rooms or abducted in the street.

She felt in a rush to return home; kissing father good-night, she hurried to her room and her writing desk. Tomorrow she would return to the hotel, but tonight she would write to Jonathan and ask his opinion about what was happening so close to her home.

June 9, 1889

Dear Jonathan,

The most peculiar events have occurred over the last week. I have become employed by a family seeking my assistance to find their missing sister. While attempting to do so, I have discovered that several other ladies have been reported missing in the area as well. I wish you worked at one of the Chicago papers so that I could speak to you as we once did about Jack. I feel there must be a sinister presence that is connecting these disappearances. It seems unlikely to me that these missing women do not in some way have a direct link to each other.

She went on to ask his advice on what he might do and also requested that he write her soon. She hoped he would have reason at some point to be sent by the
Times
to her city.

Chapter Four

Felicia and Wanda

The morning found her with
a renewed spirit to revisit the hotel where all things seemed to converge.

Father had already left for his office when she came down for breakfast. Mrs. O'Malley smiled at her as she set her cup of tea down and said, “Miss, you had a visitor who came shortly after you left last night. Mr. Falco, the man from the other evening. He said it was important that he speak with you. He said he would be here before the noon hour.”

“Oh…I had planned an early morning trip, but now I suppose it will have to wait.”

“Did you enjoy the theater?”

“It proved a delight in every way. It was wonderful to be with Father. We have so seldom gone out together, and I may have gleaned some useful information pertaining to our missing Maria.”

“I’m sure your Mr. Falco will be happy to hear that.”

“Will you prepare a light lunch for us, Mrs. O'Malley? Nothing fancy, perhaps just some simple ham cuts and vegetables. That will do nicely.”

“Of course. Will there be anything else?”

“No, I think I will try to put some thoughts to paper, and see if I can organize a plan.”

She returned to her room, musing over what Louie had to see her about. Perhaps Maria had made contact with him. She hoped that was the case as she began writing in her journal. The Tribune had reported that the young lady's identification, found in the stockyards, was unknown. It was still undetermined by the police as to the manner of her death, and still no one had come forward to shed any light on the identity.

It was not quite eleven in the morning. While sitting at the bay window, she saw Louie, hurrying up the steps of their home.

“Come in, come in,” Madeline said. “Mrs. O'Malley told me of your intent. We have luncheon ready. I hope you will join us.”

“Thank you. I would enjoy a cup of hot coffee if you have it,” said Louie.

Mrs. O'Malley brought their refreshments to the dining area, and Louie pulled from his coat pocket several crumpled pieces of pink stationery.

“I wanted to bring these to you as soon as possible. I found these quite by accident in the inside of one of my sister’s books. I believe these may be the names of the two girls my sister had come in contact with. Rosa thinks she remembers hearing her say one of their names,” stated Louie.

“That is a good source. May I see them?” asked Madeline.

The ink was somewhat smudged, and it was difficult to be certain, but it appeared the names were
Felicia Zugaj
and
Wanda Gapinski.

“The names are clearer to read than the address, but perhaps someone in the area will be familiar with their names,” said Madeline. “I have to say I was hoping you had some good news and perhaps had heard from Maria.”

“If only that were true, I would not be in the state I am. I’m sure you’ve noticed I have not been well. As each day passes, and we do not hear from her, I grow more alarmed. I cannot sleep and find myself walking the streets near the hotel hoping to see her.”

“I do understand your concern. I too believe her disappearance may have something to do with her being at the Harrison. These names, however, could prove very useful. How is Rosa holding up?”

“She is frantic. She also has spent time in every corner store and speaking to people in the street. The police have finally declared Maria, a missing person but do not give us much hope in resolving anything soon. They say there has been a rash of young girls reported missing. The only information that gives me hope is that he said most of the females were blondes, and of course, Maria is black haired.”

“Well, certainly something is terribly amiss if they have given you such information. Did they say anything else?”

