Inez suppressed a wince at the thought of more mint. “Most kind. But I wondered, are you not afraid being out alone so late at night? It seems it would be dangerous. I have heard there are catamounts that roam about the area.”
Nurse Crowson laughed. An unexpected sound. There was a merry tinkle to her voice that hinted at the young girl she had once been. “I know this area well and know how to take care of myself. I tend to some of the invalids in the various boarding houses as I have time in the evenings and at night. There are so many suffering. I do what I can to bring relief to those who ask.”
Inez’s gaze fell back upon the patient in the invalid chair. “Your dedication is admirable and appreciated by many, I can tell.”
Mrs. Crowson seemed to warm to the praise, a faint smile growing on her face.
“For instance, Mr. Travers,” Inez continued. “Is he still at the hotel? I’ve not seen him of late.”
The smile vanished. “He no longer is here.”
“Do any of your patients reside at the Colorado Springs Hotel?” Inez asked, thinking that, no matter what the nurse had told Lewis, she might know of the mysterious Dr. Galloway, given her connections to the invalid community.
“No.” The response was abrupt. “There are plenty needing assistance here in Manitou and nearby without my venturing to Colorado Springs. Good day, Mrs. Stannert. We have been outside long enough, and I must prepare my patient here for the baths. You should try them, the mineral baths. Very healthful.”
Inez looked out at the long ramshackle building sulking next to Fountain Creek, a walking distance away. “I shall keep it in mind.”
Nurse Crowson spun the chair in a half circle and headed back to the main door.
After dallying a minute or two longer, Inez returned to the reception desk. The morning clerk was smooth-cheeked and sported an ambitious line of peach fuzz, struggling to become a mustache.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she told the young earnest-faced clerk behind the desk. “But my husband locked my key in our rooms, and he’s out for the day. Quite silly of me, I know, to forget it.”
“No problem at all,” he assured her.
Inez watched as he opened a small drawer at belly level behind the desk and pulled out a skeleton key on a large ring. She suppressed a smile of satisfaction. They went upstairs, and he opened the door with a flourish. “Madam.”
“Thank you.”
Once he left, Inez retrieved her key, made sure she had what she needed for the next step in her plans, went to DuChamps’ suite and knocked.
A moment later, Harmony opened the door and invited her in. Lily and William were already there, rolling a ball back and forth across the floor of the central sitting room. Aunt Agnes sat close to the door, looking for all the world like Cerberus guarding the gate to the underworld.
“Aren’t you going out for your morning constitutional?” Inez inquired.
Harmony sighed, and glanced at Aunt Agnes. “Dear aunt has decided we are not to leave the hotel unless we are accompanied by either Jonathan or a guide. Honestly, Aunt Agnes, what danger could possibly befall us by walking up to the spring for a cup of mineral water and then back again? Dr. Prochazka instructed us to take the air, at least twice a day. You were so insistent that I follow his prescriptions to the letter.”
“We can have someone deliver the water here,” said Agnes, snapping her fan open as if it were a weapon. “Stampeding horses. Falling rocks. Wild animals. No, we stay here. A little later, we shall stroll around the veranda. That will provide fresh air enough.”
“Perhaps Inez could come with us to the springs,” said Harmony. “Why, the Manitou Soda spring is only a few steps over the bridge, and the Navajo is just a little farther.”
“Certainly she is invited, but we will not go out until Jonathan returns or we can take one of the hotel staff with us. Preferably someone who is armed with a pistol and knows how to use it in case we are attacked by a bear. Or a snake.”
Harmony rolled her eyes at Inez and said, “In that case, I suppose we shall have a quiet day inside today, because Jonathan is not due back until nearly dinnertime.”
“Oh dear,” said Inez. She added, “Do you perchance have any empty bottles of tonic about?”
Harmony’s eyebrows drew together. “One from yesterday. Why?”
Inez held out her hand. “I shall be happy to return it for you.” She wiggled her fingers in a give-it-to-me gesture. In a low voice, she said, “Please. It’s important. I’ll explain later, if you wish.”
