A Gilded Grave (11 page)

D
eanna stopped to look out to the ocean. She wanted to turn back toward the house to see if Joe was gone but was afraid that he’d still be there and would know that she’d looked for him.

“You have a wicked turn of mind, my girl.”

Deanna nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Lord David’s voice.

“You startled me.”

“I can see that I did. What are you doing, looking down on the scene of tragedy?”

“Was I?” Deanna said innocently. Of course she was. She’d wanted to see the place in the daylight, but she hadn’t figured out how to leisurely make her way there until Joe had fortuitously appeared and distracted everyone. Besides, Cassie knew Deanna wanted to avoid him, and would explain as much to the others. So she was not a little annoyed that Lord David had interrupted her before she had memorized the scene.

But she had seen enough to be certain that, if Daisy had slipped, she wouldn’t have fallen all the way to the boulder where she’d been discovered. She would have to have taken a flying leap or been pushed. An extremely strong push. It was just as she’d told Will. It looked like someone had thrown her over.

“If you’ve satisfied your curiosity, Cassie sent me to tell you that luncheon is being served.” He smiled as if they had a secret. “Cassie has dismissed your—am I wrong to say?—your undesired swain.”

Deanna laughed. “Really, Lord David. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you do, my cunning young lady. I hope you’re not flirting with me just to make him jealous.”

“I don’t flirt,” Deanna said before she could stop herself. The idea that she was flirting with him brought the color to her cheeks.

“Of course not. Come, let us dine on cold lobster and
salad.” He offered his arm and Deanna took it. She enjoyed their walk back to the house. She was just sorry that Joe wasn’t there to see it.

They stopped by her chair to retrieve her drawing book. Lord David playfully tugged the book from her hands. She grabbed for it.

“Now, now. Let’s see what you’ve been drawing while we were at play.”

“Really, Lord David, you don’t want—” No longer feeling playful, she made a grab for the notebook. He turned the page.

“Very nice.” He cut her an expressive smile. “It seems I need a haircut.” He turned the page for her to see. She’d captured several sketches of him, and Maddie, too.

“That’s quite enough. Please give that back to me.”

“Just a few more.” He turned the page.

Deanna stilled.

“Well, what have we here? Is this what the poor girl looked like down on the rocks? You’ll remember I wasn’t on the scene until after our intrepid Vlad discovered the body.”

“I—”

“You are a strange creature.” He smiled his most charming smile. “And I mean that in the best possible way.” He handed the notebook back to her. “Our little secret.”

Deanna hugged her notebook under her arm. Why hadn’t she gotten to it first? If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with what Joe would think, she wouldn’t have let that happen. What would Lord David think of her sketching pictures that belonged in the
Police Gazette
? Her mother would be furious.

They started back to the house. “You should give Maddie some pointers on drawing. I’m afraid she can’t manage the difference between a horse and a dog. Proportion is the problem.”

“Are you disparaging my artistic ability?” Maddie said from where she was “artistically” draped on a chaise lounge.

“Deplorable, sis dear.”

Maddie sighed. “Alas, he’s right. My needlepoint and embroidery are even worse. And please, please, for your own sake, never ask me to play the harp.”

Deanna smiled. She wished she could be that carefree about the accomplishments young ladies were expected to have. Madeline Manchester might not be accomplished in the arts, but at least she got to travel and see the world. Someone like Lady Madeline wouldn’t have to get her adventures out of books.

As soon as luncheon was over, Charles and Lord David left for the Reading Room, a place where, everyone knew, men drank, smoked cigars, and napped, but did very little reading. Vlad and Herbert took their leave soon afterward. Maddie and Cassie went upstairs to dress for their obligatory afternoon carriage ride. Deanna excused herself to write letters.

“Oh, come on, Dee,” Cassie said. “Your mother isn’t even here.”

“I know, but with all the parties and events, I’m behind in my correspondence.”

Cassie sighed loudly. “Her mother is a gorgon. Even when she isn’t here.”

For once Deanna was happy to use her mother as an excuse. “And she expressly told me not to neglect my duties.” She smiled slyly, something she was proud of perfecting. “I’ll get them all done while you’re out and then I’ll be free to play.”

Cassie would have argued but Madeline pulled her away. “Let her get her duties out of the way. We have so many things planned for the week.” The two young women went off arm in arm toward their rooms, and Deanna felt a momentary
pang of conscience. She had no intention of spending the afternoon writing letters. She had another obligation to fulfill.

