“Does Danny know?”
She shook her head. “I figured that there’s strength in numbers.”
But that made me queasy. Would having Charlie here really stop Danny Connor from doing something terrible? I doubted it.
“What if Danny—”
“He won’t,” she whispered, but I read the doubt in her face.
“Lou, can I trust Charlie?” Could I trust her? She’d already betrayed me once.
Her eyes grew round. “Yes. Yes.”
“Because, Lou. If I can trust Charlie—if I can trust both of
you—if he’s not in Danny’s pocket, then he’s Danny’s enemy. And you know what he does to his enemies.”
“He would never hurt Charlie.” The tears welled in her eyes. “Danny, he, he might be bad, sometimes, but he loves me, he does, I know it….” Her voice trailed off.
“Lou. Oh, Lou.”
The tears spilled then, and she looked at the floor. It had all been a mirage, a trick, an illusion, that Danny was good and kind; it was something he’d done to win her. He’d played it to the hilt, the best of showmen, until now. I wrapped my arms around Louie and hugged her hard as her shoulders heaved. We stood that way a long time.
When she pulled away, I knew she’d turned a corner. I could see it in the lift of her chin, how she squared her shoulders, how she dried her eyes with purpose, smashing those tears with her palm. If it was Charlie or me against Danny, I knew now where she’d stand.
Lou wasn’t Danny Connor’s moll any longer. She wasn’t anyone’s possession or plaything or victim. She was Louise O’Keefe. I loved her like a sister.
Then she said something that made me fearful all over again.
“Charlie and me, we thought we saw, just as we were turning in the drive…” Her eyes met mine.
“What?” I clutched her arm.
“Someone was out there. I think it might have been—”
“Teddy?” My heart pounded.
“I don’t see how. But still…” She added, “Ryan didn’t see him. He was busy with the gate.”
If Teddy was here, then Connor’s trap was working. As much
as I wanted Teddy to come save me, I needed to get out of the mansion so that Teddy wouldn’t try to reach me.
“Danny says you’re to stay here. He’ll send food up. Charlie and I will be in the house, Jo. We won’t leave you.”
Lou hugged me hard and then, just before she left, she reached into her pocket and handed me an envelope. After she left I heard the key turn in the lock.
Inside the envelope were the pages from Teddy’s journal. And a note from Lou: Stole them out of his jacket. I sank onto the bed and read.
August 12, 1923
So. It wasn’t Mel’s fault. I should’ve known; Patrick was the lowest kind of scum. When he threatened to go get the boy, I snapped. I wasn’t going to let the likes of him go after Mel’s little boy.
I don’t like it, but it’s done. He deserved everything he got. I’m glad I took care of him.
That’s right, world. I killed Patrick Connor. With my own hands, I beat him to a pulp. Yes, it sickens me. Yes, he was the worst. But that doesn’t excuse what I did.
I’m no hero, just a murderous beast.
Oh, Lord. Teddy, you killed Connor’s brother? Danny wanted revenge, and no wonder. I read on.
Now there’s only one thing left. Family comes first, that’s the way of it. I have to protect Melody. And if it means I have to protect John Rushton once more, that’s what I’ll do. He’s the only one who can look after Mel’s boy…and since that’s what he’s been doing.
Thank the good Lord John agreed to take Leo in.
Maybe Mel can make peace with it one day.
September 2
Danny will be after me now. I’ve made my bed. John and Leo and Mel will all be safe. But with Danny’s eye fixed firmly on me and my whereabouts, he won’t be looking at them. I’m a dead man. I just have to keep Danny’s gaze from lighting on any of them, including Pops and Ma and Josie.
Josie.
But that other business…
I lowered my hand, unable for the moment to read on. Patrick was dead; Teddy had killed him. Danny Connor was bent on revenge for his brother. Teddy was a murderer.
But Teddy was a hero. I didn’t care what it looked like. I didn’t care what he’d had to do. As far as I was concerned, Teddy was a hero.
I lifted the remaining pages.
September 4, 1923
Danny knows I killed Patrick. It’s all over.
September 5
I can’t believe what I just discovered. Why didn’t I figure this out sooner? When I confronted him, he admitted it. Admitted he was as good as the cold-blooded murderer of Frank Rushton.
All along, Daniel Connor has been fronting for Patrick and the others in that business. All along, Danny was the benefactor. He was supporting the anarchists. He was responsible for Wall Street, 1920. All along. He was the one supplying the money for the explosives. He’s the one responsible. All this time.
I figured it out when he asked me to balance the books. Because I knew the numbers on those crates I ditched, I knew what was in them. I knew he’d bought and paid for the explosives. Others along with Patrick carried it out—maybe those Italian guys but maybe not—but Danny was the moneyman.
By having me balance the books, Danny Connor handed me the key to his prison cell.
He can’t ever read this journal, but someone must. I won’t be able to escape. I have to find someone who can set things right.
I’m an accomplice, just for hiding the evidence. That’s what he said when I faced him down. He’s holding that over me to keep my mouth shut. That and Ma and Pops and Josie. He said he’d take it out on them.
On Josie, sweet Jo.
I can’t ever let him get his hands on this journal. But it might help them. Might help her.
Teddy. Oh, my.
Now I understood why Danny Connor wanted the journal. Now I understood why he’d never let me leave this house in one piece. If I didn’t get out of here, I’d draw Teddy right into Danny Connor’s trap, and he’d kill us both.
I tucked the journal pages together with the scarf that was tied around the medal boxes and hid everything under my pillow.
