by Madison Kent
“Madeline,” Father said, “we will be dining a little earlier, at six. I am pleased you are ready as I would like to speak to you in my study.”
The study was a third bedroom her father had converted into a quaint little room with hard-covered books on the shelves against the wall, two leather sitting chairs, a few miscellaneous writing instruments, and a pile of paperwork.
“A patient of mine, Mrs. Rosa Silvestri, came to my office this very day in hysterics, requesting medicine to calm her. Her sister arrived from New York a few weeks ago, for an extended visit, and she is now missing. The police have done nothing about it, as she is of age, I believe—twenty-five. They think she just decided to leave of her own free will and explore the city. But Mrs. Silvestri says that would be impossible, that her sister would never leave in such a manner, that their relationship is close, with no problems. She also said her sister was on the adventurous side, but it wouldn’t be like her to have just departed on her own, besides, all of her belongings remain at their home.”
“Father, what a remarkable story. But what is the reason she is coming here?”
“I invited her because of you, Madeline. This is your chance to get started. You may not yet have a storefront, but you now have a customer.”
“You are wonderful. I thought you did not approve of this endeavor. You would be the last person I would have thought would encourage me in this.”
“No one is helping her, and she needs someone she can trust, not some charlatan who will fleece her, and end up just spending his time at the local drinking establishment.”
“Do you know the sister’s name?”
“She told me, but I don’t remember it. She should be here any moment. She might bring her brother with her or her husband. I gave her pills to calm her; so hopefully, she will be able to be questioned without crying or having too much anxiety.”
Madeline was intrigued—not only had her father initiated a meeting that involved her possibly employing her sleuthing activities, but there was also this mysterious disappearance. Of course, there was always crime in any big city, and Chicago was no exception, but she had never involved herself before in this capacity.
She was busy arranging the flowered centerpiece when Rosa Silvestri and another man arrived.
“Please come in. My father has explained why you are here. I am Madeline, Madeline Donovan.”
“I am sorry if I do not behave properly. I am quite distraught over the disappearance of my sister, Maria. This is my brother, Louie Falco. I don’t mean to impose, but I don’t think I can get through this without him.”
“Of course, it is no imposition. Father had already planned for an additional guest. We will be having simple fare for dinner. I hope you do not mind.”
“I will probably eat very little, thank you just the same,” said Rosa.
Of Italian descent, Rosa was slightly shorter than her, and Madeline believed her client might be five-foot-one or so. Louie was somewhat taller, perhaps by two inches, but still shorter than most of her male acquaintances. He was, however, dauntingly handsome, with raven, curly black hair, black eyes, olive skin, and dressed fashionably in a bowler hat, dark gray dinner jacket, waistcoat and trousers, all accented with an ascot tie. Rosa was also quite becoming, with lighter, chestnut-brown hair, and wearing a royal-blue, simple day dress.
“Your father has given us the hope that you might be interested in helping us find our sister. The police have disregarded our concerns and believe she is in the city sight-seeing, or that perhaps she has found a male partner to spend her time with. This is all nonsense, of course, but they showed us their crime journal. The officer continued, saying every day the amount of real crimes that come across their desk is overwhelming and suggesting that we just wait a few more days and that we would probably hear from her by then. I can tell you I am in a state; my sister is gregarious, likes to flirt, and enjoys her freedom, but not to the extent that we would not have heard from her…impossible,” said Louie.
Rosa looked as if she were about to faint, just hearing Louie speaking about Maria.
“Rosa, may I get you a glass of wine?” asked Madeline.
“Yes, that would be very nice, thank you,” Rosa replied.
Madeline's father entered the room and took Rosa’s hands, “My dear, I hope you are feeling better. Who is this you have brought with you?”
“This is my brother, Dr. Donovan, Louie—Louie Falco.”
“How do you do, sir…welcome to my home. Please, let us go in for dinner. I believe our cook is ready to serve. We are just waiting on one of our tenants, Mr. Henry Dabrowski,” said the doctor.
Madeline thought her father was a most distinguished gentleman. His fine, grayish-white hair was as straight as a line; but was puffed up a little across his forehead. Gold framed spectacles that slid down his nose gave him the habit of constantly pushing them back up to his eyes. He stood at five-foot-ten inches, hunched somewhat from worry and older age, but carried himself to her, as if he stood ten feet tall. Always the gentleman and always living his life thinking of others, her father never acted in any way that would ever denigrate his integrity. She looked at him now, filled with pride, and felt grateful she had, at least, one surviving family member.
A knock on the door signaled that Uncle Hank had arrived. His scarecrow like demeanor made him appear even more loveable as he smiled brightly at the dinner guests.
“I’m sorry I’m a bit late, but they worked us a little longer today. Business has been good. I don’t mind though because it means a little extra money,” said Hank.
After introductions, Dr. Donovan took his place at the head of the table, with Madeline and Hank seated at his right. Rosa and Louie sat on the left side of her father. It was a breezy, mild day, and they had left the window open in the dining area, the warm wind blowing stirred the candlelight on the table to flicker. Dusk had come and gave the room a shadowy, warm feeling.
