House of Silence
Page 21
“I never would’ve guessed you had that in you.” I gasped in surprise. “That sounds so scandalous.”
Lucy snorted. “You’d think so, but sitting up all night in an empty room is hardly the Grecian romance.”
“Well, let’s find the waiting room and settle in for the night.”
On our way through the station we found a sandwich vendor and bought dinner. Just as Lucy described, the waiting room was basically empty. A pair of older women had taken seats at the far corner from us.
“Do you think anyone will remember us?” I asked.
“And do what? Send a telegram to Batavia? I doubt we are very interesting to look at.” Lucy unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite.
“True.” I tried to get comfortable on the wooden bench. “I don’t want anyone to jeopardize what we are doing. Samuel will know where we went the moment he notices we are gone. I just don’t know if he’ll worry enough to divulge that information to Dr. Patterson.”
Lucy raised an eyebrow. “I have to ask. Is there something between you and Samuel?”
Despite myself, I felt my face flush. It was the one topic I’d avoided when I’d explained what had happened. “There shouldn’t be, but the more I spend time with him, the more I like him.”
“Well, he clearly cares for you. Helping you clear your name and everything. That is not a doctor’s job.” She wiped a piece of ham off her cheek.
I refused to meet Lucy’s eyes. “Perhaps he does care for me, but that doesn’t mean it’s smart for me to allow him to pursue his affections.”
“If you have feelings for him, what’s holding you back?”
I paused as I tried to find a way to explain my hesitation. “He’s studying to be a doctor. He has plans to build a house and make a life for himself.” Lucy shrugged her shoulders at my explanation so I went on. “Forevermore I’m going to be known as the inmate of an asylum—a lunatic. I can’t put that on him. It would ruin him.”
Lucy bumped her shoulder against mine. “You love him. You do—you’re in love with him.”
“That’s impossible. He’s a good friend. That’s all it is. I can’t be in love with him.” As I spoke, I remembered how my body responded to his kiss, and my lips tingled.
“Say whatever you like, but I know you too well, Isabelle. You’ll see I’m right soon enough.” She smiled. “The way you talk about him. I never heard that warmness in your voice when you spoke of Gregory.”
His name put a dark cloud over us. “I never loved him, you know. I told you I did, but I really loved the life he promised me.”
“I know. I always knew.” Lucy patted my hand.
* * *
Lucy and I linked arms as we pushed through the crowds at the Joliet train platform. It was early in the morning and on the walkway in front of us men walked to work and buggies jostled as they carried gentlemen to their destinations. They all had someplace to go. We’d made it to Joliet, but neither of us had been here, nor had we much more to base our search on than Gregory’s name.
“What now?” Lucy asked me.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I hadn’t thought this far.”
“We will figure it out,” Lucy said as she adjusted her grip on her bag.
I let the crowd continue to move around us for a moment while I thought of how to proceed. Then I shook my head and said, “That blue carriage over there. Let’s hire it to take us through town.”
Lucy nodded. The driver was sitting on the front bench reading the paper.
“Pardon us, but could we hire you to take us to town?” Lucy asked.
The man jumped and looked down at us. “Of course, ma’am. That’s why I am here.”
He climbed down and assisted us in getting into the back of the buggy.
“Where to?” he asked.
“Can you just take us through town?” I asked.
Lucy raised an eyebrow at me. I explained, “I know Katerina grew up here. She said she knew Gregory as a child, but I never thought to press for more details. I was so sure she was mistaken.”
Lucy nodded. Then she crossed her arms and exclaimed, “That stupid Gregory Gallagher. What a mess.”
The driver cleared his voice. “Are you looking for Gregory Gallagher? If you like, I can take you to the Gallagher estate.”
“What?” Lucy and I said at the same time.
Gregory had claimed to be from Kentucky. He insisted upon it and had a whole story to back him up. But this was too much a coincidence to ignore.
“Yes,” I said, my voice shaking. “Please take us there.”
For as long as I’d known Gregory, he’d claimed to be from a Kentucky horse-breeding family. His father and brothers had died during the war fighting for the South and his mother passed five years later during the influenza epidemic. Because his family was gone and he was so charming, few questioned his story further. Even I didn’t know much else about his past. I never even thought to ask what happened to his estate or his horses. Could he really have invented everything? Even worse, was it possible no one saw though the lies?
The driver tugged on the horses and we turned down a long, curved drive. The brick house was easily four times as large as Bellevue and twice as tall, but showed signs of much needed repair. The paint on the porch was chipped and the flowers were overcome with weeds. My stomach lurched. Something was wrong here. No house this grand should be left unattended.
“Do the Gallaghers still live here?” I asked.
The driver shrugged. “I don’t know much about that.”
“Of course,” Lucy said, soothing my prying question. “Thank you for the smooth ride.” She passed some money to the man and motioned to be let out of the carriage.
Once we climbed from the carriage, we all stared up at the building. Tall, dark stone cast its shadow over us. The windows were cloudy with dust, and most of the curtains were closed.
“Shall I wait for you ladies?” the driver asked.
Lucy and I exchanged looks and then I replied, “No, thank you.” He nodded his good-bye and moved on down the road.
