She stepped to the door and glanced around. The room had two gleaming porcelain sinks fitted with shiny brass faucets. It was impeccably clean. She retreated and headed for the closet at the other end of the room. When she opened it, the scent of roses grew stronger.
The beautiful clothing was a pleasure to touch, but Lily pushed the dresses to the side to allow in enough light to see. She found the wrap hanging on a hook, but when she took it down, it fell to the floor. She grabbed at it and dislodged a small flat box on one of the shelves along the back. The lid fell off, and when she knelt to retrieve the box, she caught a glimpse of blue.
She carried the box out into the light where she could see it better. The missing butterfly lay nestled in silk inside. She gasped, and her throat tightened. Mr. Marshall had had the butterfly all along, yet he’d blamed Jane for its disappearance.
She glanced around the room and realized there was another closet. After laying the box on the bed, she went to the door and opened it. It contained only men’s clothing. She stared back at the butterfly. That meant
Mrs. Marshall
had taken the butterfly and
hidden it from her husband. Why would she do that when he was searching for it so frantically?
She went back to the bed and picked up the butterfly in its box. What should she do about this?
If she took it and returned it to Mr. Marshall, it would be her word against Mrs. Marshall’s as to where it was found. She could replace it, then send him a note telling him where it was. But would he think someone had implicated his wife on purpose?
She rubbed her head. If only Drew were here to help her figure out what to do.
The floorboards outside the door creaked, and she whirled around. “Hello?” Her voice shook, and she clutched the box in her hands. No answer. Maybe it was just the house shifting.
The clock on the bedside dinged the time. Nine thirty. Mr. Marshall would be wondering where she was. What if she hid the butterfly in her room? No one would look there, and she could tell Emily what she’d found. It would be corroboration.
Her mind made up, she opened the door. A figure loomed from the shadows, and her gaze traveled up the male suit to the man’s face. “Mr. Lambreth, you frightened me. What are you doing here?”
He was smiling when his gaze traveled to the box in her hand. “I told Mother you were too smart and would be sure to find it. I love being right.”
His tone was deceptively mild, and Lily relaxed until his words penetrated. “You knew Mrs. Marshall took this?”
“Actually, I took it. She just hid it.”
“But why?”
“She knew it would rattle Everett, and he would be easily disposed of.”
“
You
killed Mrs. Karr, not Jane.”
“She caught me taking the butterfly. She wasn’t my type, but I had no choice.”
She backed away as he approached, then whirled and rushed back into the bedroom she’d just vacated. She tried to slam the door, but his foot came between the door and the jamb. Struggling, she tried to hold the door closed, but he was too strong for her and the door flew open. She staggered back and fell onto the floor.
He loomed over her. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, Lily. I really did like you.”
She edged away. “And the attack in the churchyard? Was that you? Why in a holy place?”
“I was having trouble getting to you, so it was expedient.” He heaved a sigh. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be disposed of. I’d hoped you’d be different. You’re just like my mother, so sweet and pretty on the outside and quite wanton on the inside. I saw the way you kissed Hawkes, you know. Like you couldn’t get enough of him. My mother can’t get enough of men either. Come along and don’t make a fuss.”
She opened her mouth to scream, but he leaped forward and pressed some horrible-smelling cloth to her nose. His face wavered, then her vision went dark.
T
he party tempo increased when Everett’s election win was announced. Drew kept an eye out for Lily, but she still hadn’t returned by ten o’clock. Something was wrong.
He wound his way through the celebrating crowd to find Belle. “Have you seen Lily?”
Belle’s cheeks were pink with excitement. “I haven’t seen her. Isn’t it wonderful though?”
“Splendid. Where’s your aunt?”
“Oh, she’s around somewhere, I’m sure. Any sign of an attack on Uncle Everett?”
“It’s been calm.” Drew spied a familiar figure. “If you see Lily, tell her I’m looking for her.” He circled around the hall to intercept Ian, who seemed to be heading for the door.
“Wait up, Ian.”
Ian stopped by the punch bowl. “You seem to have everything under control here. Well done, Drew.”
“What about the conspirators? Have they made a move elsewhere yet?”
Ian shook his head. “I’ve gotten word Vesters called it off last night. He didn’t want to bring any more attention to Jane’s story. He feared Marshall’s death would bring more focus on the family.”
“Nice of you to let me know. You’ve disappointed me, Ian. I respected you and looked up to you like a father.”
Ian put his hand on Drew’s arm. “Son, it was nothing personal. I was looking out for my country.”
Drew stared at the hand on his arm until Ian removed it. “You let me believe a lie. It’s shaken my confidence.”
“I’m sorry for that.” Ian’s gaze was level. “Ballard should deliver the conspirators to us this week. He’s got nearly all their names. Once we have them in custody, I hope you and I can sit down with Ballard and talk this all out. I don’t want to lose you, Drew.”
Drew gave a bark of laughter. “I’m hardly an asset. I’ve been chasing my own tail for years and didn’t know it.”
“You’ve brought a lot of men to justice, son. Don’t lose sight of how valuable you are to your country. Give this some time to settle.”
“Where’s Ballard now?”
Ian shrugged. “I think he’s probably protecting Lily. He followed her out of here.”
Though he knew Ballard was one of them, Drew’s gut churned. He’d been suspicious of the man for too many years, and he wasn’t even too sure of Ian anymore. “I don’t like it that he’s gone after her. Could you go check it out?”
“I told you, Ballard is one of us. I’m sorry I caused you to distrust him all these years, but let it go.” Ian turned away.
