Mary broke down into tears and Simon felt thoroughly helpless. Thankfully, Elizabeth joined Mary on the settee and took her hand. “It does matter. More than you know.”
Mary sniffled and wiped her tears. “I still can’t leave. There’s an inquest into Victor’s…and there are funeral arrangements to be made. I…”
“Just for a few days,” Elizabeth said.
“Why would she want to hurt Victor that way? What could we possibly have done to her to make her hate us so?”
Simon leaned forward in his chair. “You didn’t do anything, Mrs. Graham. You’re not to blame in this.”
“It was as though she’d cast some sort of spell on him,” Mary said. “Did you know that he saw her several times after the séance? She claimed she could help us save Violet. I…I didn’t believe her, but Victor was convinced. He thought she was our only hope. Is she some sort of witch?”
“No,” Simon said quickly, staving off anything Elizabeth might have said to the contrary. “Not a witch. Just a very sick woman.”
“Please reconsider, Mary,” Elizabeth said. “Simon and I will take you wherever you want to go. Just for a few days.”
A knock on the door interrupted them. The Graham’s butler stepped in. “Pardon the intrusion, ma’am, but the police are here.”
“Oh, yes, please bring them in,” Mary said and then turned to Simon and Elizabeth. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t leave.”
Two blue-coated policemen stepped into the parlor. “Ma’am,” one of them said curtly before addressing Simon. “Are you Sir Simon Cross?”
Simon hesitated. “Yes.”
“You need to come with us, sir.”
“What’s going on?” Elizabeth crossed the room and tried to put herself between Simon and the officers.
“Please step aside, Miss,” one of them said.
Simon had a sinking feeling about this.
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” she demanded.
“His lordship is under arrest,” the officer said and held up a pair of heavy iron cuffs. “Now, step aside before I clamp a pair of these on you too, Miss.”
Elizabeth didn’t budge.
“It’s all right, Elizabeth,” Simon said with much more confidence than he felt. “I’m sure there’s just been some sort of misunderstanding.”
“Not unless you count murder as a misunderstanding,” the officer said as he put the cuffs on Simon’s wrists. “You, sir, are under arrest for the murder of Victor Graham.”
***
The jail cells at City Hall were probably just about as clean as the stables at City Hall. Something resembling a mattress was thrown on top of a metal platform that was suspended by heavy chains from the wall. Simon could only imagine the lice, bedbugs and God only knew what else that were living inside it. The only other decoration in his eight by eight foot cell was a bucket in the corner. The stench coming from it was overwhelming.
And yet, the worst part of it was the walls. Not because they pressed in on him, which they did, but because they were made of brick. Each one would be a potential death sentence when the earthquake came, and it was coming closer with every passing minute. He had to get out of this wretched place before then.
He reached for his watch and then remembered that it and everything else he’d had with him was locked away in that damned enormous filing cabinet across the room in the office area. If he managed to break out, he’d have to break into that. It wouldn’t be easy either. This wasn’t a typical office filing cabinet. Of course, breaking out or breaking in, neither seemed all that likely at the moment.
The bars to his cell were made of heavy iron. There was no way he could break through them. He was trapped. Good and well trapped. He slammed his hand hard against them and heard a loud rumbling snore from the cell next to his.
“Perfect.”
He heard voices in the hallway – Elizabeth and two men. She appeared in the doorway and he was struck by how badly he’d needed to see her. She hurried across the room and met him at the bars. Behind her, Max slipped a handful of bills into a policeman’s hand.
The officer looked around and said, “Five minutes.”
Max nodded, shoed the officer out and then leaned against the door jamb.
Elizabeth wrapped her hands around Simon’s. “Are you all right?”
“What’s this all about?”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew even more worried. “It seems Victor didn’t fall to his death.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He was shot.”
“That’s absurd, we told them what happened.”
Elizabeth paced around the small room. “I know. They said because the body was badly damaged it took time for them to discover the bullet wound.”
“That’s absurd.” Simon had a horrible feeling that he knew where this was headed.
“It gets better. Your gun was found on the rocks near the body.”
“Stryker.” Simon had thought he’d lost it in the tall grass, but Stryker must have taken it while they were fighting. “That’s hardly enough evidence for an arrest. How did they even know the gun’s mine?”
“You apparently ‘waved it around’ in Chinatown and made quite an impression on the locals.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“But wait, there’s more,” Elizabeth said. “Several witnesses including most of the Graham’s household staff and a few neighbors saw you arguing with Graham the night before he died. He even had to send one of his servants to get the police because you wouldn’t leave him alone.”
This was not looking good, not good at all. Simon felt those brick walls closing in just a little bit with each passing second.
“And then,” Elizabeth continued, “you followed him to Land’s End. They said I was lucky that I hadn’t been arrested as an accomplice.”
Simon’s head was spinning. “Quite a neat little web. And I seem to be stuck right in the middle of it.”
Elizabeth came to his side, reached through the bars and took his hand. “We’ll find a way out of this, out of here. It’s what we do, remember?”