“All right then.” Lucy removed a hair from her face and adjusted her soft pink gloves. I could hear the slight trepidation in her voice as she asked, “Do you really think this is Gregory’s estate?”
“I know it seems strange. But I think it must be. I mean, Katerina says she knows him from here and now there is a Gallagher estate? He must have lied about his past. The question is why.”
Lucy nodded. “Why would you change your entire family history?”
“There is nothing he wouldn’t do to secure the future he desires.” I winced at how alike I had been to Gregory. After all, I was the one who had been prepared to marry a man I didn’t love—and clearly didn’t know—for a certain lifestyle. I had been a fool.
Arm in arm we climbed the steps and paused on the porch landing. The front door was ajar.
“Do we ring?” Lucy asked.
I’d come too far to be deterred now. Whatever the danger, this was going to end. The story would be concluded, even if I was hurt in the process.
“No, we are going to go in.”
I pushed the door open far enough to allow our gowns through and we walked into the circular entryway. Morning light poured through the white curtains, giving a misty light to the house. Upon the walls were portraits of elegant men and women with Gregory’s blond hair and penetrating eyes. The pictures continued up a wide marble staircase. There was no doubt this was his family’s house. The furniture was covered in white drapes and gave off a barren mood. Sunbeams came in through the cracks in the curtains and illuminated the dust floating in the air. I winced at how loud my footsteps sounded in the dead space.
We walked toward the staircase and gasped at the same time. There were handprints in the dust all the way up the stairs. I could feel Lucy tighten beside me.
“We are going to go up, Lucy,” I whispered.
She nodded as her breath quickened. “All right.”
Lucy tightened her grip on my arm and nodded again. Then we ascended the staircase. When we reached the top, a vibration, like a chair being moved across the floor, came from the farthest room to the right. My heart caught in my chest; someone was here. I wanted to flee, but I forced myself down the hall toward the sound. The hallway was dark and only became more so as my pulse pounded in my ears. Lucy inhaled sharply. I reached forward and pushed the door open.
CHAPTER 32
On one side of the fireplace, there were two oversized leather chairs. On the other side was a large oak desk and a man methodically sorting through stacks of papers. Two tall windows flooded the room with light. When the door butted against the wall, he startled and looked up.
“Miss Larkin?” He shoved the remaining papers into one large pile. He winced at his mistake. He shouldn’t have known who I was.
“Mr. Pendleman,” I guessed. I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt. “What brings you to the Gallagher estate?”
Lucy dropped her grip on my arm and took a slight step toward a side table where an assortment of letter openers lay. I was sure she’d be able to defend me if it came to that.
“What brings you here?” He frantically stuffed a stack of papers into his leather satchel.
“I came to find you.” I spoke as simply as I could to avoid giving anything away.
He crossed to the front of the desk, mere feet from me, and held the briefcase in front of his chest. “Sanitarium or not, you are an interesting woman, Miss Larkin. I can see why Gregory was so intent to find you.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You are an interesting man as well. Interesting that you discovered me at Bellevue and hired a carriage last Sunday. Interesting the type of men you choose to do business with.”
Mr. Pendleman startled. “You know I tracked you down, eh?”
I coughed to stifle my surprise. “It wasn’t hard to uncover when I heard you and your associate outside my window.”
His face reddened, and he turned into the light. He was young, hardly a handful of years older than I. Gregory usually only used the most experienced men. What had caused him to hire this young man instead?
“You have no idea what kind of man Gregory is,” I whispered. “If you did, you wouldn’t take his money.”
“I think I have a better grasp than an escaped inmate does.” Mr. Pendleman fingered his collar nervously. I wondered if he was one of those who believed mental illness was contagious.
Placing the satchel on the desk, he untied his necktie to free his throat. Lucy pinched my arm and glanced from the satchel to me. I nodded my understanding. I’d keep Mr. Pendleman busy as long as I could.
“If you’d done your job, you’d know I’m not a lunatic or even affected. Perhaps you have gotten a chance to read my file. I chose Bellevue over marriage to Gregory. Have a seat, Mr. Pendleman, and I shall tell you why.”
I gestured to the chairs before the fire and to my surprise Mr. Pendleman came across the room, not giving mind to the satchel he’d left open on the desk. Lucy inched toward the desk slowly, but Mr. Pendleman didn’t notice her as he sat in the tall leather chair. Taking advantage of this distraction, Lucy grasped the satchel and began looking through the papers. Hoping I kept my façade of confidence, I lowered myself into the chair across from Mr. Pendleman. I jumped as the house settled, but relaxed when no other sound came. I prayed Lucy would find something. I met Mr. Pendleman’s gaze and set my shoulders as Mother always taught me. She said it exuded power.
The high-backed chair nearly engulfed Mr. Pendleman’s small frame. His suit looked navy against the black leather, and the bushy mustache seemed unkempt. Something in his look felt off for this situation. After a few moments it occurred to me. There was no skepticism or distaste in his gaze. He looked hopeful. As if I may have the key to some question he needed answered.