Well, maybe not an obligation. To be absolutely truthful, she
wanted
to search Daisy’s room.

Elspeth turned from the window when Deanna entered her bedroom.

“Heavens, have you been standing there since I left?”

“I thought you’d never come, miss. I was about to go without you.”

“Don’t even think of acting without me. It might be dangerous.”

Elspeth’s eyes widened.

“Oh, I don’t mean something physically harmful, just that you might get caught.”

“I have permission to gather Daisy’s possessions.”

“But not to snoop around looking for evidence. Which I know you’ll do.”

“I have to do something.”

“And we will. But carefully.”

“And what happens if
you
get caught in the servants’ quarters?”

“I’ll say I had to come looking for my awful, disobedient maid who will answer none of my calls.”

Elspeth grinned and started across the room, where she opened the door a crack and peered out into the hallway.

“It’s empty. Hurry.” Elspeth brushed through the opening of the door; Deanna pulled her skirts together and followed her.

Elspeth was already speeding silently down the corridor toward the back of the house and the servants’ staircase. Without looking back to make sure Deanna was following, she opened the door and disappeared. Deanna followed right behind.

The staircase was narrow and poorly lit. If they met anyone, they would have to pass practically nose to nose. And how
would
Deanna explain being here? She crossed her fingers and followed close on Elspeth’s heels.

Two flights later, when Deanna was beginning to feel out of breath, Elspeth stopped, again put her finger to her lips, and cracked the door to look out. She motioned for Deanna to follow.

They stepped out into another hallway, perpendicular to the main hallway below. The floors were wooden and there were doors leading off to each side. There was a single window at the end, and Elspeth hurried toward it. When she was two doors from the end, she stopped, turned the knob on one, and stuck her head inside, then followed it in. Deanna crowded in behind her.

They were in a tiny gabled space, smaller than Deanna’s dressing room. Two painted iron beds stood against opposite walls. A washstand flanked by two small chests of drawers stood between. One side of the room was completely unoccupied, but on the other a summer coat hung on a hook and a photograph of a family was tacked above the bed.

“Is this where you’re staying?” Deanna asked.

“No, miss. I’m a floor below in the nicer rooms, since I’m a lady’s maid.” Elspeth sniffed. “Daisy got extra duties and they didn’t even give her a better room. It wasn’t fair.”

Deanna placed her hand on Elspeth’s shoulder. “Courage,” she said quietly. They would both need it.

Elspeth nodded. “The girl who shared the room with her was afraid to stay here by herself and moved in with two of the other maids, so we won’t be interrupted.”

She opened the first drawer. They both leaned over and peered at the contents.

It became obvious right away that they should have brought
a valise in which to carry things away, but when Deanna mentioned this to Elspeth, the maid merely lifted the coat from the hook, spread it across the bed, and piled Daisy’s few belongings on top.

It was a sad testament to a life spent in hard work and a future cut off by some villainous creature.

Elspeth cleaned out the top two drawers and piled them on the coat. Chemises, cotton stockings, a faded skirt with tiny blue flowers. A change of undergarments made of coarse muslin that made Deanna’s skin itch at the thought of wearing them.

And she felt a surge of guilt for being so spoiled.

Elspeth knelt down to open the bottom drawer. It was harder to open and scraped as she pulled it out. A pair of shoes and a small painted box were the only things it contained. Elspeth carried the box to the bed and sat down, then looked up at Deanna.

“Open it,” Deanna said. Inside was a corsage dried between a folded piece of waxed paper, a seashell broken on one side, a roll of paper, a nub of a pencil, and two envelopes.

Deanna sat down beside Elspeth and waited while Elspeth unrolled the paper. The first page contained two rows of letters, one in a decent print, the second less perfected.

Elspeth bit back a sob. “She was practicing her alphabet. Orrin told her it was important to read and write.” She shoved the rest at Deanna and groped for her handkerchief.

Deanna looked through the rest of the paper but it was all blank. She looked inside the envelopes. Empty. Had the envelope Vlady had found in Daisy’s hand come from here? What had been in it if she could hardly read or write?

Elspeth closed the drawer, and Deanna returned the few treasures to the box. “Maybe Orrin would like to have this.”

Elspeth took the box and added it to the pile of clothes on the bed. Her tears dropped silently on the dead girl’s paltry possessions.

