“You should know.” It was said barely above a whisper, but Noreen heard it and so did the others.
“You’re right, Talia, but I pulled myself back up from the depths to get back to work. I don’t plan to lose that, ever again.”
Edwin turned on his heel. “And why are we discussing this with strangers about?”
“She’s not exactly a stranger, Edwin.” Noreen quickly explained how Charlie’s body had been found at Bonheur and how Belle had run away, about locking Deanna in the linen closet and finally meeting at Joe’s and being questioned by Will. What she didn’t tell them was that Deanna knew where Belle was hiding.
“My goodness,” Edwin said. “You have been busy. Have you ever thought about becoming an actress?”
“No, she hasn’t,” Elspeth said. “She’s a lady and a detective.”
Deanna cut her eyes to Elspeth.
“Well, we read about lady detectives,” Elspeth amended. “Sorry, miss.”
“Not exactly a fabrication,” Noreen said. “And I think she may be able to help us. But we have to level with her.”
Deanna was finding it hard to swallow, literally and figuratively. Her? A lady detective? Somehow it didn’t seem so exciting an idea now.
“A lady detective, how swell. It sounds just like something out of a dime novel,” Gil said.
Any other time Deanna would have enlightened him on the subject. There were several women detectives working at the Pinkerton agency, and many women spies still working even though the Civil War had been over for several decades.
“So how is that going to help us? Blame me or Tim or Talia or any of the others for the murder, because I bet she can’t find her needle in her sewing box without her little maid here.”
“She knows where Belle is hiding.”
All eyes turned to Noreen, then Deanna.
“Where?”
“You have to tell us.”
“She could be in danger.”
“We’ll make her tell.”
Deanna began to seriously worry about her own safety.
“Quiet,” Noreen said. “I already tried to get her to tell. But now that I’ve had time to think about it, I don’t think she should tell. Not anyone, including us and the police.”
“Why?”
“Because if Rollie didn’t kill Charlie—and I think we can be assured that he didn’t—and Belle didn’t kill Charlie—”
“She would never.”
“Never,” echoed around the group, except for Talia, who remained tight-lipped and frowning daggers at Noreen.
“Then,” Noreen continued, “the murderer is still out there. And he—or she—may be planning to kill Belle next. Or even one of us.”
* * *
Joe turned from the mantel and walked back to the drinks table, a path that he’d been treading for the past twenty minutes. He should have insisted on going with Noreen and Dee in the cab. No telling what they would concoct alone together. “It shouldn’t be taking this long to pack up a few belongings and come to Bonheur.”
Will sat with a glass of whiskey at his elbow. “Gran Gwen? Is this an inordinate amount of time for a woman to spend packing?”
Gwen shrugged. “She’s an actress. I imagine she’s had occasion more than once to throw her things into a case and climb out a hotel window to escape payment. Those tours are notorious for stranding actors in towns miles from anywhere and without a penny to their names.”
“Does that mean yes?” Joe asked.
“Really, Joseph, your manners.”
“Sorry, Grandmère, but . . .”
“I know, and if you’re worried about Dee, I think you and Will should take a carriage and go look for them.”
“You’re worried, too.”
“Not really, but there is possibly a killer loose out there. I would hate to be sitting here sipping sherry when Dee might be in danger. What would I tell her mother?”
“You might make light of this, but I think we should go.”
Will was on his feet and they were headed to the door when the sound of a carriage stopped them. Joe hurried to the bay window and looked out. “It’s them.”
Will returned to his chair and picked up his glass. Joe went back to the mantelpiece and his own glass.
A few minutes later, Noreen and Deanna entered the parlor.
Will stood; Joe faced the doorway.
“Sorry we took so long. We dropped Noreen’s things off at the hotel on our way.”
“Gran Gwen,” Deanna said, “this is Noreen Adams.”
Gran offered her hand. “Joseph has told me about you. I’m so happy that you’ve joined us.”
Noreen barely hesitated before she extended her own hand. “Thank you, though I’m afraid this business has interfered with your evening at home.”
“Nonsense, dinner will be served soon. You don’t mind an early dinner, do you, Miss Adams?”
“No, not at all, but you really needn’t include me. I’ve only come at the police sergeant’s insistence.”
“We’re delighted to have you. Aren’t we, Deanna?”
“Yes, and besides, I can’t wait until after Will’s interrogation to eat. I’m starving. I haven’t had a thing since breakfast. And I’m sorry I didn’t get back in time for luncheon and the afternoon drive, but I’ve been rather busy.”
“I can imagine,” Gwen said. “Joseph, pour Deanna and Miss Adams a sherry.”
Since Gran Gwen refused to discuss investigations, arrests, or sordid news items at the table—bad for the digestion and a slap in the face to Cook—dinner was an enjoyable affair. Noreen was encouraged to talk about her work and her little girl. Stories of Joe, Will, and Deanna’s brother, Bob, growing up on the island were recounted. As well as all the tricks they played on Deanna, incidents which were somewhat embarrassing to her, but the memories made it feel like happier times.
