by Madison Kent
"You may say that because you have never had to beg, but look at me. I do not have your looks, nor Christopher's. I fear I will never take a wife."
Joseph patted his brother on the shoulder saying, "Brother, do not wallow in such pity, yet another unattractive feature to a woman. Be more aloof, consider the possibility of less steak and more salad to trim your look. You will be successful, I guarantee it."
They turned and proceeded back to The Harrison. Madeline had a new impression of the brothers. Perhaps Patrick was needy and a little crude, but they both had behaved like many brothers and men she had known before. Their congenial manner and their conversation pertaining to women did not seem anything short of normal.
Walking back home, she was perplexed, vowing to herself to obtain information about Christopher, the most elusive of the brothers.
She walked leisurely and was almost home when she heard a voice calling out to her, "Mrs. Donovan..."
She turned to see Joanie Sobon briskly walking towards her. "I thought it was you. I have to tell you about Vincenzo. You looked at him as if he had grown horns. No...my Vincenzo, he is the best man I have ever known. He tells me that the person who pays him the money says he must keep all a secret, or he will not be allowed to paint, and no money. Now with the money, we have many beautiful things and will return to Paris before Christmas."
"I will not mention it again, nor speak of it to anyone. It is his and your business alone. I believe too that he must be a fine young man to have a remarkable woman like you by his side."
She smiled, shook her hand and waved good-bye.
Hugh and Phillip were at her home with her father, all three sitting outside on the porch, enjoying the pleasant afternoon.
"Where is our friend, Jonathan?" asked father. "Is he still unwell?"
"He is better, but needs to write and submit his article to his paper for the afternoon deadline. He interviewed me about the disappearances. There are some people in Chicago that read the Times no doubt, but not enough to make a difference, unless a local paper picks it up. He will be here for dinner and we can discuss it further."
"I will put out to sea in two days, I hope we may see the Auditorium and perhaps venture back to the hotel. I would dearly love to see the third floor," said Phillip.
"If Jonathan is agreeable, maybe we could go back and try again tonight, but this time, bring a torch along for each of us," said Hugh.
While Phillip stayed with her father, she and Hugh took a walk through the neighborhood.
"It has been such a joy since you have come to Chicago, and now with Jonathan here, I feel a certain serenity I have not known for a long time. I will miss our Phillip, but with you building a home here, I'm sure we will see him," said Madeline.
"I meant to speak to you about that, but it has seemed inconsequential to everything else that is happening. I have decided on Oak Park, the scenic atmosphere of a grand neighborhood is quite appealing. I am hoping you will like it and spend many hours with me there."
She could feel herself blushing and for once wasn't quite sure how to respond.
"Of course...I always welcome your company," was all she said.
She felt he was about to say something further then thought better of it, and just touched her hand lightly and spoke once more about the investigation.
When Jonathan arrived later that day, father redressed his wounds before they all dined together on roast beef and creamed potatoes. Sipping wine after dinner, father said, "So you are once again off to the Harrison."
"Yes, it is at the heart of all of this. Jonathan, did you encounter Christopher?" asked Madeline.
"I did see him without his brothers. He was in the barber shop getting his shoes shined, so I ventured in for a haircut. I started talking to the barber about what a fine hotel it was, going on in a grand manner, hoping to have his ego prompt him to say he was one of the owners. He said nothing, but the barber said, "Sir, you're looking at the owner,". After that, he did converse with me, but it was only cursory and seemed to bother him to make the effort. I suppose he would be more one to watch than to engage with. He did, however, take note whenever a lovely girl walked by in his lobby, even whispering to a man who was with him, about the two blonde ladies seated at the French cafe. I bent my head over to look, and they were lovely. I think they might have been twins."
"The girls you are speaking of, I cannot imagine that it would be anyone but Marilyn and Nancy. They are the young ladies who are helping me. Marilyn is the chemist who found the drugs in the chocolate. There is something disturbing that sends a chill through me that one of the Harrisons took any interest in them. I suppose I am just foolish, still..." said Madeline.
"No, there was something peculiar in the way he looked at them. Peering at them, staring a little too long, but nothing else in his manner was odd. He behaved like many men of wealth that I come across, arrogant, aloof and feeling above the rest of us," said Jonathan.
"Do you think that I should mention it to Marilyn?" Madeline asked her collective audience.
"I wouldn't," said father, "It is what older men do, look at beautiful young girls. It may make them feel odd when they are there, and prevent them from enjoying themselves."
"I suppose. They are shy and studious, and I do not want to frighten them or make them feel uncomfortable while they are there," said Madeline.
"Then we return to the third floor, this time I want to see something of these collections," said Phillip.
Chapter Thirteen
Vincenzo's Folly
Once again, they waited until almost midnight before returning to the hotel so that there would be fewer people around to see them all together.