Mrs. O'Malley served a hearty chicken soup; however, except for Uncle Hank, no one ate very much. Madeline’s curiosity was getting the better of her, and all she wanted was for dinner to be over so that Rosa and Louie could tell their story.
“Rosa, do you feel you can begin to tell us a little more of what has transpired with your sister?” asked Madeline.
“I have not seen my sister for two years—she lives with my father in New York. After our mother had passed away, she stayed with my Father to help him run the family bakery. Father finally was doing well enough to allow Maria to come for an extended stay here in Chicago. She arrived several weeks ago and had been in awe of the city, spending time at McVicker’s Theater and traveling everywhere around Chicago. However, after one of her days of sightseeing, she did not return. She had previously never arrived home later than nine. I know she had made several casual acquaintances, both male and female, but nothing more than to enjoy a visit to one of the museums or to have a meal with.
Then several days ago, she left, being rather secretive and dressed in a most becoming gown, saying she was attending the theater with a group of ladies. She said she was meeting them down the street at the new Harrison Hotel. We have not heard from her since.”
“I agree with my sister, something terrible has happened to Maria, and no one in authority seems to care. They said they would send a police officer around to the hotel to ask about her, but that was about it,” said Louie.
“Do you have a photograph of her?” asked Madeline.
“Yes, we had some taken as soon as she arrived. She is a beauty; I am sure you would agree,” answered Louie.
He handed her a picture of Rosa, her husband, Louie, and Maria, taken in a studio setting. They were a handsome family, and as Louie said, Maria stood out among them. Although there was no color in the photograph—only shades of sepia—her striking features nonetheless compelled one to look at her.
“She looks like someone from the stage. Yes, she is very beautiful,” said Madeline.
“Her hair is bl
ack as midnight, and she loves to wear brightly colored hats to accent it,” said Rosa.
“She’s quite athletic, and can compete with anyone in tennis, which accounts for her shapely figure,” said Louie.
“May I see the picture?” asked Hank.
Squinting, he stared at the photo. He held it for a moment, then said, “I could be mistaken, but when I was at the drugstore from across the hotel the other day, I saw several women standing outside the hotel. I remembered them because they were finely dressed and, they stood out from everyone else. I think one of them might have been your sister.”
“Yes, I believe she liked to frequent the shops there,” said Rosa.
“So, I will start at the hotel. Do you have any names of anyone that she has met while she was here?” asked Madeline.
“No, not really—she mentioned a few people by their first names. I think I remember Felicity or Felicia and Rhonda,” said Rosa.
"I think it was Wanda," said Louie.
"Perhaps you are right," said Rosa.
“If you could go through her things and find any receipts or any mementos from places she has been, it may help. If you could bring me everything you have that may have shown where she has frequented, I will start there,” said Madeline.
“What is your fee?” asked Louie
Madeline realized she had thought of this but had never come to an answer, not knowing what her services would be worth, as she was not a tested detective.
“I will discuss that with you when you bring the items to me, but I believe that one dollar per day would be a fair price.”
“It is fair,” said Louie as he shook her hand in a contractual agreement.
Madeline exchanged pleasantries with Uncle Hank, promising to have him over for tea, and perhaps a card game later in the week.
After the guests had gone, her father sat with her at the dining table, drinking tea.
“Madeline, it is a risky business that you undertake, but you are a grown woman, and I will not interfere. Perhaps you should try to engage a male participant if you are to go through with this business.”
“Unless it was Hugh or Jonathan, I think not. That is my point, Father. Females must assert themselves into society in roles that are traditional to men. We must break ground in this, someone has to start it.”
“You will, at least, let me know your whereabouts. I know I will worry, but you must go your own way, especially now. If this somehow relieves your burden of grief, I must stand beside you.”
“I will try as much as possible to inform you of where I will be. Do not worry, Father. I am stronger than you think, and I promise you I will not take any unnecessary risks.”
He looked at her still-trembling right hand, which she called her "opium tremor". She had slid into the undesirable action of using opiates while in London, and she knew her father was worried that the stress of investigating a disappearance might bring her back to that state of mind. What he didn’t know is that it never left her. Her cravings for opium were something she dealt with on a daily basis. Father said nothing about her uncontrollable finger movements, but thankfully they did not occur with frequency.
“I will begin tomorrow with the coffee houses, drugstores, and the hotel. Sometimes the news-boys have a keen eye and remember people. It is a beginning. If their description of Maria is an accurate one, then she is most likely in danger. But we don’t know if she might be more adventurous and did perhaps go away intentionally. However unlikely, it must be considered.
"The autumn days still have long light, and I will be able to be out in the safety of daylight until late.”
“Perhaps if either Uncle Hank or I am available, we can escort you.”
“Thank you, Father, we’ll see. If I am to do this, I think I must put myself into it and not be too reliant on others. But, I will see what I will find out and decide after that.”
“All right, Madeline. Good-night.”