Dear, wonderful Elizabeth. How he loved her. As much as he believed they could find a way to exonerate him, it wouldn’t happen fast enough. He was trussed up as neatly a Christmas goose. “I want you to promise me something.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“If you can’t secure my release by tomorrow night, I want you to leave this city.”
“No can do.”
He knew she’d balk at that, but he pressed on. “Elizabeth, I’m serious about this.”
She touched his cheek. “I know you are.”
He took her hand and held it between both of his. She needed to understand. “Listen to me. I need to know you’ll be safe. That matters more to me than anything else in this world.”
“I know.”
She was maddening. “Then you’ll go?”
“We didn’t come here together,” she said, “but we’re leaving that way. One way or the other”
“Don’t be so damned noble.”
“Said the martyr.”
She was impossible. If he had to he’d find a way to have her kidnapped and… “Harrington.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Elizabeth said. “Leave him out of this.”
“Harrington,” Simon said, “if you truly have feelings for Elizabeth—”
“Hello!” Elizabeth said. “Grown woman. Making up her own mind.”
Simon heaved a defeated sigh. “You’re impossible.” He caught Harrington’s eyes and said, “Just watch over her, would you?”
Max nodded and in that instant an understanding passed between the two men.
Elizabeth threw up her hands and shook her head. “You two make your caveman compact. That’s fine. This helpless little damsel is going to find a way to get your ass out of here. That is, if I have your permission, Sir Simon?”
Despite the situation, Simon laughed. She was so
wonderfully alive and beautiful when she was angry. “Elizabeth…”
Her pique melted away as fast as it had come and she walked over to his cell again. “I love you,” she said.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Aren’t I always?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elizabeth had promised Simon that she’d be careful. Then she’d promised Max the same when he’d brought her home. All she needed was for Gerald to come in and she’d have a trifecta. Not that it mattered what she promised them; if recklessness was what it took, she was prepared to be a raving maniac.
Simon might have to spend tonight in jail, but tomorrow, she’d find a way. The trouble was, she had no idea where to start.
Madame Petrovka had Simon tied up with a pretty ribbon. She’d obviously manufactured the witnesses from Chinatown and heaven only knew who else she had on her payroll.
No matter how many times Elizabeth went over it in her head, every path seemed blocked to her and even those that might pay off, would take too damn long. She thought about kidnapping Mary Graham, at least that might give Simon a chance. But she knew it wasn’t enough. She’d lived in California long enough to know what kind of building could survive an earthquake and City Hall wasn’t one of them. And even if she did somehow manage to break Simon out of jail, he could still die if Madame Petrovka got her hands on Mary Graham and her baby.
No matter which move she made, the other left her Simon at risk. But nothing was impossible. There had to be a way.
She paced the length of the salon and looked at the clock on the mantle—nearly midnight. She did some quick calculations. The quake struck just after 5 a.m. the day after next. That gave her twenty-nine hours, twenty-eight if they wanted a chance to get out of the city.
“Twenty-eight hours,” she said to the empty room. It could have been twice as long, three times, and she’d still be just as stuck. For the first time in a very long time, Elizabeth had no idea what to do next.
The front doorbell rang and startled her from her funk. She peeked through the bay window into the darkness to see who it was. Teddy stood on the stoop repeatedly touching a leaf from a nearby bush.
Gerald let him in and Teddy came bounding into the salon. “Hi!”
“Hi, Teddy.” She flopped down onto the sofa and stared into the fire. “What are you doing here?”
“Max told me what happened and I want to help.”
“I wish you could.”
Teddy looked around anxiously and then joined her on the sofa. He scooched closer until their legs were touching and then he leaned in and whispered, “Our secret can help.”
“What do you—”
“I can go back. I’ve never tried to change anything, but I bet I could.”
Elizabeth felt a rush of temptation that would have put Lot’s wife to shame. It could work. Just something small. They didn’t have to change anything significant, just a message from herself to herself. That would certainly put a different spin on “if I only knew then what I know now”, wouldn’t it? What harm could it do? She could save Simon. She could even save Graham. Even Captain Picard bent the Prime Directive every once in a while.
She was just about to agree to it when she looked into Teddy’s face, his completely guileless face. And she knew it was wrong. Oh, it was tempting. So damned tempting. But it was wrong, so very wrong. She knew it as surely as anything she’d ever known. She couldn’t do it.
“Thank you, Teddy. That’s sweet of you, but that’s a very, very dangerous path. I don’t think either of us is qualified to play God, do you?”
Teddy’s beard wiggled as he chewed his lip deep in thought. Finally, he shook his head. “No. But I still want to help. I’d give you the moon if I could.”
He was so dear and Elizabeth wanted help, but what could he do? There had to be something. He was a genius, after all. A crazy mad genius with scorch marks on the wall of his laboratory.
“I think there is something you can do.”
He brightened.
Elizabeth grinned back. “How would you like to blow something up?”
