The Harrison: A Beautiful Place to Die (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 2)

by Madison Kent

  She looked at him again, this time through the eyes of a woman. His eyes so luminescent blue and his enduring Yankee charm were never really lost on her, but she had kept those thoughts from surfacing. She had noticed when she touched him that something stirred in her, and she wasn't sure whether it was because of him or just the nearness of a man's partially unclothed body that made her react so. She knew that she was developing feelings for both Hugh and Jonathan. They each had their own unique characteristics that made them special to her.

  "I remember our meeting on the SS New York with great joy. If it wasn't for Sherlock Holmes, we might have never met," Madeline said.

  She had been reading Arthur Conan Doyle's first published novel, when he had approached her, asking her opinion on it, having been in the midst of reading it himself.

  "I think I may not have given up so easily, and would have found an excuse to make your acquaintance. We had quite the adventure in London, and it appears are in the midst of one again," said Jonathan.

  "I suppose I should make my way downstairs. I am hoping I might meet with Marilyn and Nancy."

  "The twin sisters―yes. May I join you?"

  "Please do."

  Vincenzo and Joanie were setting up their easels in the lobby. Madeline walked toward them while Jonathan saw Christopher Harrison in the barber-shop. He said he would join her in a few minutes, as he would like another opportunity to engage the stoic brother in conversation.

  This time Vincenzo greeted her with a warm smile, "Mrs. Donovan, I must apologize for my behavior the other day. Money can be a cruel master. Certain things I am doing are dependent upon the utmost discretion, and I am afraid I acted poorly. Someday you must allow me to do your portrait."

  "May I see what you have done recently?"

  "Of course, I am flattered that you should take an interest," replied Vincenzo.

  "Here, I will show you. Vincenzo is already covered in tips of blue paint," said Joanie.

  As she proceeded to move the canvases one by one, Madeline was struck by how talented he was, and the brilliance with which he captured the essence of the person he was painting. Behind the paintings lay a sketch pad and Madeline asked," May I see these also?"

  "They are but the rough sketches he does before he begins a painting. They will probably be of little interest to you," said Joanie.

  "On the contrary, I have also studied art and am extremely interested to see his work."

  As Madeline began turning the pages, Vincenzo suddenly looked over and abruptly stated, "No―no, Joanie, not those―no one is to see those."

  But it was too late. Madeline was staring down as what appeared to be a rough sketch of Felicia Zugaj and two other unknown girls. She had looked at Felicia's picture enough to recognize her.

  "Dear God, I believe you have drawn one of the missing girls, " Madeline blurted out.

  "No, you must be mistaken," said Vincenzo.

  "No―I carry all their photographs with me. Look..." she said as she pulled out the picture of Felicia.

  Joanie covered her mouth to prevent an even louder gasp. "Vincenzo, it is her. You have made a deal with the devil. I warned you―I knew it could come to no good."

  "Is she one of the girls you were commissioned to paint by the unknown solicitor?" asked Madeline.

  Vincenzo stopped painting, and wiped his brow with his blue fingertips, giving his now ashen colored face an even more peculiar look.

  "Oh...no...what have I done?" he said as his shoulders slumped in agony.

  "You must tell me everything, or if not me, the police," said Madeline.

  Vincenzo began speaking, the words falling out of his mouth rapidly, as if he were finally glad to be rid of the burden of secrecy.

  "A man approached me about doing the portraits of some young girls. He said the person wishing the portraits did not wish them to be seen and were only for his private collection. I would paint in an undisclosed area. I was blindfolded and taken to some place―I don't know where, but it was a lovely room filled with the chatter of young girls. They appeared happy and in no one seemed to be held against their will.

  I confess I have not paid any attention to the faces of the missing girls. I never dreamed that this could involve anything but the wishes of an eccentric person. The girls were given masquerade masks to cover part of their faces, but I sketched them without the masks on. Although they were told never to take those off, I convinced them I need to see more of the faces to do them justice."

  "Did you ever see the benefactor?" asked Madeline.

  "I would not know. The men who did come into the room from time to time were all disguised. They also wore Italian Renaissance costume masks, and spoke little."

  Jonathan had returned and had heard at least a part of the conversation.

  "This is news. I must interview you," said Jonathan.

  "No...no, I do not want my shame for all the world to see," said Vincenzo.

  "I agree...you mustn't. We will be ruined," said Joanie.

  "I promise you I will not use your name," said Jonathan.

  "That means nothing to me. Who but me is the artist in this area? I know of no other. Everyone will know it is me," replied Vincenzo.

  "On the other hand, you could become instantly known. It could be to your benefit, and certainly to the benefit of the girls," said Madeline.

  "At the end the day, come to my suite, and I will take down your story. I will not print it until you have given me your permission," said Jonathan.

  "We will go to the police," said Joanie. "I can promise you that."

  "We shall look forward to meeting with you tonight," said Madeline.

  "What a revelation," said Jonathan.

  "Let's return to my home so that we may tell the others," said Madeline.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A Picture of Worth

  Hugh and Phillip were surprised to see her returning with Jonathan. It was again a lovely weekend day. Her father and the two young men were outside smoking, and conversing with the locals.