I set my alarm for four A.M. I didn’t wear pajamas, but slim black pants and a black long-sleeved sweater so that I wouldn’t have to dress. It would still be dark at four, and I imagined sleep would even take Ryan and Neil by that time. I planned to make an escape out the window, and then…well, I hadn’t thought further.
I hadn’t thought about the rain.
CHAPTER 47
Lou
It happened so fast and so hard it was like hitting a wall at a hundred miles an hour.
One minute Danny Connor was the center of my life, and I would do anything,
anything
for him. I would do anything to keep him. I would’ve even done something awful to Jo.
There. I said it. Okay?
The next, Danny was like that old story, the kid’s story, you know the one? Where the emperor has no clothes? He was exposed. I saw everything he hadn’t wanted me to see. I’d been bewitched, or something.
It took Jo Winter to lift the spell.
When I heard him say that to her—“I intend to kill him”—that was the start. Well, I thought, Danny Connor, if you can be so cold-blooded as
all that…Except the cold blood was running through my veins, let me tell you, ’cause I knew the kind of stuff he was really capable of. I’d just chosen until that moment to look away. That’s when I decided to steal the pages for Jo.
But it really hit me when Jo hinted about Charlie. When Jo hinted that Danny might hurt Charlie, why, that was the last straw. I had to choose.
And what do you think? Who would you choose? Family? Or the guy? I’ve made some bad choices, brother, and this time I went the right way.
It hurts, it hurts, oh, unless you’ve been there, you can’t imagine what a choice that is. My heart about splintered into a thousand pieces.
And then I thought about Charlie, and I took those splinters and sharpened them to knife points. To use on Danny.
That’s right, Detective, just what you thought all along. Not Jo, Danny.
CHAPTER 48
JUNE 10, 1925
He believed that men lived many lives, coming back to earth again and again as children return to school after a summer of play.
—Fulton Oursler on Howard Thurston,
The Sphinx
, May 1936
Jo
The crack of thunder woke me from a sound sleep. A minute later came a flash of lightning, so bright it filled my room, and then another rumble. Rain slashed against the windows. I squinted at the clock ticking at my bedside: midnight.
Cursing, I slipped from the bed and went into the bathroom, pulled the chair over, and opened the window. Rain hammered my face as I leaned out, trying to see my route. I could not make it to the cornice, which was slick with sheeting rain, unless I wanted to break my neck. No escape for me from this room as long as the storm raged.
I pulled inside as another stab of lightning illuminated the lawns. And my breath caught. There. There!
The rain blinded me. I rubbed my face, but it streamed over my eyes and I still couldn’t see. But I had to; I had to be sure.
I jumped from the chair and ran back to the bedroom and pressed against the window glass, felt the thunder shake the house, tried to see through the rain. I was so sure I’d seen him, there at the edge of the trees….
Another flash, and, yes! Teddy.
My Teddy. Teddy, so solid, standing there staring up at the house, in that same old beat-up jacket he wore back from France, I knew it was him, looking for me, and I wanted to cry out and warn him but also gather him, bring him back, bring him back firmly and forever from the dead, I missed him so much. Teddy was also wearing that look of astonishment and determination that I so loved because I knew it was meant for me.
I ran between the two windows trying to see, but without the benefit of the lightning it was dark as pitch. Another flash—but he was gone now, and I almost broke down in tears, so helpless as I was. Was he a phantom, or really here?
I sank down onto the floor with my back against the bed. Maybe I could wait out the rain that now poured in through the open bathroom window. Maybe…
Another great streak and almost simultaneous clap of thunder, and I heard buzzing and arcing, as if the house had been struck. I leaped up again and then I saw it, the electric pole by the drive, by the side of the garage, burning like a torch from the lightning strike. It flamed to the sky, brilliant. I turned on one of the lamps: nothing. No electricity.
I ran to the bathroom window and pulled myself up again. Even if I broke my neck, I had to try. The electric pole burned bright, bright enough for me to see the cornice, the bricks, bright enough for me to see…
Teddy.
I saw a figure, a shadow on the cornice onto the balcony of the room next to mine. Joy filled me, mixed with fear over the flames now shooting skyward as the creosote-covered pole torched.
I pulled on shoes and ran to the door of my room. Shouts came from the hallway. From behind me the red firelight of the burning pole created a rosy pall, and the shadows leaped against the walls of my room, dancing. I heard the chair in the hall scrape as Neil pushed up, heard his footsteps in the hall, heard him curse about not being able to see, heard him yell down, “Get me a torch! I’m blind up here!”
I tried the door to my room. It was not locked.
Ah, Teddy. He’d come in and unlocked my door.
I opened the door, and as I did the door caught Neil’s chair and knocked it over so that it hit the wood floor with crack, then I heard Neil’s surprised shout and awkward flail as his feet tripped and danced and then I heard him tumble down, down, falling over and over down the broad steps to the second-story landing.
And a shadow, a man’s shadow, followed Neil down the stairs, running all the way down.
Teddy. Had Neil stumbled, or had Teddy pushed him?
My heart pounded. There were shouts from downstairs now, but they didn’t make sense, coming first from one side of the mansion and then the other, and no one seemed aware of what had just happened to Neil. From far below I heard the crash of some great glass and wood thing falling.
Then I heard a gunshot, short and sharp and heard Louie scream once, clipped, which gave me the courage I needed. Louie, Charlie. I needed to get to them. What was happening to them?
I crept out into the hall and clung to the railing. It wasn’t until the next flash of lightning that I saw what had happened to Neil, how he lay crumpled, distorted, on the landing, his head thrown back at an unnatural angle that made me shiver all over.