To Steal a Heart

by Jen Turano

  Phillip glanced at Daphne, who was busy writing something onto her notepad, seemingly oblivious to anything going on around her, including their wild ride through the city. He returned his attention to Gabriella. “Of course I insisted on accompanying you. That extraordinary happenstance could very well see you leaving me, and besides . . .” He flashed her a bit of a grin. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to visit your boardinghouse for ages. You’ve often mentioned tidbits about the many women residing there—women who, much to my delight, aren’t married.”

  Daphne raised her head from her notes. “And here I’ve been thinking that you and Gabriella were taking your friendship into, well, romantic territory, since I burst in on what looked to be a most intimate conversation.” She returned to her notes again, scratched something out, then sent Phillip a stern look. “Just to be clear, though, I’m not in the market for a suitor.”

  Phillip blinked. “Duly noted, and with that settled, shall we finally get—”

  Whatever else he’d been about to say got lost when the carriage careened around a turn, sending all of them tumbling to the left.

  “I believe it’s time for an intervention,” Phillip muttered after he righted himself. Lifting his hand, he flipped open the small window that was directly beneath the driver’s seat. “Pull over,” he called to Elsy and Ann.

  “And what makes you think we’ll be able to do that?” Elsy called back.

  “Pull back on the reins, yell ‘Whoa,’ and see what happens,” Phillip called, lurching forward as the carriage suddenly came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the street, causing a ruckus from the other drivers on the road.

  “I’m taking over the reins” was all Phillip said before he jumped out of the carriage. Less than thirty seconds later, the carriage rolled smoothly into motion.

  “Should I wait until we’re back at the boardinghouse before explaining why Eunice wanted me to fetch you after work today?” Daphne asked. “Phillip obviously wants to hear the particulars, but he’s clearly no longer in the carriage with us.”

  “I’ll fill him in later, or I imagine he’ll charm it out of Elsy and Ann. So out with it—what’s happened?”

  Daphne tilted back her top hat. “I’ll begin with Ann, since she’s responsible for the peculiar circumstances that happened today. You see, she disclosed information to Mrs. Bracken, one of her employers, and that information is what turned the day peculiar.”

  Instead of continuing, Daphne reached for her notepad and began reading through her notes.

  “Is this really the time to get distracted again?”

  “I’m not distracted. I’m making certain I’m telling you everything in the right order.” Daphne looked up. “While Ann was with Mrs. Bracken, guests arrived, and while enjoying tea with those guests, Ann found herself listening to a conversation regarding Celeste Wilkins and her involvement with the Linwood jewel heist. Apparently, the ladies were curious as to how she’d been caught, and that’s when Ann decided to speak up, telling those ladies that the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency was responsible for solving most of the case.”

  “Why would she bring up the agency?”

  “Because, not that you’d know this because you’ve been working extra hours this week, but we residents of the boardinghouse have been earnestly discussing opening up a real agency. It’s become clear that all of us really do have many different talents, which could be put to good use helping women in need. The problem we’ve been faced with, though, was how to get the word out, especially when none of us have much experience being inquiry agents.”

  “Except with Jennette’s case, which we solved,” Gabriella said.

  “Too right we did, and that’s what Ann told Mrs. Bracken and her guests. From what Ann said when she returned home, all of Mrs. Bracken’s guests were enthralled with the idea of an inquiry agency made up of women.”

  Gabriella frowned. “And that’s why Eunice wanted you to come fetch me after work today? Because some ladies were enthralled with the idea of an agency run by women?”

  Daphne waved that aside. “Not at all. She wanted you fetched home because about an hour after Ann told us this story, ladies began arriving at the boardinghouse, looking to speak to agents of the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency. Ann had told Mrs. Bracken that the agency was relatively new, which is why the agents were temporarily working out of the boardinghouse until a permanent office could be procured.”

  “How many ladies showed up at the boardinghouse?”