Without a word, Harmony disappeared into the bedroom and returned, handing Inez a small brown bottle. Inez tucked it into her reticule with a smile. She turned to Aunt Agnes, saying, “I will be going to Ohio House to visit Miss Carothers today, so shall be on the lookout for rattlesnakes, dear aunt. But before I go, I have something I must discuss with you.” She located a wooden chair that had been moved aside to make room for Lily, William, and the ball, and arranged it so she could sit facing Aunt Agnes.
Aunt Agnes pulled her head back, like a turtle that didn’t appreciate the sudden intrusion. “Well, then, what is it, Inez. Goodness, you can move back a bit. I can hardly breathe.”
“I know you have lived with Mama and Papa these past few years, since Harmony married,” said Inez, staying where she was.
“Of course.” The fan moved faster. “
Some
one had to be there for your mother. Your father is my brother, and none knows better than I how little he is around these days. Too, someone needs to keep an eye on things. And run the household, since she has been so weak. Harmony has her own household and your son to consider, so one can hardly expect her to take up the additional burden.”
Inez didn’t miss the accusation, but chose to dodge that battle.
“I understand that Papa threw away all the letters I wrote home.” Inez watched closely, to gauge her aunt’s reaction to this simple fact.
Agnes sniffed. “He did not toss them. He burned them. Except for a few I was able to smuggle to your sister after her marriage, so you could re-establish your relationship.”
Inez nodded. That was true. Harmony had told her as much. “I understand that Papa did the same with Mark’s letters. The ones he sent to New York, addressed to me, this past year.”
She saw Aunt Agnes’ eyes widen, then dart furtively left and right, as if looking for an escape route. Finally, that penetrating blue gaze fastened on Inez with unblinking intensity. “He wrote to you? In New York? I don’t believe so. I never saw letters to that effect. If he told you so, he was lying.”
Inez raised an eyebrow, without comment.
No, dear aunt. He wasn’t lying. You are.
Agnes continued, picking up steam, “He is probably just trying to worm his way back into your good graces.”
“I thought you liked him, Aunt Agnes.”
Her fan ceased its frantic fluttering, snapped closed, and Agnes tapped Inez’s gloved hand with it condescendingly. “Oh nonsense, dear child. How could I like a man who
deserted
you and your wonderful little boy, only to turn up now, as you are finally ready to return to your family? I’m doing my utmost to be polite, but really. I don’t trust him, and you shouldn’t either.”
Inez smiled thinly and stood. “Well, I hope you have a pleasant morning. I shall be back later today, after the noon meal. I do hope you get out for that turn around the veranda. I suspect if all the consumptive guests are safe sitting on the piazza, you will survive as well.”
***
As for lunch at the Ohio House, it went about as Inez expected. Marshal Robbins was more than happy to devour Mrs. Galbreaith’s fried chicken, potatoes and gravy, and blackberry pie, and consume quarts of lemonade, but was not inclined to listen to Inez’s and Susan’s theories on Calder’s death.
“Ladies,” he finally said, pushing empty plates and the four photographs to one side. “Mr. Calder was an ace-high fellow. I can understand you wanting to argufy about the way in which he came to meet his Maker, because it’s a shame and a half. But there’s nothing that points to anything other than him being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“But there are no marks on the walls to indicate where a rock of that size would have come loose,” said Susan again, pushing the before-and-after images back toward him. “Look for yourself.” She set a magnifying glass by the pictures.
The marshal crossed his arms, as if by refusing to touch them the photographs might magically disappear. “Probably came off the wall from higher up.”
“But in that case, he would have heard the rock coming,” Inez pointed out. “He would have had time to move out of the way.”
“Maybe he decided to try climbin’ the cliffs,” the marshal countered. “Some of these young fellas, they take on anything close to verticality, just for the sport of it. I’ve seen ’em do it. And if Calder was up there and grabbed a loose rock, well, that’s it. Down they come, and that’s the sorry end to it.”
