by Madison Kent
"How did you like London?"
"I found the fog beautifully enchanting. It gave you the feeling you were walking about inside the home of some great mystery. The people were different from Americans, and I enjoyed the differences in behavior."
"How did you come to be the Harrison brothers' assistant?"
"It had to do with Lady Mary, but that's a story for another day. My assistant is waving us into the elevator―they must be waiting for us."
She was taken to the third floor. Alfred continued chattering about the construction of the hotel, to which she paid little attention, for she was mesmerized by the maze he took her through. They wandered down different corridors, some areas filled with staff talking and moving about and others eerily quiet. There seemed to be an inordinate amount of doors along the way and almost every door was ornate in some way. Some were elaborately carved, still others had gold and silver adorned handles. Many of the door knockers were shaped in jungle creatures such as the lion and jaguar.
She remarked on this to Alfred to which he replied, "It's is quite like any other hotel, just more elaborate."
It seemed almost everything she said to him he replied with some defensive remark, even such an innocuous comment about the unusual doors.
She believed she would never find her way back to the offices if she had to do it on her own. She thought it might have been planned to be deliberately confusing, and designed to make it difficult to find the Harrison brothers' offices.
Once inside, she saw they had their own private elevator, and this explained how they avoided the complicated path.
The Harrison men were all similarly dressed, with only variances of their garments, all in the color gray. They all wore spectacles, but in this they were different. Patrick wore a monocle, Christopher had gold, circular frames, and Joseph wore silver frames. But although they were all similar in attire, their individual looks and even the way they carried themselves varied greatly.
On just casual observance, it was obvious to Madeline that Christopher was the head man. He stood with authority, rigid and without even a glimmer of a smile. Patrick, the stocky one, bumbled about, straightening his coat, and squinting every few minutes. Joseph was the most relaxed but still fidgeted with his glasses, taking them on and off, wiping them and putting them back on. He was the only one who looked her squarely in the eye and spoke first, "Mrs. Donovan, as you know, we are busy men, but we have taken the steps to allow this interview. We have heard little of these missing women, but we will try to answer your questions."
"There are as many as six missing women reported in the newspaper, all of whom were seen at your hotel. It's a possibility that a guest who resides here, or even a staff member may be involved in some way.
" So I would like to see your registration book to see if any of the girls may have stayed here or participated in the events that you showcase, such as the recent fashion event. I would also like your permission to question the business owners."
"It does not seem an unreasonable request. If you do it discreetly, I do not see the problem with it, " said Patrick.
"There is a question of the privacy of our guests. I don't want any of them bothered by you and no one who is within the lobby will be assaulted with your questions," said Joseph.
"I will be discreet. You have my word on that, and I agree that I will not question your guests," said Madeline.
Joseph stood and walked in front of her. "If Alfred is available, I would like him to accompany you whenever you are here. Then we will have an assurance of your conduct. You understand we are doing you this favor out of deference to your desire to help these girls somehow. We, however, think it is mere coincidence that they may have come into our facility. Since we have opened our doors, the people of this city have come through just to see the place. If they were among those, it would not be surprising," said Joseph, with a mixture of curtness and kindness that made her unable to discern his true nature. Still, the brother Christopher did not speak her name or even offer a greeting. He looked sternly out the window and barely moved, standing stoically during the entire time she was there.
She was about to leave when she heard what sounded like a muffled scream.
"That was a woman screaming, did you hear it?" she asked.
Patrick walked out of the room ahead of her and said, "There is nothing now. It may have been one of the staff acting out."
Then again, she heard someone cry out. Alfred ran out of the room and continued down the corridor until he came to a bamboo door and pushed his way inside.
Patrick and Joseph followed him while she stood there under the watchful gaze of Christopher. She couldn't leave even if she wanted to for she would not know the way back to the elevator.
A few minutes later, Alfred returned and said, "It's all right―it's Lady Mary. She had fallen, and it appears she has sprained her ankle. She was afraid no one would hear her and was more vocal than necessary. She knows I always check on her. She sometimes comes up here to sit and read. It is the library room."
She saw Lady Mary peek out from the door, and knew Alfred must be telling the truth, but she was mystified by what had just happened.
Alfred returned her to the lobby with a smile saying, "It is a large hotel, with a hundred stories going on at any given time. She is eccentric and sometimes can panic. That is why, of course, she has acted the way she did with you."
"I see," was all she replied.
"Are you happy with the outcome of your meeting?"
"Yes, I am. Apparently, you will be my guide. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all. We have nothing to hide. I'm sure you will find it a fruitless outcome. This is a grand place and only the best of people do business here."
"I hope you are right."
"Please notify me through the concierge whenever you are in the hotel next and wish to speak to the business owners."
She bid Alfred good-bye and began to exit when she saw Joanie Sobon setting up her painting easel.
"Miss Sobon, do you have a minute?"