In Jonathan's room, they strategized on how to best achieve their goals. They decided to all go together to the stairwell, one by one leaving in intervals. Hugh insisted that he accompany Madeline this time, and she acquiesced, happy to have him with her.
The lock had not been changed, so apparently no one knew that the key had been lost. The second floor hallway where they entered the stairwell was empty, and they ascended without incident.
Somewhere on this third floor, she thought, reside the brothers. They would have to be certain they did not open a door that would enter into the rooms. They all believed that the brothers most likely would not retire without latching their doors, concluding that it was probably safe to enter the unlocked ones.
Madeline took Hugh to the room where she believed the library was, but once inside, she realized it was some type of laboratory. They spoke in whispers, "Did you see this place before?" asked Hugh.
"No, I thought this was the library. The outer door looked similar. It had an English coat of arms on it like this one does. It looks as if someone has been conducting experiments of some kind. There are notes on the table, and the faint odor of chemicals."
"I wonder which brother dabbles in this. From what we know about them, I would guess Christopher."
"There is a walking stick against the wall, but I have seen them all with such sticks."
They both walked over to it, Hugh picking it up gently to see if there were any revealing marks.
"Look, there is a splinter down the one side. Do you think it possible...?"
"That it could have been used on Jonathan? The shape of the top is a wolf's head. We must look again at Jonathan's back to see if the markings might match."
"If it is the case, and they are somehow involved, they would have the money and power to cover up their involvement. I think it would be very difficult to apprehend them."
Leaving that room, and then proceeding down another hall, they came to the library. Madeline showed Hugh the skeleton, and he motioned to her that hidden behind the last row of books was an elevator.
They tried several other doors but found the rooms to be sparsely furnished and of no particular interest.
Hugh touched her on the shoulder and pointed down the hall. Casting a shadow on the floor was the light from beneath one o
f the doors. He grabbed her hand, and they retreated to the stairwell to be sure they were not detected. As they turned the corner, they heard the door open and two males voices speaking. She and Hugh entered the first unlocked door that they came to and stood side by side without moving. When her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw many beautiful dolls, some as tall as four feet high or so and some just three or four inches in height. There was an elaborately decorated dining table with some of the dolls placed at the table settings. It would have been a little girl's dream room.
Neither of them spoke, but she was pressed against the side of him, the warmth from his body touching hers. The last time she had been so close to him was in the streets of Whitechapel, in a doorway while chasing Jack. Now again, it had the unexpected effect on her. She wished she could reach up and place her arms around him and have him hold her―maybe for a long while, and just feel his breath upon her face. She often wondered what it would be like to feel loved again, and if someday that love could be between her and Hugh.
As the two men walked past their room, she felt her hand began to tremble. Hugh placed his hand over hers, holding it firmly. She immediately calmed down and pressed her ear to the door to listen, hoping to hear something.
"He does as he pleases, no matter who it hurts. And unlike you, Joseph, Christopher always seems to point out the I am adopted and an outlier to the family fortune. I never feel like a brother when he is with me. I feel like an interloper. Why must he peer at me in such a way, as if I am an embarrassment to the family?"
"Patrick, why must you always assume things that are not true? He cares for you as I do."
"There are so many reasons for us to be cautious, now more than ever."
"You mean about the money? Nonsense. The hotel is doing fine and what is money if not used to bring us pleasure? Come, let us have a glass of cognac before retiring."
When they could no longer hear the footsteps, they reentered the hall and hurriedly returned to the stairwell. They did not speak again until they were safely back on the second floor.
"I am happy they have gone. I imagined the two of us in shackles," said Hugh.
"What a delight the Harrisons would take in making us pay for our trespassing on their property."
Jonathan and Phillip were already in the room.
"It was something to behold. I am happy I was able to see it with my own eyes," said Phillip.
"Which room did you see?" asked Hugh.
"The butterfly collection. I've never seen anything like it, even in a museum. He took great care with every detail. I also saw the three doors with nothing behind them. I took some time to see if there was a way that the mirror panel might be moved, but I did not see any. After that, I heard someone coming down the hall and decided it would be best to return," said Jonathan.
"We heard the brothers, too, and it is why we returned," said Hugh.
"I heard voices also, but they were not just male. One was female," replied Phillip.
"I wonder if it was Lady Mary," said Madeline.
"Or perhaps they have brought one of their admired ladies up to dine with them," said Jonathan. "I entered a room that looked nothing more than a closet, and then found there was an opening in the floor. When I lifted the hatch, I was amazed to find the entrance to a staircase. I thought it very odd, as there already exists the stairwell we had entered. I assume it also went down to the second floor, but I did not descend."
"Were you able to see anything else?" asked Phillip.
"I saw the room with the weaponry―a fine display of weapons as I have ever seen. They spared no expense on their collections it seems. I suppose for people with unlimited funds, it is not unusual to spend their money on any folly that suits them," replied Jonathan.
