A Golden Cage

by Shelley Freydont

  She motioned Elspeth to go out, then turned to hastily retie the tent.

  Then she heard a familiar woman’s voice.

  It was coming from the other side of the theater.

  “Stop. Don’t come any closer.”

  Deanna and Elspeth exchanged looks.

  They’d found Amabelle Deeks.

  Chapter

  22

  Deanna grabbed Elspeth’s arm and they both stood still, trying to hear. But all was silent. Deanna could see light coming from the stage between the chinks in the wooden walls. They must be on the stage. She motioned for Elspeth to follow her. They passed the wheel and tiptoed across the wooden walkway to the entrance to backstage and peeked in.

  Crates were stacked everywhere, some only half-filled. Pieces of scenery were lined up like soldiers. The whole space was a warren of boxes, crates, and stage pieces. It stood to reason that everything would be stored back here; it was the only space that had a wooden roof.

  Deanna could hear Belle talking, but she couldn’t see who the other person was. She needed to get closer. Carefully she stretched out her hand and touched the splintered rattan of a large basket. Using it to guide herself, she crept forward, Elspeth clasping her sleeve and staying close. Her foot hit something metal, one of the rings that Deanna thought must be part of the fireworks display that had blazed across the lawn. She barely caught it before it fell and took the others with it.

  She could see a light ahead. Someone must have lit a lantern.

  “Did you bring them?”

  “Yes, yes.” A man’s voice.

  A shadow moved across the floor. Deanna dove behind a crate marked FIREWORKS, dragging Elspeth with her. When she looked out, the shadow had moved on.

  “Why, Belle? Why are you doing this?”

  Deanna and Elspeth exchanged looks. What was Belle doing? They had to find a way to see. And hope Joe and Will would get here before Belle got away.

  “Protecting myself like you said I should.”

  A sound like an animal cry. It gave Deanna the shivers, and it didn’t come from Belle.

  Deanna moved slowly along the crates until she found an opening just large enough to see through if she climbed onto one of the smaller boxes. But as she reached for something to hold on to, her elbow hit the edge of a smaller box. It had been pushed just far enough onto the crate to keep it from falling. It went sliding over the edge.

  Right into Elspeth’s arms. Elspeth’s cheeks puffed out as she breathed out. She put the box on the floor, then she looked into it. Shook her head and climbed up behind Deanna.

  “Did you hear that?” asked the man.

  “No. What? Don’t try to distract me. Put the clothes and the money in that valise.”

  “Belle, why are you doing this? Charlie and I were always good to you. Why did you have to kill him? Why? I don’t understand.”

  “Me? Liar. I didn’t kill him, you did. I know you did. And you said you loved him.” Belle finished with a drawn-out keen that finally fell to silence.

  Deanna couldn’t see what was happening. She hiked up her skirts and shimmied out to where she could lie across the top of the crates and look down on the scene. Elspeth wedged herself in next to Deanna, and the two of them lay side by side looking out of the narrow opening.

  Two people were lit against a black curtain; one of them, a plump pretty actress, held a tiny pistol, a derringer, in her hand. She was pointing it at a large barrel-chested man with wisps of white hair that crisscrossed his pink scalp.

  Just like characters in a melodrama. A modern melodrama, Deanna thought, where the damsel overpowers the villain with her pistol.

  “Me?” The man turned slightly and she recognized him.

  Judge Grantham.

  “I didn’t kill Charlie,” he said. “Oh, that I had never met you. What is this trick, Belle? Do you think you can blackmail me? Is that it? Don’t I always give you what you want? Why would I ever kill either of you?”

  “Because we were going to leave you.”

  “Leave? No, you weren’t. Charlie never would have left. He enjoyed the rich life. He loved me.”

  “We were, and you found out and killed him.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Belle. I was at home with my family after my birthday fete. You’re being hysterical.”

  The gun bobbled in Belle’s hand, which was shaking badly.

  The Judge stepped toward her.