  “I lost count after thirty. Evidently, there truly is a need for the Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency, and that’s one of the reasons why Eunice wanted me to fetch you home after work. She wants to discuss the particulars with you because, out of all of us, you’re the one with the most talent for skullduggery and investigative fieldwork.”

  “I don’t know anything about investigative fieldwork.”

  “’Course you do. Your time on the street provided you with ample experience to do inquiry work, something you proved while investigating Jennette’s case.”

  Gabriella’s brows drew together. “And these ladies who arrived out of the blue today, they want to hire us?”

  “Indeed, and they want to hire us for all sorts of different matters. One of the ladies I spoke with today would like us to look into the finances of a gentleman who is interested in courting her daughter. According to Eunice, that lady is willing to spend whatever it takes to prove this gentleman is lying about the state of his fortune.”

  “Why wouldn’t these ladies turn to the usual places to assist them with their troubles, such as the police department or the Pinkertons?”

  “Most of them have tried the usual channels, but to no avail. We were told time and again that these ladies’ concerns were not taken seriously because they’re ladies, whom many men believe overexaggerate their difficulties.” Daphne leaned forward. “I think they want to hire us because they feel they can trust us.”

  “Intriguing as all of this sounds,” Gabriella began slowly, “especially after how much I enjoyed clearing Jennette’s name, I can’t give up my job simply because a few ladies want to pay for inquiry services.”

  “It’s more than a few ladies.”

  “But you also have a job, one that has to be somewhat lucrative, and one you seem to enjoy. Surely you’re not considering abandoning your writing to become an inquiry agent, are you?”

  “Of course not. I’ll simply do both, as could you. But speaking of money, another reason Eunice wanted me to fetch you back instead of having you take the El, which is not exactly reliable, is because there’s a lady with very deep pockets who wants to procure our services. She has a problem Eunice believes you’re well equipped to handle.”

  “How so?”

  “Eunice didn’t go into detail, saying she’d explain after I fetched you home. And since we seem to be slowing down, I’m going to assume we’re almost there.” Daphne smiled. “It certainly was fortunate Phillip insisted on accompanying you back to the boardinghouse. Who knows where we would have ended up if he’d not taken control of the reins, given Elsy and Ann’s somewhat questionable driving abilities.”

  A second later, the carriage pulled to a stop, and then Ann was holding open the door for Gabriella and Daphne, her cheeks flushed and her red hair straggling out from underneath her hat.

  “Phillip certainly knows what he’s about with horses,” Ann said, stepping aside to allow Gabriella out of the carriage. “And,” she continued, “he’s even now giving Elsy a quick lesson on how to better manage the reins.”

  Glancing up, Gabriella found Elsy in earnest conversation with Phillip, nodding her head and smiling brightly as Phillip explained the proper way to hold the reins.

  “Yet another odd circumstance to my very odd day,” she murmured before she headed for the front steps, scooting to the side when two ladies stepped out of the boardinghouse, whispering furiously to each other, Gabriella catching a “reason to hope” from one of the ladies as she hu
rried past.

  “Ah, Gabriella, there you are,” Ivan Chernoff boomed from where he was holding open the front door, his jacket sporting not a single wrinkle and his short blond hair meticulously combed away from his face. “Eunice has been waiting for you for a rather long time.”

  “Which is unfortunate, but perhaps it would have been better if you would have fetched me,” Gabriella returned. “Elsy and Ann had some trouble with the carriage, so much so that they apparently took a turn around the Battery before they were able to get back on track.”

  “A troubling situation, to be sure, but I couldn’t very well have left Eunice to deal with the barrage of ladies practically beating down our door.” He gestured to a white sign painted in black lettering, The Bleecker Street Inquiry Agency standing out in sharp relief against the white. “Eunice insisted on having Miss Judith Donovan, our resident artist, paint that, even though I’ve been very vocal with my disapproval about this ridiculous inquiry idea. It was supposed to be a one-time endeavor, not a business.”

  “Why do you disapprove?”

