City of Secrets
Page 5
CHAPTER THREE
ELIZABETH TRIED NOT TO SMILE KNOWINGLY WHEN SHE SAID TO Gideon, “Your minister owns a brothel?”
But Gideon’s handsome face, which she loved so dearly, was creased into a puzzled frown. “Reverend Honesdale’s given name is Peter.”
“A relative, perhaps,” the Old Man said. “It’s not a common name.”
“But . . .” Gideon shook his head in silent denial. “The Honesdales are a family of divines. His father is a minister, and his grandfather was before him.”
“A black sheep cousin, then. You should ask him.”
“I’m not going to ask a minister if his family owns whorehouses,” Gideon said, and Elizabeth was very much afraid he was getting truly angry.
“Not Reverend Honesdale,” she said quickly. “Ask this Matthew.”
“Ask him if he’s a blackmailer?” Gideon was incredulous.
She had no answer for that.
“Maybe one of your clients left him a legacy and you need to see him,” the Old Man said.
“Who would . . . ? Oh, I see. I should lie to him.”
“It’s not unheard of,” the Old Man said slyly. He knew about Gideon’s aversion to lying.
“You don’t have to lie,” Elizabeth said. “Tell him his name came up when you were settling an estate. That’s perfectly true.”
“And then I ask him if he’s a blackmailer?” Gideon asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
“Perhaps not at your very first meeting,” the Old Man said. He was enjoying Gideon’s discomfort far too much for Elizabeth’s taste. “But you can get a feel for the man and at least see his reaction when you mention this poor fellow’s name. You might even show him the photograph.”
“And what? Ask him if he recognizes the people in it?”
“Or see if he flinches. The man owns whorehouses, as you pointed out. He won’t be easily shocked, but not many men could look at what you described without reacting.”
“I see,” Gideon said. “And if he doesn’t react, then I’ll know he’s familiar with such things.”
“Getting him to admit it might be difficult, but you’ll at least have a clue to how involved he is.”
“Good, that’s settled,” Elizabeth said. “Can we go inside now?”
“Of course.” Gideon quickly slipped his arm around her to escort her back into the house. “I’m sorry. I should have given you my coat.”
“Yes, you should have.”
The Old Man, still puffing on his cigar, made no move to follow, but he did say, “Give your charming mother my regards, son.”
Elizabeth chose not to notice how Gideon stiffened at the sentiment.
“There you are,” Anna said, emerging from the parlor to find them in the hallway. “Were you outside canoodling?”
“Hardly,” Gideon said grumpily, hanging his coat back on the coat tree.
“Consulting with the Old Man on some business,” Elizabeth said. “What have you been doing?”
“Discussing Wordsworth with Miss Adams. She hates Wordsworth.”
“Oh dear.”
“I hate Wordsworth, too, but that’s beside the point. The point is that you two have been up to something and I know nothing about it.” Anna pretended to pout.
Elizabeth glanced at Gideon and caught a panicked expression on his face. Plainly, he did not want to explain Endicott Knight and his predicament to his best friend’s younger sister. “It’s Priscilla Knight,” Elizabeth said to rescue him. “She . . . There are some problems with her late husband’s estate.”
“And you’re helping her?” Anna asked Gideon.
“I’m trying to,” he hedged.
Anna gave Elizabeth a shrewd look. “And Mr. Miles is helping you.”
All of them knew perfectly well no reputable attorney would consult a con artist for assistance in the usual course of things.
“It’s a very unusual case,” Elizabeth offered.
Anna smiled sweetly. “It must be.”
“Is Miss Adams alone? I should go sit with her,” Gideon said with a notable air of desperation.
“Yes, do,” Anna said. “Just don’t mention Wordsworth.”
Gideon fled, the coward, leaving the woman he supposedly loved to deal with Anna’s curiosity. Elizabeth would enjoy getting her revenge for this.
“You look lovely tonight,” Elizabeth said in an effort to distract her friend.
“Everyone says that, and not just tonight. It’s become a constant theme. It’s flattering, of course, but honestly, if everyone is noticing the improvement, I must have looked like a mud hen before.”
“Before what?”
“Before I murdered you, I think. At least, that’s about the time people started noticing me and telling me I looked lovely.”
Elizabeth sighed. She would always regret involving Anna in faking her own death, but at the time, it had been the only way to make sure the man she was conning wouldn’t ever return and really try to kill her. “I suppose committing murder does wonders for one’s complexion.”
“I don’t think it’s my complexion. Unless it’s true that bathing in the blood of virgins keeps you young or something.”
“Where on earth did you hear that?”
“Oh, I read it in a book Zelda lent me.”
“Good heavens. But you haven’t really been bathing in the blood of virgins, have you?”
“No, and not in any other kind of blood, either. All I did was pretend to murder you. You were the one who had the blood on you, and it was only chicken blood. So why do you think people are suddenly noticing that I’m lovely?”
“Because you are. But don’t let it go to your head.”
“You sound like my mother,” Anna complained.
“Pride goes before a fall.”
“Which is also what my mother always says. So how would murdering someone make me prettier?”