Chapter Three
The Harrison
It was the custom in this day and age for women to make a change of clothing up to four or five times a day, and now that Madeline was no longer wearing her black mourning dresses, she appeared better in complexion. Donning a sea-foam-green dress, and adding a darker green hat with a placement of feathers, gave her a fashionable appearance for the first time in a year.
When she reached the drugstore, located directly across from the Harrison Hotel, she made inquiries about Maria. No one was particularly interested in answering Madeline's questions; they brushed her off without her obtaining any useful information.
One of the newsboys, however, a boy she learned was called, "Little Tony", had thought he might have seen Maria.
“She’s a beauty, Miss. I noticed her right away. I think I remember her with two other ladies, but I saw her go into the hotel a few times,” said Little Tony.
“Thank you, Tony,” she said as she handed him a few pennies for his time. “If you will keep a watch out for her for me, I will buy all your papers. Her family is worried about her. If you should see her, please contact me.”
“Should I say you’re looking for her?”
“No, she wouldn’t know who I am, but please tell her that her family wishes to get in touch.”
Madeline was pleased that she had found some positive news so quickly. Perhaps that is the answer. Maybe Maria did meet some young man, and they had an impromptu rendezvous. Although, she still did not think this idea likely. If Little Tony was correct, and Maria had been to the hotel several times, maybe there was someone in her life that Rosa and Louie did not know about.
Madeline entered the Harrison Hotel and again observed its uniqueness. An array of curiosity shops, a hair salon, a barbershop, as well as other businesses were available to the public on the first floor. The area reserved for hotel guests was on the second floor, and according to the young man at the concierge desk, business offices were on the third.
Two studious young women, each wearing fashionable spectacles and beautiful dresses sat in the extended dining area of the French cafe. There were about a half-dozen tables in a cordoned-off portion in the lobby. Golden ornate chairs and tables, and simple white tablecloths, with a vase of dainty flowers in the center, were a sweet, delicate sight. The reason Madeline paid particular attention to the women was because of what they were reading; scientific journals. She had found that not many women she met held any interest in being modern or competing with men. She was now quite curious to meet them.
“Excuse me, I’m Madeline Donovan, and I’m in search of a young lady who might have frequented this café or been in this hotel. I wonder if you might take the trouble to look at a photograph of her. Her name is Maria Falco.”
“How do you do? I’m Marilyn Zajec, and this is my sister, Nancy. Of course, if we can help you we will. Please be seated.”
“If I may say so, you look like you might be twins,” said Madeline.
“Yes, not identical, but close enough as you can see,” said the flaxen-haired girl named Nancy. “We have come here often since its grand opening. Now with the all the industrial fairs that are being held nearby, there are so many visitors to our great city that it is interesting to speak with them and hear their stories. It is like taking a vacation without leaving the city; to see their different way of dressing, speaking, and thinking is an education unto itself,” said Marilyn.
“I couldn’t help but notice what you're reading. I see you have an interest in science,” she commented to Marilyn.
“Yes, my sister and I are students at Northwestern University. I am studying forensic science. It’s not something most people are familiar with, but our father was a police officer and prompted my interest in this field, even as a young girl,” said Nancy.
“Oh, it is wonderful that you have an interest in forensics! When I was recently in London, Scotland Yard had just recently begun using this science. I hope someday we may have luncheon together, and you will be so kind as to tell me all about your st
udies. I am fascinated by it, especially as I plan to pursue a career as a detective,” said Madeline.
“That is interesting that we all have passion for subjects considered to be the male domain. Mine is chemistry, and I am one of only three young women in my classes,” said Marilyn.
"That is wonderful. Your parents must be so proud of you," said Madeline.
"Our parents have passed on, but I do believe they would be. They were very supportive," said Nancy.
“Now, about this photograph of Maria—what do you think, Nancy?” asked Marilyn.
“There have been so many young women that pass through here; it is difficult to say. But now that we know you are looking for her, we will keep watch,” said Nancy.
“I will leave my name and address with you in the event that you do. I do hope we will see each other again soon. I may one day have need of your expert knowledge,” Madeline said.
“Of course, and we will meet for luncheon, as you suggested—perhaps sometime next week,” said Nancy.
“Good day, ladies, it was a pleasure to meet you,” said Madeline, as she excused herself and continued to the concierge desk.
Charles Winter, an older gentleman, perhaps in his fifties, with steel-colored hair spoke with her, “I can’t say as I recall this particular young lady, but it is strange, another young lady was here earlier looking for a friend of hers that also has gone missing. Two young women, and both seen in our hotel—it is peculiar. I will see that upper management is made known of this."
Madeline was surprised and concerned about his statement.
“You say another girl has gone missing? This neighborhood is one of the safest in Chicago, and not the news someone is likely to hear."
“She was a lovely lass, as lovely as they come. I remember the photograph they showed me and remarked on it. Perhaps these two fine ladies have met young gentlemen and are just about the city enjoying its fine attractions,” said Mr. Winter.