“I can tell they are all very fond of you,” Noreen said to Deanna as they repaired upstairs after dinner. “I envy you that.”
“Well, we were friends once. Then our fathers, Joe’s and mine—decided we should get married. Consolidate the family fortunes.”
“And you refused?”
Deanna shook her head. “I didn’t have time to. Joe never even asked me, but moved to the Fifth Ward to his warehouse to work on his inventions.”
“Oh dear, a humiliation?”
Deanna shrugged. “Only to my mother.”
“Ah. Well, if you want him, I wouldn’t give up. Men are . . . what am I saying? I have no idea. I made a terrible mess of things. But Joseph has a passion for his work, it’s very clear.”
“I know. Of that I’m a little jealous.”
“Because you think he has no room for you?”
“Oh no. It’s because I don’t have an all-consuming passion myself.”
Noreen broke into her throaty laugh. “I have no doubt that you will find one. Now we had better go back to face the music or they’ll think we ran off again.”
But when they came downstairs Gran Gwen was sitting alone in the conservatory.
Deanna couldn’t repress a shudder as she and Noreen walked down the carpeted flagstone to where she was sitting in a high-back chair.
“Joseph and William are outside. I suspect Will has taken up a pipe and Joseph insisted that he show him the terrain that was searched the other morning. So we’re quite at our leisure for a bit. However, they fully intend on talking with you both, which Will said very sternly, so shall I assume you have knowledge they don’t and are refusing to tell them?”
“Yes, Gran Gwen.” Deanna glanced at Noreen. “At least I do, but I promised not to tell. But I did manage to retrieve these. She pulled out the handkerchief that she had tied the earrings into and untied it before presenting it to Gran Gwen.
“My, my. Whe
re on earth did you find these?” Gwen glanced at Deanna. “Or is that one of the things you promised not to tell?”
“Yes, but she’s sorry. She says she was desperate.”
Noreen leaned over to see what was in the handkerchief. “They’re real?”
“Yes,” Gwen said. “And of much sentimental value.”
“Oh, Gran Gwen. I’m in such a fix. Will is going to ask me all sorts of questions that I promised not to tell.”
Noreen nodded. She looked from Deanna to Gwen. “I don’t think any of us realized . . . I still don’t understand what happened.”
“Neither do we,” Will said, striding into the room from the outside. Joe was right behind him.
Deanna noticed that Gran Gwen quickly folded the handkerchief and held it in her lap.
“Well, gentlemen, did you find any elucidating evidence that you missed before?” Gwen asked.
Chapter
18
“No,” Will said, sitting down. “Not that I expected to. We made a thorough search that morning. Found nothing then. More of the same tonight.”
“You’d expect to find churned-up sod,” Deanna added.
Will gave her a tired look. “Have you been mucking about in my crime scene?” He shrugged. “You’re correct. I don’t think there was a struggle. My theory is, someone sneaked up on the victim when he was standing in the trees. On Saturday morning you could see where heels had been pulled across the lawn. The marks are gone now.” He smiled fleetingly at Gran Gwen. “Thanks to the diligence of the Bonheur gardeners.”
“Oh, I am sorry, Will,” Gwen said. “I didn’t think to tell them not to work.”
“Not at all. We had finished up there.”
“But did you find a murder weapon?” Deanna asked.
Will shook his head. “I shouldn’t be discussing this, but they have a suspect in custody, and they’re ready to write off Amabelle Deeks as missing or dead.”
“Why? Just because—” Deanna bit off the next words.
“Just because what?”
“Just because she isn’t here to defend herself.”
“She really needs to do that. Because if she is alive and she’s deliberately hiding out, she’ll be in big trouble. Might even go to prison.”
“Stop it,” Noreen snapped.
Deanna held her breath. Don’t tell. Don’t tell.
“Those third-degree tactics don’t become you, sergeant.”
Will threw up his hands, stood up, and walked halfway across the room. “If you think this is the third degree, you’re mightily mistaken. And I’m only trying to help your friend. Pretty soon it’s going to be out of my hands. And the powers that be will railroad your friend Rollie right to prison. And they will make certain that a few choice inmates know exactly what he is.”
Deanna stopped breathing halfway through his tirade. She’d never, ever, seen Will lose his temper like this before.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Noreen. “And you’re just like the rest, picking out the weakest in the herd and bullying them until they agree to anything you say. All this talk about wanting to help—ha! You just want to save your own—” She clamped a hand over her mouth. Turned to Gran Gwen. “I beg your pardon. I forget myself. Thank you for your hospitality, but I really must end the evening now.”
She stood, bowed slightly toward Gwen, and walked toward the archway.
Joe had risen automatically.
Will clapped his hands. Once. Making both Gwen and Deanna jump. Twice. Three times. Slowly. methodically. Each sound echoing to silence. “Very dramatic.”
Noreen had reached the archway; she turned around. “You disgust me!”
Deanna blinked, looked at Will. He looked stunned.
“She’s leaving,” Joe said.
“Well, see to it that Carlisle has the carriage brought round,” Gwen said.
Joe hesitated. Looked at Will, then followed Noreen out.