"So what is the consensus? Do any of these things mean they are potential murderers?" asked Madeline.
"Although they seem an odd sort, and obviously have means and opportunity to commit crimes, I haven't seen anything so far that would convince a jury they were guilty of anything. It would not stand up to prosecution in London," said Hugh.
"I too feel as if we have discovered all manner of strange things about them, but none points to anything of a criminal nature. What little we do know of them, it appears their business does not hold their interest, and they seek other ways to fill their time," said Madeline.
"Their third floor is as mysterious as could be found in a Sherlock Holmes mystery. What could be the purpose of all those doors, some with nothing behind them? I suppose if you are rich, and it fancies you, you just go about that business of pleasing yourself in any way, no matter how odd," said Phillip.
Madeline and Hugh went on to tell them of their narrow escape at being caught by Patrick and Joseph and of overhearing the brothers' conversation.
They said their good-byes with a promise that tomorrow would be spent on holiday visiting the Auditorium Building before Phillip had to depart.
They were all tired, and anxious to return home. Phillip had the additional task of organizing and packing his things for the return trip to London. Hugh stayed behind for a moment with her on the steps of her home.
"It is always interesting being around you, Madeline. It seems this choice of career will lend itself to some adventurous times. I am happy I was with you. I felt in some small way that perhaps I was of use to you."
The late hour and his nearness once again tempted her to lay her head upon his shoulder and whisper "I need you, stay with me", but she did not. She only said, "Thank goodness you were there. It calmed my nerves. I would not have wished to have encountered the Harrisons, alone and in the dark."
He watched her safely enter her home, and then he proceeded up the stairs to the upper flat.
She wondered if she was getting closer to finding anything of significance. She wanted to speak to Jonathan in private before their outing to the Auditorium, and thought she might see him early the next day. The night once again brought her nightmares of being chased, and then held against her will in a dirty alley. She awoke knowing she was safe, but somewhere one of the missing girls might be living what she only dreamt about.
When she arrived at the hotel in the morning, Jonathan met her downstairs so that she could gain entrance to his room. Her father had given him additional medication. He seemed much improved after taking it, behaving with even with fewer inhibitions than he normally had―and he didn't have many.
"I'm glad you've come. I wanted you to see my article and speak with you about the case. My editor wants me to continue on with the story. He said to go ahead with the other piece about the attractions, but he wants me to give this story priority. Perhaps the trip to the Auditorium can wait till another day."
"Phillip will be disappointed. Maybe he and Hugh can go, but I'd like to keep an eye on what's going on around here. I saw Lady Mary again last night after you left. She and her gentleman friend were in the hall, this time having a bit of a tussle about something. That young boy―I think you said his name was Alfred―suddenly appeared and literally pulled them into a room, warning them to be quiet. Then I swear I saw Christopher come around the corner and his hand looked to be covered in blood. I went down the hall after he left, and the droplets were still there. Where do you think they led to?"
She shook her head as if to say she hadn't the slightest idea and he added, "The stairwell―they stopped right at the door."
She shook a little, so he placed his hand on her shoulder. "My friend, are you sure this is what you wish to do for a career? After all you have been through, this is a grim business."
"It is, and I will get stronger and better at it as I go along. So little has been done by the police, even after the discovery of the rings. I have read nothing about it in the paper."
He handed her the New York Times, "Yes, I pointed that out in my article, the failure of the local authorities to follow up on what you discovered for them. The finding of the drugged chocolate should have made some headlines, but the story remains bur
ied on the tenth page of the paper."
She read the article and said, "It is a fine piece, I hope enough Chicagoans read it and it will renew the outrage. I still think most people believe these incidents do not have anything to do with murder, and that is why there is so little noise about it.
There is one thing I did want to ask you. Would you mind if I looked at your back?"
"I think the wound is healing―I don't feel any intense pain."
"No―that is not the reason."
"All right," he answered as he slowly removed his shirt, still wincing from the residual pain.
"I will clean it. I'm sure that needs to be done," she said.
"There are clean towels in the bath area."
She touched his skin with the hot cloth, noting that there was no evident infection. The reason she wished to see his back was to ascertain if there was any remaining imprint left that could be defined.
"Hugh and I had seen a walking stick in one of the rooms. It had the head of a wolf. I was hoping there remained enough of a mark that I might see something on your back, as the area is still red enough to have an outline. I don't know. However, it doesn't look much like the head of a wolf, but it is distorted. Do you mind if I sketch it?"
"No, not at all."
Madeline had spent many years studying art, and she hoped someday to return to painting, capturing the markings on Jonathan's back would be an easy task.
"Anything that might prove useful in the future is worth noting."
When she finished, she helped him with his shirt, and he smiled at her, but this time it was a more intimate smile.
"Madeline, we make a good team. Out mutual desire to uncover truths and see what is at the bottom of things has created a strong bond. I am happy to be once again working on a mystery with you."