Read General Well'ngone In Love Online
Authors: Libi Astaire
Tags: #mystery, #historical mystery, #historical 1800s, #historical cozy, #mystery and romance, #jewish mystery, #mystery and humor, #jewish crime fiction, #mystery 19th century
“
So you see, Mr. Melamed,”
said the Earl, “we have not kidnapped the boy.”
The General turned first to the Earl, with a
look of astonishment on his face, and then he turned to Mr.
Melamed. “Does Miss Krinkle think that? Is that what she told
you?”
“
Apparently, the young
lady does not think as highly of you, General, as you do of her,”
said the Earl, with more than a dash of glee.
“
Miss Krinkle is worried
about her brother,” said Mr. Melamed. “If the boy is not here,
would you be willing to help me find him?”
This last question was addressed to the
Earl, who said, “London is a big city. And, as you said, it is a
cold night.”
Mr. Melamed placed several coins on the
table. “Buy some more fuel. I shall have some soup sent over, and
whatever else I can find. Let me know as soon as you find the
boy.”
“
If we find him,” said the
Earl, scooping up the coins.
“
We’ll find him,” said the
General. “Tell Miss Krinkle that ...” The General glanced in the
direction of the Earl of Gravel Lane, who was once again looking at
him with raised eyebrows. “We will find her brother.”
V.
When Mr. Melamed arrived at Devonshire
Square, the Lyon family was still at the supper table. Despite the
best efforts of Mrs. Lyon to convince their guest to eat, the plate
placed before Sarah Krinkle was still nearly full, since the young
lady had no appetite. When Mr. Melamed entered the room she rose
from her chair and asked, “Have you found him? Have you brought
Berel?”
“
No, Miss Krinkle, I have
not yet found your brother. But the Earl of Gravel Lane and his
boys have agreed to begin the search this evening.”
“
I don’t want their
help.”
“
I can understand your
feelings, and normally I would agree. But General Well’ngone knows
the streets of London better than almost anyone, and it is my
opinion that it would be foolish to refuse their offer of
assistance.”
“
And what shall we do?”
asked Miss Rebecca Lyon, who had been touched by the thought of the
frail child wandering alone and unfriended on such a
night.
Mr. Melamed glanced in the direction of the
family’s matriarch. “I did promise the Earl to send over some hot
food for his boys.”
Mrs. Lyon glanced, in turn, at their servant
Meshullan Mendel. “Please tell Sorel to prepare a basket of food.
If there is not enough soup left, she should make another pot.”
“
You should eat something,
too, Mr. Melamed,” said Mr. Lyon. “Won’t you join us?”
After Mr. Melamed had been seated and
served, he turned to Miss Krinkle and said, “I do not wish to
appear that I am prying into your family’s affairs, Miss Krinkle,
but the more information we have the better our chances of finding
your brother quickly.”
“
I understand,” she
replied.
“
Have you any idea where
he was going, when he left your home?”
Sarah hesitated. However, it did not take
long for her to come to a decision. If she had to choose between
honoring her promise to the solicitor and finding her brother, she
must do all she could for Berel. “My family has been in the
employment of a solicitor named Mr. Horace Barnstock for several
years. Berel was supposed to go to Mr. Barnstock’s place of
business.”
“
What sort of work does
your family do for Mr. Barnstock?”
“
My father was employed by
Mr. Barnstock to make clean copies of Mr. Barnstock’s legal papers.
When he became ill, I took over for him. Berel takes the finished
copies to Mr. Barnstock’s office and brings back the new
work.”
“
And brings back the
money?” asked Mr. Lyon, glancing over at Mr. Melamed.
“
You do not think someone
murdered Berel for the money?” asked Miss Krinkle with
alarm.
“
I believe that is highly
unlikely,” replied Mr. Melamed. “Unless Berel was known to carry
money upon his person, I cannot see why anyone would accost a
child.”