  “Don’t. Don’t come any closer,” Belle cried.

  “Is this an act, Belle? Are you trying to cast aspersions on me, to protect yourself? Because let me tell you, my girl. I’ll see you hanged.”

  “I didn’t kill him. Don’t threaten me.” Belle was indeed becoming more and more hysterical.

  “Then who did?” the Judge asked in a voice quickly losing its control.

  Where were Joe and Will? If they were off wining and dining, she would never forgive them.

  “I’m afraid I did.”

  Deanna’s head swiveled toward the new voice. He was standing in the shadows so she couldn’t see his face, but she recognized his voice. The same bitter edge as when he’d threated her at the Chepstow soiree. Walter Edgerton.

  Elspeth frowned at Deanna, and Deanna realized Elspeth had no idea who these people were. She’d just have to wait to find out. Things were moving too fast for explanations, and the slightest noise would betray their presence.

  She had a momentary idea to send Elspeth to find Joe and Will, but by the time she even found a cab, this scene would most likely be over.

  Edgerton finally stepped into the light and Belle turned her pistol on him.

  He was holding a larger one.

  “You killed Charlie?” Belle asked, her voice shaky. “Why?”

  “To stop you both from destroying a good man and me with him.”

  “That’s why he didn’t meet me? He was there, but he was already dead? Why couldn’t you just let us go?”

  The Judge swayed. “Walter? Walter, tell me this isn’t true. Murder? Was that necessary?”

  “Unfortunately, Sam, yes. Your conduct made it necessary. But it didn’t work out quite how I planned. I had to drag the little pervert’s body inside, thinking that this piece would surely be blamed.”

  Belle sobbed. “You’re despicable.”

  “I do what is necessary to protect the Judge’s good name and rid the country of prostitutes and perverts.”

  “I’m not a prostitute and Charlie wasn’t a pervert; you’re the sick, twisted one.”

  Edgerton turned on the Judge. “No, he is.” His anger and swagger seemed to die in the same instant. “Why did you do it? I looked up to you. Modeled my life after yours. You were my mentor and patron. How could you sell me out like this? You old hypocrite.”

  The Judge hung his head, the energy drained from him, and Deanna was afraid he might faint dead away.

  “You leave him alone,” Belle cried. “You’re an evil, vicious man. Not even a man. An animal.”

  “Shut up.”

  The Judge ran a hand over his face. “You didn’t have to kill the boy.”

  “Yes, I did. You left me no choice. You were going to ruin everything.”

  “I’ll send you to prison.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” Edgerton laughed shrilly, and Deanna was afraid a bit hysterically. “And risk me telling all about you and your filthy libertine ways.”

  “I’ll call the police myself. I don’t care what happens to me.”

  “You’ll keep your head. Parkhurst and your friends at the Society for the Prevention of Crime would love that. Their champion tried in the courts as a pervert himself. You’ll be ruined and the whole family with you. They’ll never be able to hold their heads up in public, their peers and friends will despise them.”

 
“I don’t care!” With a howl, the Judge lunged at the younger man. The revolver went off with an earsplitting explosion.

  The Judge staggered, stood long enough to look Edgerton in the eye, then, grabbing his stomach, he toppled forward.

  Belle screamed.

  Deanna’s ears were echoing, but she was paralyzed in place.

  Belle dropped to her knees beside the older man and turned him over.

  “Oh, Judge. I’ll call for a doctor.”

  He shook his head slightly. “No use in that.”

  She took his hand. “You were good to me. I know that.”

  Deanna had to pull herself forward to see his face.

  “I did love you, my dear. In my own way.”

  “I know. Just not in the way you loved Charlie.”

  The Judge’s eyes closed.

  Edgerton moved forward, his face a mask of shock. “Why did you do that, you stupid old man? Now what am I supposed to do?”

  He turned on Belle so fast that Deanna had to scramble back not to be seen.

  “Who’s up there?” Edgerton demanded.