“I’d better . . .” Deanna hurried after him. She was barely aware of Will beginning to apologize to Gran Gwen.
Noreen was standing in the drive, Joe at her side, both mute.
He gave Deanna an anguished look. “The carriage is coming round from the stable.”
Deanna nodded. “We’ll be fine.”
Joe practically fled back inside.
Deanna didn’t know quite what to do. She’d been taught never to show excess emotions, to always be in control, to look the other way when necessary. But this—her heart was pounding, just like she’d actually felt Noreen’s anger herself. And her hurt.
Deanna came to stand beside her. “Are you all right?”
Noreen wiped beneath her eyes, neatly using two fingers, and Deanna thought it must be a technique for not messing up stage makeup.
“Noreen?”
Noreen cut her a sideways glance. Took a deep breath. “I got a little carried away. Sometimes that happens, something hits a little place inside that you’ve neatly hidden away. It makes for good theater but, whew! I’ll have to apologize to your sergeant, but not tonight.
“Though I must say, I didn’t expect that attitude from him for some reason. And it gave me a perfect excuse to take over the scene.” She turned to Deanna and smiled. “I think you should just go upstairs and not talk to them tonight. It will give me time to see if I can find out anything more from the others. Then you can either warn Belle or turn her in.”
“And you?”
“If they drag me screaming from my bed tonight . . .” She smiled, but wanly. “I’ll expect you to come pay my bail.”
“I will, but I’m going to tell Belle that she has to turn herself in or I will.”
The carriage came through the gates and stopped at the entrance.
Noreen climbed in. “Do what you must, and thank Gwendolyn for the lovely dinner. Please tell her I’m very sorry for my bad manners.”
“Don’t worry, when Joe and I fight, she always says she enjoys a good squabble.”
Noreen chuckled, and the carriage drove away.
Deanna turned back to the house. She was confused about what she should do. Was she shielding a murderer? But hadn’t they already decided that the killer must have dragged Charlie’s body across the lawn to the house? Belle couldn’t have done that.
She didn’t know how she was to get upstairs without being called out. Joe was probably standing just inside the door, she thought, but he wasn’t, and she climbed the stairs without interruption.
As soon as she was in her room, she called for Elspeth.
She was breathing hard when she came into Deanna’s room. “I was in the kitchen. What’s the matter? Are you ill?”
Deanna shook her head. “There was such a scene.”
“Oh, miss. Have you and Mr. Joseph been going tooth and nail again?”
“No. Noreen and Will.”
Elspeth’s mouth dropped open. “In front of everybody?”
“In the parlor after dinner. She went from charming to outraged in the blink of an eye. She stood there, framed in the archway like a painting, mesmerizing us all . . . The Wrath of the Valkyrie Queen.”
“Huh?”
“Then she stormed out and Joe ran after her to call for the carriage. Will just stood there.”
“What was she so upset by?”
“I’m not sure. Will kind of threatened her. I’ve never seen that side of him before.”
“Probably because you’ve never seen him putting the kibosh on anybody.”
Deanna shrugged. “I think it really upset her, but by the time I went out to see about her, she’d mostly recovered and acted like it was all an act to disrupt the questioning. She told me to come upstairs instead of going back into the parlor.”
“She was working them.”
“Yes, but I think part of
it was real. Like she . . . I don’t know. Like she started out acting and it turned into something else.”
“Huh.”
Deanna sank into the slipper chair by the window. “I don’t know what to do. Noreen said to wait and she’d try to learn more from the others, but I don’t know. I’m withholding evidence.”
“Well, we don’t exactly know that Belle is evidence. You said that she didn’t even know poor Charlie was dead.”
“So she said.”
“She also said she would be okay. Soon. It was like she knew she could get help.”
“I hope she wasn’t counting on that Rollie fella. She’ll have a long wait if she was.”
“If she was, what was she doing at the docks? Timothy said he saw her at the docks. He meant the wharf. Where the ferry comes in. Passengers were disembarking. What else is down there?”
“There are some establishments. Maybe she was scrounging for food.”
“In the daylight, when hundreds of people are just arriving in town?”
Deanna nibbled on her thumbnail.
“Stop that.”
Deanna put her hand down. “Why do you go to the ferry just when it arrives?”
“Maybe she was going to stow away?”
“I think she was meeting someone.”
“Well, she didn’t meet anybody, ’cause that actor Timothy said she ran when she saw him. Well, he said he thought he saw her. And you can’t trust what any man who’s been out carousing all night sees or says.”
“Really,” Deanna said. “It seems to me that a lot of men seem to go out carousing more than they stay home.”
“I expect not like that Timothy goes out. Maybe Noreen will be able to get more out of him when he doesn’t have an audience.”
“Because he didn’t trust us,” Deanna said.
“That, and because I also suspect that he ain’t saying anything to anybody about where he was. Not if he doesn’t want to end up in the cell next to Rollie.”
“Him, too?”
“I don’t know. I just know it goes on.”
“Here in Newport?”
“In Newport, too.”
A Golden Cage Page 24