“
Then why was General
Well’ngone following Berel around this afternoon?” asked the young
lady.
Mr. Melamed was silent. If the right time
ever came, the General himself should be the one to answer that
question.
After supper, Rebecca Lyon showed their
visitor to the guest room that had been prepared for her. In other
circumstances, Sarah would have looked about with delighted wonder.
She had never before seen such sparkling white linens or thick
blankets, nor was she used to the luxury of a fire burning in her
bedchamber. Even the nightdress that lay upon the bed seemed much
too rich to sleep in, since it was trimmed with lace. But her heart
was too filled with worry to be distracted by such mundane
pleasures.
Rebecca noticed the girl’s lackluster
response. “Is something not to your liking, Miss Krinkle? Perhaps
you would like another pillow?”
“
Thank you, Miss Lyon. I
am most grateful for the kindness of you and your family. I am just
a little tired.”
“
My room is next to yours.
If you should require anything during the night, please do not
hesitate to knock on my door.”
Rebecca went to her own room. However, she
was still brushing her hair when she heard coming from the other
side of the wall the sound of Miss Krinkle sobbing. Returning to
the guest room, she put her arm around Miss Krinkle and tried to
console her.
“
God willing, we will find
your brother. You must have hope.”
“
I am trying to be
hopeful, Miss Lyon. But what if Berel is dead?”
“
You must not think that.
I am sure General Well’ngone and his boys will continue searching
until they have found him. Mr. Melamed will not give up
either.”
Sarah began to cry again. “It is all my
fault,” she said, in between her sobs. “If I had not been so
stubborn ... If I had not insisted that I could take care of Berel
by myself, perhaps this would not have happened.”
“
I am sure that no one
blames you, Miss Krinkle. You acted as you thought was
right.”
“
Would you have allowed
Mr. Melamed to put your brother in an orphanage if, God forbid, you
had lost your parents?”
Rebecca was silent for a moment. The truth
was that she had a stormy relationship with Joshua, her younger
brother, and more than once she had thought the Jewish orphanage
would be an excellent place for such a troublesome sibling. Yet in
her heart of hearts she knew she would not really wish to part with
him, and so she said, “Of course not. But it is a great
responsibility to raise a younger sibling. Have you no relations at
all, Miss Krinkle?”
“
I have an aunt—my
mother’s married sister—who lives in the West Indies. My father’s
family is in Prague. Those places are so far away, and I do not
know these people. How would I know that they would take care of
Berel? My parents hoped that Berel would become a scholar, even a
rabbi. And he could, he is so very clever. What if the people who
took us in refused to give Berel an education? Not everyone can
easily afford to pay a tutor, and since Berel is not their son they
might not want to assume the expense.”
“
Did you explain all this
to Mr. Melamed?”
Sarah shook her head. “We are so very poor.
I am certain he would tell us that we must be practical and not
aspire to things beyond our reach.”
“
I can promise you
nothing, Miss Krinkle, but I do think you should inform Mr. Melamed
of your parents’ wishes. It is a serious thing to respect the
wishes of the deceased, and Mr. Melamed is not as unfeeling as he
may sometimes seem. But for now you need your rest. You may be
called upon to perform some task in the morning, something for
which you will need all your strength.”
For the first time Sarah smiled. “I did
promise myself that I will give Berel a box on the ears, when I
find him.”
“
There, you see—you will
want to be well rested for that!”
The clock had already chimed two when
General Well’ngone straggled into the library of Mr. Melamed, who
was reading by the still-smoldering fire.
“
We couldn’t find him, and
the boys are frozen to the bone.”
Mr. Melamed closed his book. “We shall
resume the search in the morning. There is food for you and the
others in the kitchen.”
The butler showed the youngsters downstairs,
to the kitchen. Mr. Melamed went over to the library window, which
overlooked the street. He could see nothing in the inky darkness.
His only hope was that the solicitor would be able to shed some
light on the matter in the morning.