  Deanna and Elspeth froze, so close that their noses almost touched.

  Slowly, they crawled back down the crates.

  “Come out now or she dies.”

  Deanna grabbed Elspeth. “Go for help,” she whispered.

  “Come out or I’ll shoot her. I have nothing to lose.”

  “Go get help,” Deanna whispered.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  “Go, that’s an order.”

  Elspeth shook her head.

  “Now!” Edgerton’s voice had reached a voluble panic.

  Elspeth stepped down. Came back holding a handful of Roman candles from the box they’d knocked over.

  “We don’t have matches.”

  “Yeah, we do.” Elspeth smiled, though it was more like a grimace, and patted her skirt pocket. “Cad Metti,” she whispered, citing her favorite sleuth. “A good detective always comes prepared.”

  She disappeared into the shadows.

  Deanna stepped away from the boxes to give Elspeth time to escape.

  Edgerton whirled around. Stopped dead, his revolver pointing somewhere off to the side. He wasn’t very good at this holdup business. Of course he didn’t have to be that good. It was the gun and the bullet that did all the work.

  He shot his free hand through his pomaded hair.

  “Come out here.” He began to back up as Deanna moved forward. Aiming the gun first at Belle then Deanna, back and forth, back and forth. It was hypnotizing.

  “What the hell am I supposed to do?” he whined. “This is the damn Judge’s fault. Now I’ll have to kill both of you, it just isn’t fair.”

  A loud whistle, then a resounding boom exploded from outside.

  “What the—what was that?”

  Another of the same.

  Holding the revolver aimed between the two women, he backed up and peered out the curtain. Deanna could see only smoke, but she hoped like crazy that the sky was lit up and somebody would be coming to see what was going on.

  * * *

  Joe had just stepped out of the carriage at the door of the Grantham cottage when the sky lit up with fireworks. “What the hell?”

  “Looks like someone is celebrating,” Will said.

  “I hardly see what the Granthams have to celebrate.” Joe turned back to the door. And knocked.

  The butler, white faced and grim, opened the door almost immediately. He saw Will behind Joe, and his face drained even whiter.

  “Is Judge Grantham at home?” Joe asked when it became clear he had no intention of letting them in the house.

  Maude Grantham came running out of the parlor. “Samuel, what on earth is going on?”

  She checked when she saw Joe and Will. “Where is the Judge? What is he doing?”

  “We came to see him, ma’am,” Joe said. “Is he not here?”

  Maude looked around. “He was here but he had to go out.”

  “Oh, do you know where he went?”

  She shook her head in jagged little jerks.

  “The reading room, perhaps?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Another blast went off.

  “Can someone please stop that noise? My nerves. My head. Who is doing that?” She saw Will. “Would you please do your job and get rid of whoever is making that racket?”

  She put her hand to her temple and tottered back into the parlor.

  Joe turned to the butler. “Miss Randolph isn’t visiting here, is she?”

  “No, sir, no one has visited since this morning.”

  “Thank you.”

  He and Will walked back outside. “I’m getting a bad feeling about this,” he said.

  “So am I. Let’s check it out.” Will started off toward the theater at a jog.

  They were two-thirds of the way there when Joe saw who was causing the cacophony.

  “That’s Elspeth,” he said, and ran to meet her.

  She ran toward them. “He’s got them, Miss Deanna and Belle. Behind that curtain. He has a gun. Help her, sir.”

  Joe and Will began to run, Will only trailing slightly behind as he reached inside his jacket for his revolver.

  At the curtain, they stopped; sidled along until they got to the proscenium. Then Joe pulled it back slightly and looked inside. Walter Edgerton’s back was to him, facing Deanna and Amabelle Deeks, who stood just in front of the Ferris wheel as if they were ready to hand over their tickets.

  Bad analogy, Joe.

  Edgerton must have a gun aimed at them, because they both were holding very still.

  Dee’s eyes widened slightly as she saw him, but that was the only reaction she had.