Deanna sighed and looked around at the bare room. “Should we pack up the blanket and pillow?”

“No, miss. They belong to the house. But where are the books you said I could loan her so one of the other girls could help her read them? She liked the poor-working-girl stories best. Like Cinderella, she said.”

Those stories were Deanna’s least favorite; the ones where the hardworking girl overcame a villainous master to find true love and riches. But maybe they had meant the world to Daisy. Elspeth, too.

“She always returned them. Kept them real neat, she did.”

“Maybe she loaned them to one of the other maids.”

“She would never.” Elspeth looked around the empty room. She and Deanna both looked at the pillow at the same time. Deanna often stuck things under her pillow at home when her mother or Adelaide knocked at the door. She lifted it off the bed. “Nothing.” She replaced it on the mattress.

Elspeth dropped to her knees and looked under the bed. Sat back on her heels and shook her head.

“The mattress,” Deanna said.

She knelt next to Elspeth and together they lifted the thin pallet mattress. Sitting on the frame was a flat paper parcel. Deanna lifted it out while Elspeth held the mattress up. Then they both sat back down on the bed.

Deanna slid the cheap paper books out of the paper. On top was
The Pointing Finger.
Deanna remembered it from several months ago. The second novel’s cover was missing.

“Oh, dear,” Elspeth said.

“No matter. The books are so cheap, it probably fell off.”

“No, miss. She was ever so careful. She told me she’d pretend like she was one of the girls in those stories. It was like having a magic door to somewhere special. Feels that way to me, too.”

And to me
, thought Deanna.

“She took good care of them. Not even a tear or a dog-eared page when she returned them.”

“Well, it makes no matter now.” Deanna returned them to the bag and placed the bag on the top of the other belongings.

Elspeth handed them back to Deanna. “No, miss. She wouldn’t want to keep something that weren’t hers.”

Deanna reluctantly took the package and watched while Elspeth neatly tied up the bundle. “What are we going to do with it until we can return it to Daisy’s mother?”

“We can leave it in my room. It’s right downstairs.”

“Will it be safe there?”

Elspeth gave her a sad smile. “Who would want it, miss?”

“I don’t know, but I think we should keep it in my dressing room.”

Elspeth nodded but insisted on carrying the bundle herself, and Deanna, grasping the package of books, followed uselessly behind. They stopped at the door and Elspeth peered down the stairs. “All clear.”

They had just passed the entrance to the second floor when Elspeth sucked in a startled cry.

Deanna froze. Before them stood the largest, blackest man Deanna had ever seen. He was standing on the steps beneath them and yet he towered above them. A giant with massive muscles, a gold hoop hanging from one ear, and totally bald.

Deanna’s mouth went dry. He was dressed in black livery, but in the dim light his stance, his eyes, and his demeanor all cried “savage.”

Elspeth stepped back into Deanna, and Deanna fell against the wall.

He tilted his head slowly, then bowed slightly. “Ladies.” His voice, deep and hollow, rumbled as if drawn from a cavernous pit and sent chills up Deanna’s arms.

Elspeth let out a whimper and ran.

D
eanna wanted to run, was tempted to scramble screaming after Elspeth. But she wouldn’t let her dignity slip. This must be the manservant Swan she had heard about. And he was everything she’d been told and more.

Praying that he wouldn’t crush her with one blow, or put a curse on her, she took her skirt in hand and gracefully—as gracefully as one could manage with knocking knees—went down the stairs, followed by reverberating quiet laughter.

Elspeth had waited for her, but as soon as Deanna reached the second floor, she yanked Deanna into the hallway and slammed the door. The hall was empty and quiet, but Deanna was sure she could still hear that abominable laughing. Both girls grabbed their skirts and ran until they were safely inside Deanna’s room.

“Do you think he’ll tell?” Elspeth asked.

Deanna shrugged. “I don’t think so. You have every right
to be in the servants’ area. And he hasn’t seen me before. Maybe he’ll think I was just another servant girl.”

Elspeth wrinkled her brow.

“Well, it’s possible.”

“Do you think he’ll put a curse on us?”

“Of course not. Though he does look just like the witch doctor from
Lord Winston and the Black Death of Voodoo
.”

Elspeth moaned. “I told you.”

“Not to worry. Lord David wouldn’t keep him as a servant if he put curses on everybody.”