“No, he seemed reluctant to even give me that much information.”

“I can see if Father can give you something for your nerves if you like, and I can assure you I will spend the rest of this day searching for clues. I will also see if I can find anything about the girls mentioned in your sister’s note.”

“Yes, I can come by this evening when your father is at home. Perhaps something for sleep, if he could do that for me, I would appreciate it.”

“I will see you this evening, and I hope I will have some news for you.”

She called to Mrs. O'Malley that she would be at the Harrison Hotel and that she would not return until the dinner hour at six. She hurried from her home as if someone was chasing her, feeling compelled to hasten her footsteps in her newfound pursuit of the girls Wanda and Felicia.

She had a partial address for Felicia. The words looked hurriedly written and read
Felicia Zugaj
Hern-Goose
. Being unfamiliar with the area, Madeline assumed Maria had meant to write Huron. Her neighborhood, including Huron Street, was named Goose Island. For Wanda, there was no indication of a street address. Most of the area consisted of Polish and Italian immigrants, with a smattering of others, like herself from a variety of places. She decided to would walk to Huron Street first before going to the Harrison.

She began knocking on doors, hoping to find someone who knew the Zugaj family.  People were friendly in Chicago and usually were not only aware who their neighbors were, but knew all the gossip about them and would congregate in little huddles to talk about them.

There was one such group sweeping the streets, laughing and speaking in broken English and Polish. Four gray-haired women, with plain day dresses, were gathered together on Huron.

“Excuse me, ladies, I am looking for the home of a friend of mine. She told me her address, but I have lost it, though I know her family lives on Huron. Would you know the Zugaj family?”

There was a flurry of talk in Polish among them, which she did not understand, but she did realize that the name of Zugaj had caused them all to react.

A portly woman with kind eyes spoke, “Yes, yes, Felicia. We know her. Her family has been most unhappy these days. Felicia cannot be found.”

Madeline was startled by her words and said, “She is missing! How terrible. I am also looking for a young lady who has gone missing, and her family is in great distress.”

The older lady took her hand and said, “Yes, it is terrible news. We are all looking for our little Felicia. We would see her walk by all the time, always a kind word. I will take you to her house, but her mother is not good, but maybe if I go with you, she will speak to you.”

The group of ladies followed behind them, continuing to chatter in elevated nervous voices.

“We have all been very worried. We think something may have happened to her. She would not be the one not to speak to her Mama. I am Mrs. Grotski,” she continued as she shook Madeline’s hand. Mrs. Grotski introduced her other friends and Madeline politely exchanged pleasantries, but her mind was whirling with this news of another missing girl and could barely keep up with any of the conversation.

“This is it, dear,” said the lady who said her name was Elsie Posninski. “She may not talk much; she is in a bad way these days.”

“I can understand that. Perhaps just a few questions,” said Madeline.

Elsie knocked several times, but no one came to the door. This time, she leaned over the stair railing and tapped on the window.

“Cecilia, it’s me, Elsie. I have a visitor, and we would like to speak with you.”

After a few minutes, they could hear rustling and a drawn looking portly woman, with a stained apron that existed over her dark blue dress, said, “Come in…come in. I will be no good company, but sit. I have coffee brewing, and I will get some for us.”

Elsie shook her head in empathy for her friend Cecilia. “If it were my daughter that was missing, I’d look the same or worse. I just don’t understand it; this is a good neighborhood. Everywhere, you can find a helping hand and a friendly face.”

“I know. I don’t recall anything like this happening before, either. It is strange and gives everyone cause for worry,” said Madeline.

Cecilia returned to the room with a tray of demitasse cups and a silver pitcher of coffee. She was clutching a lace handkerchief in her hand, and periodically stopped to wipe her eyes.

“My Felicia’s been now been gone two days. She and her friend, Wanda had gone out for the evening. I believe she said they were going downtown for supper. She said she wasn’t certain what time she would be home, but that it would be before midnight, as she had worked the next day.