***
Elizabeth and Teddy strategized into the wee hours of the morning. The next morning, Max was already there when Elizabeth came downstairs.
“What’s the plan?” he said.
As much as she wanted his help, she felt a pang of guilt. He had no idea what the next 24 hours held. “It could get dangerous,” she said in epic understatement.
Max grinned. “I eat danger for breakfast.”
“I’m serious, Max.”
His smile faded and he looked, for the first time since she’d met him, like a man and not a playboy. “I know you are. I don’t claim to understand what’s going on, but I do know that this is something I’d like to see through to the end. For once,” he said self-deprecatingly. “No matter where it leads.”
She took his hand. “You’re a good friend, Max.”
He smiled again, but she saw the pain behind it. “Come on, then,” he said. “Where do we start?”
***
They went to see Simon first. He looked the way she felt.
“You don’t happen to have a toothbrush with you, by any chance?” he said. “I think they serve actual gruel here.”
“Sorry, no toothbrush, something better.”
Max was still arguing with the guard. They’d brought a parcel for Simon, but the guard wouldn’t let them pass with it.
“It’s cheese,” Max said.
The guard pointed at the package. “Open it up.”
“All right,” Max said, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Max untied the strings to the brown paper and unwrapped a block of Limburger cheese. He shoved it toward the guard who winced and covered his nose with his sleeve.
“Cover it up,” the guard said. “People actually eat that?”
“English,” Max said with a nod over his shoulder and a shake of his head.
The guard seemed to find that an adequate explanation. He nodded and held out his hand. Max greased his palm with another small bribe and the guard left them alone.
“Who says corruption’s a bad thing?” Max said.
Elizabeth took the package from him and slipped it through the bars to Simon. “This is for later. When you’re alone.”
She asked him about his guards, how many there were, when they checked the room. Anything he could tell her about their patterns, numbers and locations. They were lucky in that it appeared the police felt their City Hall jail was inescapable and didn’t guard the prisoners very carefully. And why should they? The outer walls were thick masonry with two layers of bricks.
Simon said that last night a guard had checked on him around two or three a.m., he couldn’t be sure. And then they didn’t return until after dawn, probably closer to six a.m. That was pushing it, but they could make it work. They had to.
Other than being cranky about his lack of tea, Simon appeared to be absurdly calm. But she knew him better than that and could see the worry in his eyes. She kissed him and told him not to worry. It was a stupid thing to say. How could either of them not worry? But she said it and he said it back to her and there was some strange comfort in it even if neither really believed what the other was saying.
The next stop was the Graham’s. She had to try one more time to convince Mary Graham to leave. However, when they arrived the butler told them that his mistress wasn’t at home. She’d received a telephone call early that morning and left without telling anyone where she was going.
Elizabeth could feel the ball in the pit of stomach start to spin. She knew where she’d gone, just not why, although now it hardly mattered. Madame Petrovka could have threatened her or promised her something and in Mary’s state she might have believed anything.
But maybe it wasn’t too late. She and Max hurried across town to the Haight and Madame Petrovka’s. If Elizabeth could find out what she wanted maybe she could make a deal for Mary’s life.
That is if Mary was still alive. The ball in her stomach dropped at the thought.
She and Max pounded on the front door and Mr. Stryker invited them inside as if they’d shown up for tea. But when he opened the door to the salon, he blocked Max’s path.
“You wait here,” he said. “The girl can go in.”
“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible.” Max stepped around Stryker, but the small man was fast and jabbed a crooked finger into Max’s chest. “I said, you wait.”
“It’s all right,” Elizabeth said, knowing it wasn’t.
“I’ll be right out here,” Max assured her as he shoved Stryker’s hand off his chest.
Stryker smiled that awful yellow smile of his. “Good lad.”
Elizabeth walked into the salon and the door closed behind her. Madame Petrovka reclined casually in a large chair rolling a coin in her fingers and then palming it.
“Where is she?” Elizabeth demanded.
“Please, sit down.” Madame Petrovka rolled the coin one more time and then it vanished from her hand. She waved it with a flourish. Elizabeth was not impressed.
“Where is Mary Graham?”
“She’s safe.” She must have seen the wheels in Elizabeth’s head turning, imagining the layout of the house. “Not here, of course. That would be careless. Now, please sit.”
Elizabeth sat down stiffly. She tried not to let the relief show on her face. Mary was still alive. Simon still had a chance.
“So much more civilized. When you’ve experienced what I have, you learn to appreciate the small courtesies.” Madame Petrovka poured tea as she spoke. “Tea?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Just Mary, thanks.”
Madame Petrovka ignored that remark. “I think it’s only fair since I’ve answered your question, that you should answer one of mine.”
When Madame Petrovka spoke again, all traces of her Russian accent were gone. She sounded almost like she was from the mid-west. “Why do you care? What are the Graham’s to you?”
Out of Time Series Omnibus (Out of Time: A Paranormal Romance & When the Walls Fell) Page 48