Susan opened her mouth again. Inez caught her eye and shook her head. She knew exactly what Susan was going to say, because the same retort was on her lips:
If that were the case, more than his head would have been injured.
Logic, Inez could see, wasn’t going to sway the marshal’s take on the incident. His mouth was set in a stubborn straight line. Arms folded across his chest. He was squared up to stand off any opposition, whether a stampede of raging buffalo or a passel of angry petticoats.
“Who found him?” Inez asked.
He uncrossed his arms. “Mrs. Crowson. She’d taken one of the hotel’s folks out for a constitutional after breakfast, in the invalid chair, you see. When they happened on the scene, she told me she could see there was no hope for him, so came back and reported to Mr. Lewis, who sent for me.”
Mrs. Galbreaith appeared from the kitchen, with a tray of cups. “Coffee, Marshal?” she asked.
“Don’t mind if I do. Mrs. Galbreaith, you make the finest Arbuckle’s this side of the Mississippi.”
She smiled, acknowledging his praise, and set full cups all around, with the cream pitcher near to hand. “I will offer a prayer for Mr. Calder and his family,” she said. “How tragic for all of them. First the elder son, and now the younger. I suppose you had a physician determine cause of death? For the family’s sake, if nothing else.”
He poured a generous amount of cream into his coffee and stirred. The dark liquid faded to caramel brown. “Well, ma’am, as you know, Manitou doesn’t have a coroner, but you can’t throw a rock without hittin’ a sawbones or two. When I arrived at the Mountain Springs House, they’d already rustled up Doc Zuckerman to attend. He came up the canyon with us, gave the situation the eyeball, and determined that it was a sad and sorrowful act of God and Nature that caused Mr. Calder to pass in his chips, and nothing else.”
***
After the unsatisfactory conversation with the marshal, Inez made her way back across Manitou Springs, skirting the Navajo spring, crossing the bridge, and passing the Manitou Soda on her way to the Mountain Springs House. She had hoped that Harmony had somehow succeeded in convincing Aunt Agnes that no bears would come galumphing down into town to snatch them up. But none of the places held her family, so Inez walked on to her hotel.
Her mind picked over the marshal’s remarks, turning his comments this way and that, attempting to bring order to disorder.
Why didn’t Nurse Crowson say anything to me about having discovered Calder when I saw her this morning? Very convenient that Dr. Zuckerman was there to attend. Why didn’t they ask Dr. Prochazka, who is, after all, the hotel’s doctor? Was that Lewis’ doing, calling Zuckerman to be the attending physician? And just how much “eyeballing” did Dr. Zuckerman do? Not much, I’d wager.
When Inez arrived back at the hotel, she stopped on the veranda, grateful for the shade. She moved along the front porch, choosing a rocker at the far corner, and sat for a moment to rock and cool down from her walk. A waiter carrying a tray stopped to see if she wanted anything. She turned down the offer of iced mint tea—Mrs. Crowson’s special blend, the waiter reminded her, and was then offered a lemonade. Again, she demurred. Finally, perhaps more vociferously than required, she turned down a sparkling mineral water concoction that the waiter explained was guaranteed to “animate the vital forces” and was approved by Drs. Prochazka and Zuckerman. She waited until the disappointed waiter left before slipping her handkerchief from her sleeve and tucking it into the seat of the rocker so that a small portion of the linen was visible. When all was set for the next part of her plan, she rose and strolled into the hotel.
She was happy to see that the young desk clerk from the morning was still on duty. A quick glance around the lobby reassured her he was the only other person in the lobby and that the music room across the way was empty.
Her timing was good in other respects: As far as she could tell, the majority of guests seemed to be out, resting in their rooms, or otherwise engaged in after-lunch activities away from the hotel. In any case, the lobby was quite deserted. She halted by the front desk and asked for her room key, making a show of fanning herself and leaning heavily upon the edge of the reception desk. As the clerk handed her the key, she searched her purse before looking at him helplessly. “Oh dear. I must have dropped my handkerchief on the rocker outside when I stopped to rest. I would retrieve it, but am so exhausted from traipsing about this morning.”