  After retelling their tale, Phillip said, "It sounds as if our trip to the Auditorium will be postponed."

  "It is your last day, if Madeline and Jonathan have other matters to attend because of what has happened, you and I can go," said Hugh.

  "Yes, please do...do not let me stop you from going. You will have an arduous journey back to London, and should at least have an entire day of entertainment before you go back," said Madeline.

  "We shall be at Jonathan's later to meet with Vincenzo, and if you should decide to come by, we can all have dinner," she continued.

  After they had left, Jonathan confided in her about what had transpired with Christopher. "I asked him if I might inquire as to how he injured his hand, and to my surprise he answered quite frankly that he and his brothers dabbled in taxidermy, and that it was a simple slip of the knife on his part."

  "We know that is true because we have seen the stuffed birds, but we will probably never know if that is truly how he cut his hand."

  They spent the rest of the day questioning anyone who would stop to speak to them in the market area and the surrounding streets about the missing girls. It was the same story, that they looked familiar, but like so many other girls who strolled down these streets.

  By late afternoon, they were both tired and parched, "Would you like to have some refreshments?" asked Jonathan.

  "Yes, you must try the pastries at the French cafe. They are a sweet sin. It is my favorite place to stop for tea," answered Madeline.

  "Those are the girls Christopher was eyeing. Are those your friends?" asked Jonathan.

  "They are," Madeline answered as she waved to them.

  "This is my friend, Jonathan Franks, from New York," Madeline said, making the cursory introductions.

  She thought again about what Jonathan saw, and once again decided not to speak of Christopher Harrison's apparent attraction to the two. She also refrained from telling them about Vincenzo, believing it
was a private matter.

  "Where are your other friends?" asked Nancy.

  "They have gone to the Auditorium, where some of the girls who have disappeared had been seen. Besides the obvious reasons to see it―for I hear it is a wonder―I would like to browse around and get an assessment of it. We had planned to visit, but decided to attend to some business instead," said Madeline.

  "We have also planned to go," said Marilyn.

  "Be careful. You know both of you are striking, and blond haired, and that fits the description of most of the missing girls," said Madeline.

  "I'm sure both of you, however, appear to have your wits about you and would not be in danger. Madeline has told me of your assistance through the use of chemistry―quite impressive," said Jonathan.

  Nancy said in an odd tone, "Yes, we always do the right thing. Sometimes it is a great burden to always be so conscientious, but my sister ensures that we stay on the straight and narrow...always. I have yet to even have the taste of this absinthe I have heard so much about. So Mr. Franks, you can be sure we will keep our wits and do nothing that other girls our age would do," said Nancy.

  Madeline was rather stunned by sweet, demure Nancy's sudden burst of frankness. Marilyn looked at her sister as if she were appalled.

  "My sister sometimes chides me for being somewhat over-protective, but we are all we have in the world. Our life depends on our doing the right thing―our finances, everything, are such that we must always be careful, and sometimes that does not allow for much fun or entertainment," said Marilyn.

  "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," said Nancy, once again assuming her shy demeanor.

  "We will go to the Auditorium. I promise you that, sister," said Marilyn. "Do not look so sad, I am not upset that you spoke up, I may very well have protested the trip, but now I will not."

  "And next time we meet, we shall all enjoy an absinthe together, and I shall not take no for an answer. I certainly owe you both a dinner for all you have helped me," said Madeline.

  They smiled in agreement as the twins bid their farewells to her and Jonathan.

  "Shall we walk?" asked Madeline, "Or are you still in pain?"

  "We can walk, but I think I might move rather slowly," he replied.

  "I believe this is the most significant clue yet that may create the path to whoever is holding these girls. I'd like to get a past issue of the paper to see if there are pictures of the other missing girls and if they might be in the sketch," said Madeline. "My Uncle Hank generally keeps his papers piled high in a corner of his room for months. He likes to compare the horse races and follow sports. I will try to get that information from him."

  "Be careful not to get your hopes up, though. Remember what Vincenzo said; he was blindfolded, and the men were in disguise. He did not know where he was taken."

  "Yes, but he still has a wealth of information whether he believes he does or not. He must have observed enough to gives us more to go on. Painting a portrait takes a great deal of time. I suddenly feel better, as if something good has happened, and maybe there is hope that we will get to the bottom of this."

  They returned home―Madeline seeking out her friend, Uncle Hank, who was more than accommodating. Mrs. O'Malley made a late lunch for all of them while they pored over the old newspapers, looking for a photograph of the latest missing girls.

  "Tell me what is the news?" asked Uncle Hank.

  Madeline went on to relay all the latest developments to Uncle Hank and her father.

  "It sounds like you have made a breakthrough," said father.

  "Whenever I take my walks, or am in the market, I think of these poor girls and keep my eye out, especially when my path crosses the Harrison," said Uncle Hank. "Here...I have found one. Her name is Sara Anderson."

  "No...she does not look like any of the girls I saw in Vincenzo's sketch―at least to my recollection. I will take all the newspaper photos we find with us this evening when we meet with Vincenzo. We can compare them to his sketches, and his memory, in the hopes they look familiar to him," said Madeline.