“It’s your confidence, I think. You . . . you’re braver. Yes, I’m sure that’s it.”
“Really? When we were in jail, I told you I wished I could be brave like you.”
“And now you are, and people are noticing.”
“But don’t think for a moment that you’re distracting me from my purpose,” Anna said. “What are you and Gideon up to?”
“Nothing you can help with, I’m afraid.” She glanced around to make sure they were still alone. “Priscilla Knight’s late husband was being blackmailed.”
“Blackmailed!” Anna exclaimed too loudly, then clapped a hand over her mouth as if to stifle herself.
“Yes, and now he’s dead, so there’s nothing to be done about it.”
Anna considered this for a moment. “Then why were you consulting your father about it?”
Drat. Anna was much too smart for her own good. Or for Elizabeth’s good. “He apparently spent all of his and Priscilla’s money paying the blackmail, leaving her with nothing.”
“Was Mr. Miles the blackmailer?”
“Of course not!” The Old Man was far from perfect, but he wouldn’t stoop that low. Or at least Elizabeth hoped he wouldn’t.
“Then why—”
“Gideon thought he might know how to deal with a blackmailer, but he doesn’t. No more questions, please! This whole situation is very painful for Priscilla.” Or at least it would be when she found out. If only she never had to.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Of course it is. How awful, although it’s hard to believe Endicott Knight ever did anything he could be blackmailed for.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He was so boring. He hardly ever had two words to say to anyone. I could never figure out why Priscilla married him.”
“Really? Didn’t you hear any gossip about it?”
“Hmmm. Yes, now that you mention it. I think someone said
Mr. Jenks hadn’t left her anything and she had to remarry quickly.”
“Who told you that?”
“I . . . You know, I can’t remember.”
“Think hard.”
Anna brightened. “Is it important?”
“It could be.”
“Well, then, let me see . . .”
“Was it Mrs. Honesdale?”
Anna frowned. “She doesn’t gossip.”
“What do you mean, she doesn’t gossip? Everyone gossips.”
“She doesn’t approve of it. I suppose being the minister’s wife, she has to be above suspicion and all that.”
This didn’t fit Elizabeth’s theory at all, which meant Anna must be mistaken. “She never says anything about anyone? Even for their own good?”
“Oh no. She always says . . .”
“What does she say?” Elizabeth prodded when Anna hesitated.
“How interesting.”
“What’s interesting?”
“I never realized it until this moment, but . . . You see, she always scolds people for gossiping, but she still . . .”
Elizabeth wanted to shake her. “What does she still do?”
“She still manages to say things. Now that you’ve forced me to think about it, I realize it was Mrs. Honesdale who told me Priscilla had been left penniless, except she never really said that.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing of consequence. I mean, people were very surprised when Mrs. Knight remarried so quickly and of course they were talking about it.”
“I know, expressing their surprise while really expressing their shock and disapproval.”
“Exactly. So Mrs. Honesdale scolded them for thinking badly of Mrs. Knight. She said . . . I’m not sure I remember exactly what she said, but something about how difficult it was for a widow left alone with no resources. At least that was the meaning, and we all understood she was chastening us for judging Mrs. Knight so harshly when she really had no other recourse.”
“How very clever. I’ll have to remember that.”
“And it worked beautifully. All the gossip stopped, or at least the disapproval of her hasty remarriage. Everyone was too busy wondering how DeForrest Jenks had managed to run through all his money.”
“So Mrs. Honesdale didn’t stop the gossip at all. She just redirected it.”
“I suppose so, but no one thought badly of Mrs. Knight anymore.”
“And it looks like Mrs. Honesdale did Mrs. Knight a good turn, except for one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“DeForrest Jenks did not run through his fortune, and he did not leave Priscilla penniless. In fact, she was quite well off.”
“Really? Where would Mrs. Honesdale get the idea that she wasn’t?”
“I have no idea.”
“And now I really don’t understand why Priscilla married Mr. Knight.”
Elizabeth wasn’t going to explain it to her. She didn’t want Anna mixed up in this sordid mess. “I never met the man, but maybe he was quite charming when you got to know him.”
“That’s right, he died right before we went to Washington, and we didn’t even know you then. Priscilla wanted to go with us, you know, but Mr. Knight died, and, well, a woman in full mourning can’t demonstrate outside the White House.”
“Is that really a rule? I don’t remember reading it in Mrs. Ordway’s book.”
“I doubt Mrs. Ordway’s book has a chapter on the etiquette of demonstrating for women’s suffrage, but widows in full mourning are hardly allowed to leave their homes, so I’m sure demonstrating would be frowned upon.”
“You’re probably right. I’m sure Priscilla wasn’t sorry to have missed our subsequent stay at the workhouse, though.”
“Or the hunger strike, but you’d be amazed how many women have told me they envied me for my experiences.”
“That’s only because they didn’t share them.”