  “It’s dangerous for all of you, but especially for Eunice, who knows what’s at . . .” Ivan’s voice trailed to nothing as a lady wearing a large hat with numerous stuffed birds on it hurried from the house, dabbing at watery eyes with a handkerchief. Ivan watched her disappear down the sidewalk, shaking his head. “Given the desperate state of the majority of ladies who’ve come here today, I doubt Eunice will be persuaded to listen to reason, no matter that she’s placing herself in certain peril if she goes forward with this harebrained idea to open up a real inquiry agency.”

  “Certain peril?” Gabriella pressed.

  “Never you mind about that,” Ivan said shortly before he strode into the house, leaving Gabriella behind.

  “Ivan doesn’t appear to have gotten out of the abysmal mood he was in before I left,” Daphne said, stopping beside Gabriella.

  “He seems to believe we’re placing ourselves in danger.”

  “Inquiry and danger go hand in hand, or at least I imagine they do. I only have limited experience to draw on, but the Birkhoff ball turned into a most dangerous affair, as did the Lanham ball, or rather, what happened after it.”

  “You hid behind a shrub after the Lanham ball. And in case you’ve forgotten, you were unconscious for most of the dangerous parts at the Birkhoff house.”

  Daphne’s lips curved. “True, but hiding behind that shrub took more bravery than I knew I possessed, so as far as I’m concerned, I’m making progress.”

  Unable to help but smile over that nonsense, Gabriella walked with Daphne into the house, then down a narrow hallway and toward the parlor, where Daphne said Eunice had set up shop.

  Stepping into the room, Gabriella came to an abrupt stop at the sight that met her eyes.

  In her absence, the parlor had been rearranged. Instead of comfy chairs and settees scattered around the room, those chairs were now placed in front of a wide assortment of side tables being manned by residents of the boardinghouse.

  Miss Florence Shaw, who worked at Tiffany’s jewelry store, and who must have only recently gotten home from work, since she still had a scarf wrapped around her throat, was writing something down as the lady who sat opposite her gestured wildly with her hands, her eyes brimming with anger.

  Gabriella looked past Florence to the next table and found Alma Kozlov, the resident cook, speaking with a young lady who seemed so overcome by the story she was telling that she kept gulping in breaths of air before she’d launch into another sentence, stopping directly after finishing that sentence to wipe tears from her cheeks.

  Beyond Alma sat Miss Lulah Wallace, who’d provided Gabriella and Daphne with the costumes they’d worn when they went out as Mrs. and Miss Kaffenburgh. Lulah was nodding her head as she scribbled away, trying to keep up with a lady who was speaking rapidly, her color high and her voice shrill.

  Turning her attention to the far side of the room, Gabriella found Miss Betsy Adler, who worked as an assistant at St. Luke’s Chapel off of Christopher Street, sharing a table with Miss Judith Donovan, who’d painted the front sign. Judith didn’t currently hold a position anywhere but had inherited a small sum of money from an aunt, which allowed her to pursue her love of painting. Eunice had rented her the loft in the carriage house to use as her artist studio. Both women were speaking with an incredibly sad-looking lady who kept dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

  Gabriella looked past Florence and Judith and found Eunice sitting at the very back of the room next to the window, dressed all in black, a short veil covering her face.

  “Ah, Gabriella, there you are,” Eunice called out, waving Gabriella forward. “I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to be returning this evening.” She waited until Gabriella stopped directly in front of the desk before saying, “I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Instead of introducing her to the lady sitting across from her, though, Eunice stood, told the lady she’d be back directly, then took Gabriella’s arm, tugging her across the parlor, through the door, and down the hallway to the small sitting room Eunice kept for her particular use. Nodding to an older lady sitting on a settee placed in front of the fireplace, Eunice took a seat directly across from that lady while Gabriella took a seat next to Eunice.

  “Mrs. Sampson, I’d like you to meet the woman I told you about. This is Miss Gabriella Goodhue. Gabriella, Mrs. Randall Sampson.”