"We asked all of her friends and people at work, but no one has heard from her. All the police said is that they will send someone out to look for her. They said not to worry, as these situations almost always turn out all right, with the girls showing up at a friend's or relative’s house.

"I know it is the worse. Felicia and Wanda would not wander off. It is the worse,” she said again, her voice trailing off and her hands going to her face.

Elsie put her arm around Cecilia, trying to comfort the woman, but she was not able to do so.

"If you will wait here, I will get Mrs. Gapinski. She lives right around the corner," said Elsie.

Madeline offered some hope as she said, “I have been employed to seek the whereabouts of another young lady, and I shall look for your girl as well. I promise I will do all I can to help.”

When Mrs. Gapinski arrived Madeline, she retold the story.

Mrs. Gapinski pleaded, "Please...please do what you can to find our daughters. We have done what we can, but we have no money and the police do nothing."

With that, Mrs. Gapinski began to weep.

“I will stay with them,” said Elsie.

“Yes, I will go. Here, this is my contact information,” Madeline said as she hastily wrote down her information on a corner of a newspaper in Cecilia’s home.

Things were going in the wrong direction. Not only did she not have any concrete clues to Maria’s whereabouts, but more girls had now gone missing. Madeline wiped her brow from the summer’s heat, and found she was not only flushed from warmth, but her left hand was shaking. This new development meant some menacing presence had drifted into their once-quiet neighborhood, and she felt a shiver of fear run through her.

She was walking back in the direction of the hotel when she saw the familiar face of her dear Uncle Hank. He was speaking with some similar-clad men, all with dirt-stained shirts, and wet, slick backs. He was wringing a grungy hat in his hands and speaking with a wild arm waving to one of the men.

She called out to him, but he did not hear her. He began walking, and she hurried to meet up with him.

“Uncle Hank, wait! It’s me, Madeline.”

He finally turned, smiling and looking embarrassed about his appearance.

“Madeline, I was planning to come up for a visit once I got myself cleaned up. I hope you don’t mind me,” he said, trying to brush off some of the grit from his trousers.

“I’ve been out looking for Maria and have found out some startling facts. It’s good to see a friendly face.”

“I’ve found something out just this morning, and it's not good news.”

“What is it?” she said, as she peered at his downturned face.

“I’d hardly like to be the one to tell you. I was coming home from work, taking my time, just walking, slow as I could be, stopping to talk to the street vendors, when I come across a crowd of folks in the street. Some of them were crying and carrying on, so I went up to see what the fuss was all about.

There she was…a sight I never want to see again.”

Uncle Hank stopped speaking for a moment, his eyes not meeting hers. Madeline touched his shoulder and said, “Please go on. Oh…please, go on. Is it all that terrible?”

“They were all gathered around a young lady who was run over by a carriage. She just lay there, broken, not moving. Some ladies were crying, and the men were all yelling.

Madeline, I think it was Maria—the Maria you were looking for. I have her picture and have watched for her as you asked, and I do think it was her.”

“No, it can’t be. Perhaps you’re wrong.”

“I suppose I could be. Will you go to Maxwell and find out?”

“Yes, I had planned to return home, but now I will go straight there first. This is the most upsetting news, Uncle Hank. When you arrive home, will you please tell Mrs. O'Malley that I've been detained?”

“Of course I will. I never heard of nothing like this going on before. Are you sure you will be safe?”

“There is still daylight for another hour or so. I should be home by dusk.”

She watched Uncle Hank walk away; hoping that the news he brought her was not true. She had secured a carriage and was bumping along the uneven road, watching the city go about its business, perhaps most of them were not aware there was reason to fear the evil that had set itself on Erie Street.

She sat in the Maxwell Street Station for over an hour, waiting to speak to someone. This time, she had written confirmation from Louie Falco that she was able to represent the family. When she finally was able to speak to Officer Parsons, he confirmed that they believed it was Maria.