“What are you two doing out here?” Cybil asked, coming into the hallway from the kitchen. Elizabeth’s aunt enjoyed dressing exotically, which she could not normally do in her position as a professor at Hunter College but which she always did at her Monday evening salons. Tonight she wore a red silk Japanese kimono and embroidered satin slippers. Her gray-streaked hair was twisted in a knot on top of her head and held in place by long, black lacquered sticks.
“We’re gossiping,” Anna told her. “Because Elizabeth is trying very hard to distract me from finding out what she and Gideon are up to.”
“Do you think they’re planning an elopement?” Cybil asked hopefully.
“Nothing so romantic, and Gideon would never elope. He’s far too stodgy and traditional.”
“But he is quite charming when you get to know him,” Elizabeth countered.
“He certainly is,” Cybil said loyally. “Do you realize he’s in there talking to Miss Adams? He’s a saint.”
A lily-livered saint, but Elizabeth wasn’t going to admit it.
The front door opened and the Old Man stepped inside, bringing a burst of cold air with him.
“Buster, are you still here?” Cybil said.
“Obviously.” He frowned at her use of his childhood nickname. She was the only person alive who dared use it.
“I believe this is the longest you’ve ever stayed at one of my salons.”
“A record I will most likely never break. Miss Vanderslice, you are looking lovely this evening.”
Anna gave Elizabeth a knowing glance. “Thank you, Mr. Miles. I hope you are well.”
“I am. How is your charming mother?”
“As charming as ever. There seems to be an abundance of that lately.”
“Are you leaving? I would be happy to escort you home.”
“You don’t need an excuse to leave, Buster,” Cybil said.
“I was thinking Gideon might want to spend more time with Elizabeth this evening.”
“More time to plot or more time to canoodle?” Anna asked slyly.
“There will be no canoodling on my watch,” Cybil said.
“So plotting it is,” Anna said. “I suppose it is getting late, Mr. Miles, and I’m sure my mother would be delighted to offer you some refreshment for delivering me safely.”
“Won’t she be surprised to see him?” Elizabeth said. “The last she heard of him, he’d been arrested.”
“Oh, we never told her any of that. As far as she knows, Mr. Miles is still upstanding General Sterling.”
“General Sterling?” Cybil echoed in confusion.
“It was a con,” Elizabeth explained, waving away her concern. “The Old Man had to pretend to be a general.”
“Did he con Anna’s poor mother?” Cybil asked in dismay.
“Oh no!” Elizabeth assured her. “Someone else entirely, but Anna’s mother still thinks he’s a general, and David thinks General Sterling was arrested.”
“What a tangled web we weave . . .” Cybil recited gleefully.
The Old Man sighed dramatically. “I can see I will have to leave you to Gideon’s care, then, Miss Vanderslice. Cybil, it has been a pleasure as always.” He turned to Elizabeth and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Keep me posted on your progress.” Since he already had his overcoat on, he took his leave.
“Elizabeth, you aren’t doing anything you shouldn’t, are you?” Cybil asked, concerned again.
“Not at all.” At least she hoped not.
* * *
• • •
THE NEXT MORNING, ELIZABETH WENT TO GIDEON’S OFFICE, where they could discuss the blackmail situation without worrying about being overheard. This time Gideon’s clerk greeted her warmly and ushered her right into Gideon’s office.
“Did I have an appointment?” she asked when Gideon had kissed her thoroughly.
“Can he be trusted?”
“Smith would carry our secret to his grave if necessary.”
“Goodness, I hadn’t planned on quite that long of an engagement.”
“I assure you, it will not be one moment longer than absolutely necessary.”
Placated, Elizabeth took one of the client chairs and Gideon took the other. “What are you planning to do about Matthew Honesdale?” she asked.
He took one of her hands in his. “I could hardly sleep last night for thinking about it. I can’t think of any way to approach him that he’s likely to respond to.”
“What about the estate question the Old Man suggested?”
“It might work to get him to my office, but what do I say once he’s here? I can hardly accuse him of blackmail the minute he walks in the door. No man would sit still for that.”
“No, he wouldn’t.”
“And he’s certainly not mentioned in Endicott Knight’s will, or at least I don’t think so, and even if he was, I’m not handling Knight’s estate. If he wants to see the will, I couldn’t show him anything.”
“Even if you were willing to lie and claim he’s inheriting half the estate,” Elizabeth finished the thought for him. “How about if you don’t say anything at all but just introduce him to Mrs. Knight?”
“Are you suggesting I bring poor Priscilla in to meet this . . . this . . . ?”
“Pimp?” she said helpfully.
“Elizabeth, really . . .”
“I’m sorry.” And she was. He was blushing furiously. “And no, I’m not suggesting you involve Priscilla at all. Presumably, he’s never met her, so any heavily veiled female would do.”
“But who . . . ?” he began and caught himself when the truth dawned. “Oh no, I’m not going to bring you in here to meet a . . . a pimp, either.”
“I’m far less innocent than Priscilla, and nothing he says can hurt me, since I’m not really Knight’s widow.”
“You have no idea what he might say. I refuse to subject you to that.”
“He’s probably going to be on his good behavior, since he’s in a fancy attorney’s office and he’s meeting a respectable female.”