VI.
“What do you mean, the child is missing?”
Mr. Horace Barnstock jabbed the tip of his pen in the direction of
Mr. Melamed. “Come to the point, sir. I am busy man.”
“
Did Berel Krinkle come to
your rooms yesterday, or not?” replied Mr. Melamed, who could also
assume the demeanor of the stern man of business when he
chose.
“
Of course, he came
here.”
“
Do you know where he went
afterward?”
“
How should I know?” Mr.
Barnstock thought for a moment, and then he flung down his pen on
his desk. “Blast the boy! He was supposed to have gone straight
home. I had work for the sister, important work that he was
supposed to return to me. This is most inconvenient.”
“
May I ask the nature of
the document?”
“
No, you may
not.”
“
We are speaking of a
child who has gone missing—after visiting your
establishment.”
“
I had nothing to do with
it, if that is what you are implying Mr. ...” the solicitor glanced
down with distaste at the visiting card that had been brought into
him before the interview. “... Melamed.”
“
Yes, but the document
might have some bearing on the incident.”
“
I cannot see how. Still,
I suppose you could have a point.” Like most citizens of London,
Mr. Barnstock preferred to keep his distance from the city’s Bow
Street Runners—those rough-and-tumble officers of the law who were
often far too zealous in their attempts to quickly close a case and
collect their fees. The solicitor therefore rifled through some
papers on his desk until he found the page of notes he was looking
for. “This is confidential, of course,” he said, looking across the
desk at Mr. Melamed
“
Of course. My interest is
the boy.”
“
The document to be copied
was for a bill of sale. Lord Liverwood wishes to buy an elephant
and take it to his ancestral home in Kent.”
“
An elephant?”
“
He saw the beast being
paraded around at the Frost Fair and decided he must have it for
his estate. Are you familiar with Lord Liverwood?”
“
No, I am not.”
“
If you were, you would
not be surprised. Last year he asked me to draw up an agreement for
a hermit.”
“
A hermit?”
“
Apparently it was all the
rage to employ one, at least for a certain type of
gentleman.”
“
For what
purpose?”
“
The person was a sort of
curio for Lord Liverwood and his guests, I suppose. The terms were
in the agreement. Lord Liverwood had a hut built for the person and
provided the man with food and clothes. In return, the hermit had
to agree to live in the hut and not speak with any of Lord
Liverwood’s guests. I believe the man also had to agree to grow out
his hair and not bathe during the time of his employment.” Mr.
Barnstock noted his visitor’s astonishment and added, “Lord
Liverwood is rich as Midas, bored as the devil and crazy as a
loon—but harmless, mind you. I cannot imagine him hurting a fly,
and certainly not a child.”
“
Was he here when Berel
arrived?”
“
Yes, that is why I am
telling you that Lord Liverwood is not your man. His head was full
of his elephant. I doubt he even noticed the child.”
“
Was anyone else
here?”
“
Only Arthur.”
“
Your clerk?”
“
And my son. He’s another
one with not too much upstairs, but a father must provide for his
children. Although I cannot imagine what will become of the
practice after I am gone.”
Mr. Barnstock went to the door and called
for Arthur. The young man sulked his way into the room.
“
Arthur, this gentleman is
seeking the whereabouts of young Berel Krinkle. Did the boy happen
to mention where he was going to, after he left here?”
“
My time is too valuable
to spend it talking to messenger boys, Father.”
“
Perhaps he mentioned
meeting someone at the Frost Fair?” asked Mr. Melamed.
“
If he did, he was talking
to the wall, for I did not hear him.”
Arthur sulked back to his desk.
“
I am sorry I cannot
assist you further, Mr. Melamed. Send word when you hear
something.”
“
I will.” Mr. Melamed was
about to depart, when he turned back to Mr. Barnstock and said,
“One final question, sir, if I may.”
“
Yes?”
“
What happened to the
hermit?”
“
Eh?”