  Joe felt Will move in beside him, his revolver trained on Edgerton.

  “Edgerton!” Will called.

  Edgerton turned. At the same time Dee stepped back into darkness and vanished from the stage.

  “Hold it right there,” Will called.

  Instead, Edgerton whirled around and with a giant leap, grabbed Belle, locking an arm around her and holding her as a shield.

  “Back off and I won’t hurt her.” Edgerton stepped back, dragging Belle with him.

  “If he makes a break for it, I’ll shoot if I can get a clean target,” Will said.

  There was a pop and the sounds of gears interlocking.

  Edgerton looked around, clearly panicking. As he dragged Belle back, Belle suddenly went limp. Edgerton staggered under her dead weight. And Joe smiled in spite of his racing adrenaline. She hadn’t fainted, she was making it impossible for him to escape. He couldn’t drag her dead weight fast enough to get away. He would have to let her go and then Will would shoot.

  Joe heard a creak and saw the wheel jerk slightly.

  Edgerton continued to back away, bringing him closer to the wheel. One final step back and the wheel came to life. Belle threw herself against him. His grip loosened ever so slightly, but she took the opportunity to jab him in the ribs and stomp on his foot. He howled, staggered, and fell backward on his butt. His arms splayed outward; his hand hit the edge of the apparatus, and the gun flew from his hand.

  Belle ran toward Will. And Walter Edgerton was miraculously lifted above the ground by the giant Ferris wheel. But unlike the pairs of lovers from the play, Edgerton would not be going to marital bliss—he’d be going to jail.

  Will ran forward and pulled Belle to safety. Then Joe led them around to the back walk to pick up Edgerton when he came down to earth.

  And he found what he knew he would find: Dee pedaling as fast as she could. She and Belle had somehow colluded while being held at gunpoint.

  He let her keep at it until he saw Edgerton’s feet pull up on the platform as he lowered to the gr
ound.

  “He’s going to make a break for it,” he called to Will.

  Will merely nodded. He had it covered.

  “You can stop now, Dee!” Joe called.

  She looked up, her eyes wide, the sweat beading on her forehead. And Joe smiled. What a girl. He could kill her. But right now he was just glad to see her alive.

  Will hauled Edgerton off the wheel’s platform when it was still several feet from the ground.

  Will handcuffed him and dragged him back to the stage, where Belle stood over a recumbent figure. Joe knew it was Judge Grantham before he even saw the body.

  “He killed Charlie and he killed the Judge,” Belle cried. “And he tried to kill Dee and me, too.”

  “Ridiculous,” Edgerton said. “She killed Charlie and Judge Grantham. I was just trying to hold her for the police.”

  “This is going to be a mess,” Will said.

  Joe shrugged. “You weren’t on duty. You were merely visiting with friends and stumbled over the murder. No one can fault you for that, or blame you for overstepping into their territory.”

  Will cracked a laugh. “I pray that it will be that simple. I’m sure Mr. Edgerton here will have a whole fabricated, but plausible, explanation by the time we take him to the station.”

  He was surly and unrepentant. And he’d probably go free.

  Dee and Elspeth had come back to the stage. “Mr. Edgerton did kill Charlie. Elspeth, Belle, and I heard him confess and we all saw him shoot Judge Grantham.”

  “Lies!” Edgerton yelled from behind them. “It’s a conspiracy. You can’t believe anything this one tells you.” He lifted his chin toward Belle.

  “But we can believe everything the other two tell us,” Will said, and smiled.

  The fireworks had attracted a crowd, though not as far as Joe could tell, anyone from the house. He wondered how much they were aware of, if they would stand by their husbands for better or for worse. If it would even come to that.

  Judge Grantham had enough favors owed to escape the scandal, and Joe still wasn’t sure what exactly it was, except that it involved Charlie and Belle. But he could guess. And he also could guess that the Judge’s righteous cronies would find a way to save his reputation. They had too much to lose to let him, even in death, bring them down.