"I am quite busy, mon ami. I must get ready, or I will not make any money today."
"I won't take up but just a minute of your time. I am searching for information regarding some missing girls; perhaps you have read about them in the newspapers."
"Oh...but no, Vincenzo and I, all we do is paint and make beautiful love," she said laughing. "We do not look for trouble or seek it out. That is for the Americans."
Madeline tried to ask the artist about the girls again and to show her the pictures, but all she did was wave her off and continued to repeat that she had seen no one. She imagined it might be the truth, if Joanie and Vincenzo were so engrossed in their painting that they probably did not pay much attention to their surroundings. She departed the hotel and left for home.
She had taken a carriage to the short distance to the hotel, as she did not wish her clothing or boots covered in dust, but now she decided to walk home, thinking of all that had just happened.
She hoped Hugh had returned so that she could speak with him about the brothers.
When she entered the house, Mrs. O'Malley called out, "Your gentleman came around, and there is a post for you."
She walked over to the table Mrs. O'Malley always laid their correspondence on. The cook had put her letter on top, and when she saw the postmark from New York, she clutched it to her and went to her room to read it. It was from Jonathan Franks.
July 25, 1889
Madeline,
Everyone in New York in the news business has been talking about some of the special interest stories happening in your backyard. The Auditorium Building sounds as if it will be one of the sights to see when traveling to Chicago. We have all heard of Hull House, as well as other businesses that have found a home there.
As it turns out, our editor wanted to send someone to do a month-long feature about these stories to send it to our readers in New York. New Yorker's always feel in competition with Chicago and
have a keen interest in trying to do better. No one, in particular, wanted to go―if it isn't murder, it doesn't pique their interest. But as you can guess by now, I volunteered straight away, (I think that expression stayed with me after London), and I will be coming by train, arriving in Chicago this Friday.
I hope to find that Hugh has arrived from London. I have your address, and as soon as I secure a place to stay, I will come to see you.
Your friend,
Jonathan Franks
She could not wait to tell father and Hugh the good news. Besides Hugh, Jonathan was the only other man she became close to since the death of her husband, Russell. He had gained her trust and respect after meeting him aboard the SS City of New York on her way to London. They began their friendship reading Arthur Conan Doyle's first novel, A Study in Scarlet. He had been sent by the Times to report on the Ripper crimes in Whitechapel. They both had interacted on the case, at times with Hugh by their side. The three had formed a strong bond together.
She came out to the porch to soak in the afternoon sun, the letter still in her hand, when she saw Hugh coming down the interior staircase that led to his and Phillip's upstairs flat.
"Madeline, I was looking for your carriage through the upstairs window, but did not see you arrive and had just now come down to ask Mrs. O'Malley your expected time of arrival."
"I had quite an unusual afternoon, and this...this is a most welcome letter from our friend, Jonathan. The Times is sending him here to do a series of articles about some of the new businesses that have come to Chicago. He will be here on Friday."
"How wonderful, our trio will be back in full form. We shall have a proper celebration. I will take us all to a fine restaurant in celebration of our being reunited."
"That would be lovely. The evening is almost upon us, the breeze rushing in through the trees, and I have sat on this porch many nights imagining you both here with me. Now it will come to be. I am thoroughly delighted."
"I am anxious to learn of your adventure this afternoon, and I shall tell you what I have been about."
"Shall we plan our conversation for after dinner in our usual spot with our bottle of wine?"
She nodded and said, "It is pleasant and calming to sit there with you, an intimate setting that I have have come to look forward to."
At dinner, Phillip spoke with gaiety about his journey through the city. Mrs. O'Malley reminded them of her luncheon with Lady Mary the next day which she was looking forward to. It was, once again, a pleasant gathering of friends and family. Madeline did not speak about her meeting with the Harrisons, preferring to talk with Hugh about it later in the evening.
She had brought candles into the room, as there was no moon that night. They spoke by the flickering light, enjoying the warmth of the wine and the company.
"I have been to Beverly to see some of the homes designed by Mr. Wright. They are amazing. Although the prairie-style home is interesting, I prefer the Victorian, probably because of my upbringing. I have secured an interview with him through his business associates. If the price is within my means, I hope to employ him to design my home in Oak Park."
"That is a lofty goal indeed. To have such riches must give you a feeling of power that you can choose your path on your own terms."
"And perhaps one day begin a family."
His comment and the way he was looking at her as he said it somehow made her feel uncomfortable. Was it possible that he had feelings for her of another kind than just friendship? She hoped not. She admired him, and he was in her heart, but still only as a friend.
"Would you want to live in America when all your family is in England?"
"I suppose I would like to split my time between both places. Many people do such things all the time and have successful lives."
"It makes me happy to think that I will have the pleasure of your company whenever you are in America. I'm sure Father will also feel the same way."
"You will come with me to Oak Park sometime to see the homes Mr. Wright has designed?"