This rationale seemed to assuage Elspeth’s worst fears. But not Deanna’s. She didn’t think Swan could put curses on anybody, but he had a look about him that frightened her. She wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was just because he was so different. Deanna shook herself.

He’s just a servant, and I probably won’t see him again.

Elspeth carried Daisy’s bundle into the dressing room; when she didn’t come right back, Deanna put the novels down and went to see what was keeping her.

Elspeth was sitting on a bench, the bundle in her lap. “This is all that’s left of her. It’s just like nothing happened,” she cried. “Your life goes on with your parties and dinners and fine houses and carriages. Them out playing games on the lawn when Daisy died just a few steps away. They didn’t even think about her, did they?”

“I don’t know about the others,” Deanna said. “But I did.”

Elspeth sniffed and fumbled in her apron pocket for a handkerchief. “I didn’t mean you.”

But she did. Deanna knew that in most ways she was no different than the others out there, taking their entitled lives for granted, everything around them extravagant and
expensive. No wonder Mark Twain had called this the Gilded Age . . . but only for a select few.

Elspeth’s and Daisy’s families and others like theirs struggled every day to make ends meet. Although she was sure Joe was as generous with Orrin as possible, Deanna had no idea what Elspeth was paid.

Deanna sighed. “If Will Hennessey doesn’t get to the bottom of this soon, you and I will. Now put Daisy’s belongings away and come out so we can think.”

Deanna sat at the Sheraton writing desk and opened her sketchpad. It wouldn’t hurt to write some things down. But she stopped at the picture of Daisy lying on the rocks. She had died only two days ago, and already Deanna was forgetting details. Was the drawing missing something? The envelope. Vlady had found it in Daisy’s hand. He hadn’t said which hand or if it were crumpled or sealed. Did it matter? She’d have to ask Vlad when she saw him next.

She heard Elspeth come back into the room, and she quickly turned to a blank page.

“Come sit by me,” Deanna said. “Let’s get our thoughts organized.”

Elspeth sat and stared at the paper while Deanna wrote
Woodruff Ball
. She left out her speculation about the discovery of Daisy’s body. She’d go back and put that in when Elspeth wasn’t around.

“Do you know if Will questioned everyone in the servants’ hall?”

Elspeth shrugged. “He just asked everyone’s whereabouts and when was the last time anyone saw Daisy.”

“Who was the last to see her?”

“It was me, I guess,” Elspeth said. “But I didn’t tell him
that. I didn’t want to get Daisy in trouble for showing me the oriel window.”

“But Daisy is past worrying about,” Deanna told her gently.

“Still, I didn’t want to put a mark against her.”

Deanna wondered how many of the other servants were holding out on the police for similar reasons. And if no one spoke, how was Will to ever find the murderer?

“I think it’s important to tell Will. If you were the last person to see her alive and if we can figure out that time—and what time Vlady found her—we’ll have a better idea of when she died.” Deanna tapped her pencil to her cheek. “And if you weren’t the last to see her, we need to know who was.”

“And what if the murderer turns out to be one of the rich folks? They’ll never arrest him, and they’ll keep Orrin in jail forever.”

“No, they won’t. Father says the new mayor is an Irishman, and I’m sure he won’t put up with favoritism.” She said this with more assurance than she actually felt. She wasn’t sure the new mayor would even care.

“So you and Daisy were watching the dance . . .” she coaxed.

“Yes. And you looked so beautiful. And Daisy said it ought be Mr. Joseph down there dancing with you, but we didn’t see him anywhere.”

Was Joe gone by then?

“And then what happened?”

“Like I told you. Daisy looked over the edge and then suddenly got up and said she had to go.”

“Why?”

“She didn’t say, but she’d seemed fine, then all of a sudden she got upset. She sounded real urgent—but not like she was
going to kill herself. At first I was afraid she’d been seen, she was leaning out so far.”

Deanna nodded.
Or she had seen something.
“Can you remember what time it was when you went to watch?”

“Well, it was soon after we arrived, because Daisy said that would be our best chance. You know, before we’d be needed to redo hair and adjust dresses and things.”

Deanna closed her eyes. They’d arrived at the ball around ten. They hadn’t gone outside until after supper and more dancing, which would put the time at two o’clock or later.

She counted on her fingers. “Four hours. Approximately.”

“What is?”

“The time between when you last saw Daisy and when we . . . found her. Except . . .”

“What, miss?”