  Gabriella inclined her head as Mrs. Sampson gave her a once-over before she returned her attention to Eunice. “She seems young. I was expecting someone more seasoned.”

  “She’s seasoned, and as I mentioned before, she was instrumental in solving the Linwood case,” Eunice replied crisply. “But it’ll be up to Gabriella whether or not we take on your case, because as I also mentioned, it’s a very complicated case because of the high standing in society you and the rest of your family hold.”

  “It’ll look poorly on my son if word of my troubling situation gets out,” Mrs. Sampson said, her voice quavering. “I will not allow that to happen. But if I don’t act, I’ll soon find myself buried away in an asylum, exactly where my daughter-in-law is determined to see me taken.”

  “Why don’t you explain what you need,” Gabriella encouraged, sitting forward on the seat.

  “Angelica Sampson, my daughter-in-law,” Mrs. Sampson began, “is trying to convince my son I’ve lost my mind. She’s taking things from me—jewelry, hairpins, money, and even a piece of toast I was enjoying. She then uses my bewilderment as to where those items have gone to prove to my son that my memory is rapidly deteriorating. She’s been so good at setting me up that my son has taken to looking into asylums, should I completely lose my mind, something I’m certain Angelica will soon convince my Louis I’ve lost.”

  Gabriella glanced to Eunice. “Why do you believe I’m the one who can assist her?”

  “Mrs. Sampson told me she’s certain Angelica is stashing all these objects in a safe that’s located in the room Mrs. Sampson occupied before her husband died and Angelica took over that room.”

  Gabriella looked back to Mrs. Sampson. “If you believe your missing items are in this safe, and it used to be yours, why haven’t you simply checked for yourself to see if you’re right?”

  “Because it’s a safe that’s unlocked with a key. Angelica’s keeping that key on her person at all times, making it impossible for me to prove my theory.”

  A sliver of anticipation traveled up Gabriella’s spine. “I’m beginning to see how I might be able to help, but it’ll be tricky getting close enough to your daughter-in-law to get that key.”

  Eunice sat forward. “Not if you do it at the Fairchild ball that’s to be held tomorrow night. Angelica’s to be in attendance, and because the Fairchild ball is certain to be a crush, you shouldn’t have an issue with getting close to her.”

  “Dare I hope the Fairchild ball is to be a costume ball?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Eunice s
aid. “However, Elsy has recently gotten a much-needed knitting lesson from a member of the Fairchild staff. She’s confident that, if the price is right, she’ll be able to arrange to get you a position as one of the extra footmen the Fairchilds will be hiring for the event.”

  “I’ll cover whatever costs are incurred in getting you admitted into the ball,” Mrs. Sampson hurried to say. “In fact, if you take on my case, I’ll pay whatever fee you feel your services deserve.”

  Eunice turned to Gabriella. “What do you believe is a fair charge if you agree to take on this most daunting case, one that will either see Mrs. Sampson living her life as a free woman or shut away in an asylum for the rest of her days?”

  “Now there’s a compelling way to get me to agree to take on this case,” Gabriella muttered before she caught Mrs. Sampson’s eye. “What do you believe a fair price would be?”

  Mrs. Sampson opened her reticule and pulled out a wad of bills. “I have a thousand dollars with me. I’ll be happy to give you another thousand if you’re successful with retrieving the key, retrieving my belongings, and then replacing the key on Angelica’s person so that she doesn’t become aware I’m on to her yet.”

  Gabriella blinked. “You want me to steal the key, open the safe, retrieve your belongings, and then return to the ball to slip the key back into Angelica’s reticule?”

  “She doesn’t keep it in her reticule. She wears it on a chain around her neck.”

  “Of course she does.” Gabriella frowned. “Why does your daughter-in-law want to get rid of you?”

  “She believes I don’t like her.”

  “And do you?”

  “She wants to send me off to an asylum. No, I don’t care for her in the least.”

  “But she can’t have always wanted to send you off to an asylum. There must have been something that triggered her to convince your son you were losing your mind.”