"Yes. Oak Park is a grand neighborhood, and I have only seen pictures of Mr. Wright's homes in the news and not ventured to the actual houses. It will be a fine way to spend a day. Perhaps in the near future, but for now, I feel I must put my time into this case."
"Yes, yes...tell me what happened today. I thought about you all day, wondering how you got through it."
"Alfred was exceptionally kind―almost too kind―but I will try to remain neutral where he is concerned. The office they took me to on the third floor was designed, it seemed to me, to elude whoever might be trying to find their way about. There were many short hallways and detours that he led me through. There were so many doors; it didn't seem possible that there could be something behind each one of them―the rooms would have to be as tiny as a closet. And the doors, I have never seen anything like it. Each one was carved or decorated elaborately, almost something you would see in a child's playhouse. It was fascinating. Alfred stated that the Harrison's were just unconventional and designed it to fit their surreal imagination.
As expected, Christopher again did not speak to me, observing the room from the farthest point, smoking a cigar and barely exhibiting an expression of any kind. Patrick was again nervous. Joseph was the most amiable of the three. Although even he displayed a curtness in his actions towards me."
"Everything you told me so far holds with our impression about the brothers, but the doors and the intricate winding of the corridors, that is interesting. I would like to see it sometime. Did you get their permission to inquire about the missing girls?"
"Surprisingly, they did allow me, but with the stipulation that I must be accompanied by Alfred. But beyond the unusual myriad of doors, something else proved even more perplexing. Right before I was about to leave, a lady screamed. I looked at the brothers immediately for a reaction. I was wondering whether they were going to deny that they even heard it, but they, like me, seemed genuinely startled to hear it. In the next moment, we heard more of a moan. Alfred jumped up and disappeared while we all sat there saying nothing. He returned a few minutes later, saying it was Lady Mary, and she was in the library room. She had gone up the library ladder and when coming down, faltered and twisted her ankle. I thought it a preposterous lie and had visions of some girl being trapped in another room. However, as I was leaving, she peered out through the door of the library."
"It sounds like a work of fiction. It is a strangely beautiful place, this Harrison. It looks as beautiful and inviting as a cathedral, but inside holds elusive secrets."
"The Harrisons and their hotel, whether intentional or not, have created with their eccentricities a place of mystery, and maybe more than that―murder."
She finally said it aloud, what she had been thinking these last few days.
Hugh stopped and looked at her, this time with a serious face, the kind she had witnessed in London after one of the Ripper victims was found.
"Madeline, do you truly believe it may come to that―murder?"
"I feel foolish saying it aloud, but it has been in my thoughts. I'm afraid everyone but you may think I have lost my mind. That I am trying to create something that isn't there because of what happened in London."
"No, I can feel it too. Something is going on in that hotel, it may not be murder, but something."
"I saw Nancy and gave her the candy, so soon we will hear about that matter. I do believe that we will have a busy few weeks coming up."
When they stood to say good-night, he reached over, took both her hands in his and said, "You are the right person for this, your empathy and compassion for people is a wonderful thing. With the gift of life, comes the burdens of life. You have known more than most and somehow I think you will get to the bottom of this."
She blushed―it would have been impossible not to―for instead of pulling away quickly as she normally would have, she let him hold her hands and felt renewed by his touch.
"Thank you. Until tomorrow then..."
It's Murder
In the morning, Hugh and Phillip once again left early to go on their journey to see something of her Chicago. She mused that they probably would see things she had not seen herself, or had not seen for a while, such is the benefit of being a tourist. Her agenda included returning Maria's dress to the Falco's, and updating them with what she had discovered, such as the chocolates in the dress. She knew if she were right, and they contained drugs of some sort, she then would be obligated to take the information to the police. She wanted to speak to them about that also.
But before she left, she wanted to ask a favor of Mrs. O'Malley.
"Mrs. O'Malley, are you still meeting with Lady Mary today for luncheon?"
"I am looking forward to it. She's a wonder, that one...not the sort of person I get to meet. It will be something to talk about in the market afterward."
"I did not mention this at dinner, but something odd happened yesterday while I was meeting with the Harrisons. As I was about to make my departure, a lady screamed and then shortly thereafter, I heard moaning. I was quite unnerved by this and believed perhaps a crime was being committed, but it turned out to be Lady Mary who had screamed. She was in the library down the hall. Supposedly she had fallen and hurt her ankle. Could you possibly discover if any of this story is true? I mean, I saw her in the doorway of a room. I don't know if it was a library, or if it was she who actually did the screaming."
"I can see life will be much more interesting now that you have become a detective, Miss. I don't suppose it will be that difficult to find that out. I hope to gain her trust, and find out all I can, but I think we cannot underestimate her. I don't know how much of it is just play acting. We'll see."
"I am sure either way it will be an entertaining lunch. Have a wonderful time. I will see you this evening," said Madeline as she left the home.