“It doesn’t help much, but Lady Madeline tore her hem and was looking for Daisy right after supper.”

“So?”

“She couldn’t find her. You fixed her hem, remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Elspeth said indignantly. “You think Daisy was already dead then?”

Deanna sighed. “I have no idea. But it gives us another piece to the conundrum. We need to find out if anyone else saw her during those times. Then we’ll have a better idea of when she—when it happened.”

“Oh.”

“That way, if we can find out where everyone was during that time, we’ll narrow down the possible killers.”

“But what if it was a stranger who killed her, then ran away? It’ll be hopeless.”

Deanna shut her sketchbook. “Then we can just sit here and wring our hands and do nothing.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that.” Elspeth reached over and opened the sketchbook. “Ask me something else.”

Deanna picked up her pencil. She wasn’t quite sure what to ask, but she thought it would help lift Elspeth’s spirits to think they were doing something to help. “Would Daisy have been enlisted to work in the kitchen for such a large affair?”

“No, miss. The Woodruffs hired out for extra waiters. She would’ve been upstairs straightening up the withdrawing rooms while everyone was at dinner, then readying the bedchambers for the night. I know Miss Cassie’s maid was to go fetch her if Lady Madeline needed her. But I never saw her come down after the one time. Never saw her again at all.” Elspeth sighed.

“Hmm.” If Daisy had been needed for Lady Madeline in addition to following her usual routine, she should have been upstairs for most of the time in question. Except that she wasn’t; she’d been on the cliff walk, about to die. Deanna shuddered. Why had Daisy gone there? Who had she been meeting?

Will Hennessey would never have access to the information he needed to make an informed inquiry. The cottagers put up with him, but they wouldn’t help him. He was polished and educated, but he wasn’t—and would never be—one of them. Not even their servants would cooperate.

Deanna and Elspeth could learn things he couldn’t.

“Elspeth, do you think you could ask around—innocently, just conversationally—and find out who else saw Daisy? They might not want to talk to the police, but I bet with a little persuading they wouldn’t mind gossiping with you.”

“I suppose. You don’t think it would dishonor Daisy’s memory?”

“No, I think Daisy would want whoever killed her to be caught. And punished.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

“I’ll dress for dinner now, and then write some letters so I won’t be found to be a total liar. And you can take a half day tomorrow to go visit Orrin and see if he needs anything. Find out if he has any ideas about why Daisy was out on the cliff walk.”

Daisy went to prepare Deanna’s evening clothes, and Deanna sat down to write her letter.

Dear Mama—

I hope that you and Adelaide arrived safely in Boston and that Adelaide was not too ill from the trip.

Everything here is fine . . .

J
oe pulled the tie from his neck and tossed it over the back of a chair. He’d spent a trying day. Orrin was still in jail despite Joe’s efforts to convince the chief of police to let him out on bail; they were both unwilling to rock the boat. They weren’t even willing to let Joe see Orrin. He could only hope that his grandmother came through on her promise to talk with the mayor.

He’d had a nasty run-in with Officer Crum, who seemed to have appointed himself Joe’s personal nemesis. The only reason it hadn’t come to blows was that Crum had been restrained by several men on the force. Joe had no doubt he’d be back to settle the altercation.

And he hadn’t managed to get Deanna out of town or even to speak to her.

He needed to keep a clear head, not to let his emotions cloud his judgment. There were underhanded dealings going on in R and W Sugar Refineries. He’d visited the plants three times over the winter. Production was steady, but there was an increase in minor breakdowns, accidents, and shipping problems that couldn’t be explained away. Nothing big enough for outright accusations of sabotage, but definitely too significant to be coincidence. There were spies and saboteurs working at both plants.

There had been several attempted break-ins at his workshop as well. He’d had to hire some local men to keep an eye on it.

He knew who was behind it: H. O. Havemeyer.

The Sugar Trust had been ruthless with its other competitors. If they couldn’t buy you out, they cheated you or burned your factory down. Though none of it had been proven so far; nothing had been done about it at all.

Havemeyer had powerful friends in Washington. His chief supporter was Nelson Aldrich, the senator from right here in Rhode Island, even though not a single sugar refinery existed here. That alone was enough to raise red flags. But no one had. At least not yet. Joe was determined to stop Havemeyer from overtaking R and W, but first he needed to find out who in R and W was selling them out. And how high up the conspiracy went.