  "How is it that with all the talk about the missing girls, this man did not know Felicia?" asked Uncle Hank.

  Jonathan said, "When I am investigating a story, I am never surprised at what clues or facts are missed, not just by the average person, but also by the authorities. If if he had only briefly seen the photos, the chances that he would have made the connection, especially if his only thoughts were his completion of their portrait, were probably slim."

  "His world revolves around his work, striving for success, and Joanie Sobon, his girlfriend," said Madeline.

  "I suppose I can understand that. When I am at work, or when the day is done, and we all go to a bar near the Stockyards, I don't really pay attention to anything else but the beer in my hand," said Uncle Hank.

  They continued until they were able to find the photographs of the other two girls, Julianne, and Elizabeth.

  "They're all blonde," said Uncle Hank.

  "Yes, it seems the person―or persons―we seek has an affinity for blond ladies," said Madeline.

  "I feel comforted that my auburn-haired daughter may not be at risk," said her father.

  "But the first missing girl, Maria, wasn't she dark haired? I believe the person may prefer blondes, but if the opportunity arises, may also stalk a lady with any hair color. It is more likely that that his main interest is that they are beautiful," said Jonathan.

  "Yes, Maria was a stunning girl," said Father. "What a terrible loss, I hope your meeting with Vincenzo proves to bring more information that may track this killer."

  He asked if anyone would like wine, and received affirmative answers from all at the table. Hugh and Phillip arrived and joined.

  "Did you have an enjoyable day?" asked Madeline.

  "It was a marvel. I believe they said it was the tallest building in Chicago, and that Frank Lloyd Wright also contributed to the design. It was overrun by people wanting to get a glimpse of this latest testament to Chicago's claim to be a must-see city for any traveler," said Hugh.

  "If someone intended to lure away a young lady in such an atmosphere, I would suppose it might easily go unnoticed," said Phillip.

  They went on to discuss their meeting with Vincenzo. "It is your last evening, Phillip, I don't know if you wish to come with us back to The Harrison and be part of our meeting, or if you have other plans," said Madeline.

  "I would not likely want to miss that. I will return to Chicago again, now that my cousin will have a home here. I can see the sights any time, but this, I am intrigued and will gladly come along."

  This time, it was not as easy to navigate through the hotel with their small group, especially now with Vincenzo and Joanie in their company. Patrick and Joseph Harrison were in the lobby and watched the group. They nodded to her, and Joseph managed a slight smile.

  Before they entered the elevator, Alfred came up to greet them. "I see you must be having some celebration. Can I send you up some champagne?"

  Thinking quickly, she replied, "Yes, you may. Vincenzo has agreed to paint a portrait of my friends from London so that I may have a remembrance of them," said Madeline.

  "I will do so, and there will be no charge. You may come tomorrow if you wish to further pursue your interviews. I will have the most of the afternoon available," said Alfred.

  "I will check my schedule, but I believe I will take you up on your offer," replied Madeline.

  After Alfred had left, Vincenzo said, "This is how I make my living through this wonderful place. I hope I have not jeopardized my standing here. They looked at us as if we were criminals."

  "I understand, but just think if it was your Joanie who was one of the missing girls. It is of the utmost importance that you follow through with this. You may well be the only person who had made contact with any of the girls before they perished," said Madeline.

  "Do you think all the girls in the painting are dead? No...you cannot mean that!" gasped Joanie. "Is
it all that serious?"

  "I'm afraid so. You are doing the right thing," she replied.

  Once in the hallway, their number alone caused the few stragglers to turn and stare at them. Before they reached Jonathan's room, Lady Mary and her friend, Willie, saw them.

  "I see you are now staying here. How odd indeed that if you think mischief goes on in this hotel, why would you wish to stay here?" asked Lady Mary to Madeline, while staring at each of them as if they were under suspicion.

  "Not at all, this is purely a business transaction. The talented Vincenzo will be painting my friend's picture. He will be doing the preliminary sketch today. We wished to watch as we are in such admiration of his work."

  Willie took the old woman's hand and steered her away.

  "I'm watching you, young lady!" said Lady Mary, spitting out the words, and then wiping her mouth with her gloved hand. Willie shook his head as if to apologize to Madeline, and took Lady Mary by the arm, in what seemed like a dragging motion to get her away from them. She wondered how this cantankerous lady could have such a congenial friend, as she did not seem to have the capacity for friendship, except for Alfred and the Harrison brothers.

  They gathered together in the room, placing Vincenzo's sketch book on the dining table along with the pictures from the newspaper of the missing girls.

  "There is no doubt that one is Felicia," said Jonathan.

  "Yes, it is her. She has an unusually crooked smile that I found endearing," said Vincenzo. "The others, I do not remember seeing them. They are not the same girls in my sketch as you can see."

  "Then they were the only ones in the room with you?" asked Hugh.

  "Yes, besides a man who sat in the corner most of the time. He spoke little and wore an elaborate costume mask and gown to conceal his identity, but he seemed to enjoy observing us," said Vincenzo.

  "Could you describe him as best you can?" asked Madeline.