Drew wandered through the crowd trying to ignore the mounting sense of worry. Ian had full faith in Ballard, but what about those knives used to attack the women? Drew had seen them with his own eyes, and he was sure Ballard had made those weapons. What implications did that have? Was it possible Ballard had deceived Ian?
He mingled with the crowd and saw Mrs. Marshall from a distance. She didn’t have her wrap on, so clearly Lily hadn’t returned.
By now it was ten fifteen. The party would be winding down in another hour or so.
Mrs. Adams, her hat on and her purse in hand, paused to smile at him. “I hope I didn’t upset Lily.”
He’d barely listened when Lily talked about their conversation. “What do you mean?”
“That talk about Christopher torturing the rat.” She shuddered delicately. “I’m surprised he didn’t come to a bad end, but I spoke with him tonight, and he seems perfectly normal.” She laid her gloved hand on his arm. “Anyway, tell her I’m sorry if I upset her.”
He watched her join her husband and make their good-byes. Tortured a rat? He recalled a book he’d read by a German psychiatrist about killers. The book had mentioned torture of animals. Christopher was living in the house. He could have found the secret passages. Drew’s unease grew. He returned to Mr. Marshall’s side but found no one around who appeared suspicious. If not for his duty to protect Marshall, Drew would go in search of Lily right now.
By ten thirty every nerve was on high alert. He couldn’t stand around any longer. Ian had said Marshall was in no danger tonight, but Drew feared Lily might be. He set his jaw and headed for the door, stopping only long enough to tell Ian where he was going. Marshall had come here of his own free will. Drew had to find Lily and make sure she was all right.
He took the trolley and rode to a block from the house. Five minutes later he stood in front of the Butterfly Palace. It was shrouded in darkness except for a hall light burning. Inside, he called for her. “Lily!” Her bag was on the hall table. He strode through the house searching for her and yelling out her name.
Upstairs, he hurried to the master bedroom and looked inside. The closet door still hung open, but there was no sign of Lily. A
brown silk wrap lay on the floor. His unease flared to raw fear. Lily would never have left the bedroom in this state.
“Mr. Hawkes?”
He turned to see Emily in the hall. “Have you seen Lily?”
Her eyes wide, she nodded. “She was here a bit earlier to fetch a wrap for Mrs. Marshall.”
He swept his arm around the room. “She left the wrap here.”
Emily stared past him. “She would have closed the door and straightened the room.”
“Exactly. And her bag is downstairs. Did you hear anything else? Any voices?”
“Just Mr. Lambreth. I heard his voice once, but I didn’t see him.”
Drew sagged against the wall. “Christopher might be the man who murdered Jane and all the other servant girls.”
Lily struggled to breathe. Something pinned her arms to her sides, and she couldn’t see anything in the suffocating darkness. She knew she was in the labyrinth of the house somewhere because she could smell the damp and the mouse droppings. She lay on something hard and cold, perhaps the ground, though it was too dark to see.
Mr. Lambreth. He’d put something over her face to render her unconscious. Chloroform? And what was he planning? Panic closed her throat, and she struggled but made no headway. Her arms were pinned to her sides. She flexed her wrists and encountered rough rope.
Think, Lily!
She calmed herself and tried to sense where she was. Could she free herself? There was a bit of give in the bonds. She flexed her
arms again and felt the ropes loosen. Encouraged, she tried again and managed to free her left wrist. Her hand felt numb and tingly, but she reached over and wrenched her right wrist free, then sat up. Feeling her way in the darkness, she realized she was on a narrow cot of some kind.
She staggered to her feet, her head swimming. She was too dizzy and disoriented to know where she was going, but she managed to stumble a few feet until she ran into the cold wall. It was earthen, so it was different from other areas she’d been in. Her eyes began to adjust to the dark, and she saw a glow to her left.
Mr. Lambreth’s gleeful voice came from her left. He was smiling in the light of the lantern in his hand. “I see you, Lily. You can’t escape me. I’ve been waiting for this moment. The others were much too fast with no time to enjoy the moment. This will be different.”
He is the killer
.
Her throat closed, and she pushed deeper into the shadows.
“You can’t hide from me.”
His feet scuffed along the floor, and she sidled along the wall. It was too dark to see well. He must be like a cat, able to see in dim light. She kept her eye on the bobbing lantern. It quit moving, and she took a few more rapid steps away. Then a hand grabbed her by the hair. It felt like he was yanking her hair out by its roots, and a scream tore from her lungs.
“Let go of me!” She grabbed his arm and dragged it to her mouth, then bit down as hard as she could until the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth.
He swore and yanked his arm away. “You’ll be very sorry you did that, Lily.”
The steely intent in his voice made her quail. She didn’t intend to die easily. Not before she had a chance to tell Drew she understood
what he’d been trying to tell her. Not before she turned into the person she should be.
While he tended to his arm, she took off blindly running along the labyrinth floor. Christopher’s footsteps pounded after her, closer and closer. With his hot breath on her neck, she stumbled over a hole in the path and went down into a pit filled with water. Pain shot up from her knee.
“Gotcha.” His hands came down on her shoulders, and he dragged her to her feet. She gave a despairing scream though there was no one to hear. “Why did you kill Jane? And those other women? They did nothing to you.”
A cruel smile twisted his lips. In the lamplight, his pale blue eyes were like ice chips. “While I quite enjoyed their deaths, yours will be more pleasurable since I’ve admired you so long.” Keeping one hand on her arm, he held a knife up in the lamplight. “I had this one made just for you.”
She screamed and broke free of his grip, but not for long.