As I explained the truth of Gregory and Katerina, Lucy pulled the papers out one at a time and examined each. “So you see that is why I entered Bellevue,” I explained. “That is why Gregory had you seek me out, Mr. Pendleman, to silence me, not to save me.” Once the words were said, I wondered if I’d given him too much of my story to be safe, but also knew the worst he’d do was take me back to Bellevue and commit me for insane ramblings.
Mr. Pendleman held up a hand to pause my story. “Lawrence, please. My name is Lawrence. I was hired to find his beloved fiancée. Had my service concluded there, I would never have believed a word you’ve said. However, given what I have found here today, I believe it is possible you might be speaking the truth.” He adjusted his cuff links so he could avoid any eye contact.
Lucy’s speed with the papers picked up until she pulled a faded and torn one out and read it. Her eyes widened. As she skimmed the words, her hand rose to cover her mouth. I jumped to my feet and went to her side.
Lawrence turned over the side of the chair to follow me. “Ah,” he whispered. “I see your friend found it.”
I took the letter from Lucy’s hands and read the words for myself. In scrawled writing lay a letter to Gregory.
Dear Gregory,
This may not be for me to tell you and it certainly is not something you will want to hear, but I believe everyone deserves to know where they come from.
I love your mother like a sister. Therefore you know I’d never say something about her that was not true. Please do not hate me for what I’m about to tell you.
The year before you were born your mother went on an extended vacation to Paris, or so your father deemed it. In truth, she ran away to live with an impoverished artist with whom she fell in love. It didn’t last. When she returned, no one made much fuss about it. Your father covered her tracks well.
It was when you were born eight months later that many neighbors raised their eyebrows. In truth, the only thing that saved her reputation was how fervently your father claimed you as his own, not only giving you his name, but declaring you the heir to the Gallagher estate on the day you were birthed.
And yet, when your mother died, the name she whispered was Pierre, not your father’s. I don’t know what drew her to Pierre, nor why she returned. I only know he existed, and your mother loved him.
Perhaps it is mean of me to tell you this, but I cannot go to my grave without knowing that you have heard the truth.
Many Blessings,
Catherine Smarkal
The letter’s creases were worn, as if someone had opened it many times. The top corners were crinkled into rounded edges. It took me a moment to absorb what this letter implied. Gregory was a bastard, the product of an affair. I knew what men like Uncle Walter would say of him behind closed doors. If word of this leaked out, his career in politics would be over. The scandal would do him in.
Lucy took the paper from my hands and reread it for herself. “Who is Catherine Smarkal?” she asked.
I paced in front of the fireplace between Lawrence and Lucy. My mind flew through all my encounters with Katerina when I remembered why she had come to Oak Park in the first place. Her mother had told her to look up Gregory if she ever needed anything, but he wouldn’t see her. In fact, the mere mention of her terrified him. I gasped.
“That’s Katerina’s mother,” I exclaimed. “She must be. Gregory thought Katerina was coming to blackmail him. That was why she frightened him so deeply. He thought she knew all of this and would hold it against him to get what she wanted. That’s why he killed her.”
“You’re sure?” Lucy asked. “I don’t remember much about Katerina.”
I thought for a moment. “I’m sure. It read S . . . M . . . something on her post box.” I shivered at the thought. If I had walked away then and not followed the sound of the shouts, my life would be as I’d planned. I’d be married to Gregory. My stomach reeled at the thought.
Lucy gave a sudden scream of surprise and Lawrence jumped to his feet. Both stared at t
he doorway. I spun around to see what had startled them and I froze. Gregory’s tall frame filled the doorway.
“So, you finally found out.” He almost sounded relieved, as if something he long dreaded had finally happened. He crossed his arms over his chest, but didn’t pass through the threshold.
“Yes, now I know,” I said.
Behind my back, I folded the letter and motioned to Lucy to take it. Before she could react, Gregory held out his hand. “I’ll take the letter back.”
Lucy came to stand beside me. “It’s over. We know what happened.”
“Accident or not, Gregory. It’s time to go to the police,” Lawrence agreed.
Gregory ran a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew better than to hire you, Lawrence. Since school, you’ve always been so damn honest. But I also knew your reputation was yet unproved so I could accuse you of slander if things became too involved.”
Lawrence jumped in surprise. “You told me you loved her, that you missed her and needed to know where she’d run off to. Was all that a lie?” His eyes darted from Gregory to me in confusion.
Gregory slumped against the doorframe as his voice broke. “No. That’s the saddest part. I really do love her. Isabelle, you knew I didn’t love you when I first proposed, but your absence has made me see how much I truly care for you. I can’t imagine what you must think of me.” He pulled his eyes away from mine and blinked. “I must have that letter.”
Lawrence jumped in front of me. “Just turn yourself in. Tell the truth about what you did and clear the name of the woman you love.”
In a swift, almost casual movement, Gregory shoved Lawrence against the fireplace. Lawrence’s head smacked the brick mantle with a wet sound and he slumped to the floor.
Gregory looked down at his schoolmate for a moment before returning his attention to Lucy and me. “Just give me the letter, and I’ll leave.” His mustache twitched as he spoke. It was a movement I’d never seen. That alone put me more on guard than I was already.