The Nearly Notorious Nun

by Rie Sheridan Rose

  He sighed. “But I suppose there really is no stopping you.”

  “Can I come?” asked Ella eagerly.

  My first reaction was to say no, but, knowing Ella, she would demand a reason she could accept. Merely telling this child “no” was like damming a river with sand—time-consuming and potentially ineffective.

  “Didn’t you say there was a man with black hair and a mustache and beard in the cab who tried to abduct you? That sounds like it was probably Smythe, so he knows what you look like, too.”

  Her face fell. “Oh…yeah, I forgot about that.”

  “Besides, you’re ever so much prettier than I. I don’t think changing your clothes would make as much difference.”

  She looked so crestfallen, I almost relented, but then I thought of another way to distract her.

  “Ella, don’t forget that job I gave you.”

  “What?”

  “The kittens? Come with me,” I held out my hand to her. “I’ll be right back, Alastair, as soon as I change my frock. I can’t wear this to buy real estate!”

  We hurried upstairs. It felt good to be going off with Alistair again. This was how things should be.

  I glanced over the new clothing Leonora had gifted me, choosing a two-piece ensemble in a deep- purple serge that made my hair look darker, just in case. It was a bit warm for the weather, but I needed something special. I pinned my curls up tightly and added a smart little velvet hat with a veil that matched the outfit. I thought it looked most fetching as I adjusted the veil.

  “That’s awfully pretty, Miss Jo.”

  I felt myself coloring.

  “Thank you, Ella.”

  “You look like a big pile of grapes.”

  Well, you can’t win them all.

  “We should be back before dark,” I told her. “You and Hortensia try to behave yourselves until we get home.”

  “She’s just a doll—it’s not like she will cause any trouble.” Ella rolled her eyes. Another thing we had in common…

  I paused at the head of the stairs, lifting my chin and taking a deep breath. I wanted Alistair to see me at my best.

  Sweeping down the staircase, I entered the dining room. The admiration that lit his face told me that I had chosen well. If I could get a reaction like that from my employer, it should have the desired effect on Mr. Smythe.

  “You look…breathtaking,” he breathed, giving the lie to his words.

  I ducked my head to hide my pleasure at the remark.

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, do you know where this Smythe might be located?”

  “He gave me this card,” I replied, pulling it from my reticule. “I assume this is his business address.”

  He glanced at it. “This address is downtown, so you’re probably right. Shall we borrow the carriage yet again?”

  “At this rate, we really should invest in a carriage of our own, Alistair,” I replied with a sigh. “But I’m sure Aunt Emily won’t mind. She’s been very good about letting me use it so far.”

  Alistair held out his arm.

  “Shall we?”

  I took it, taking care not to skip. We hurried across the street, and he rapped upon the door.

  Suddenly, I remembered something I had completely forgotten to tell him.

  “Alistair, there’s something you really should know—”

  Before I could finish my sentence, the door swung open.

  “Don’t you look fetching in that ensemble, Josephine! Alistair, dear, it is so good to see you.”

  “Mother…what are you doing here?”

  The deeper she delved into the mystery, the more confused Amy got. She had expected repercussions from her close call at the soiree, but Phineas had performed as a perfect gentleman, acting as if the embarrassing events had never happened.

  On the other hand, she overheard her father discussing some shady business transactions that were scandalizing the ton. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the full details before he noticed her presence.

  She really must work on her stealth…

  -- Garrett Goldthwaite

  Analytical Amy and the Case of the Covetous Cad

  Chapter 15

  Leonora waved away his question.

  “Immaterial, darling. The important thing is that I am here. And what is it that you are doing here, dressed so smartly?”

  “We have an errand downtown, Leonora,” I replied. “I hate to trouble Aunt Emily for the carriage again…”

  “You really should consider investing in a carriage of your own, my boy,” she told Alistair.

  “I was just telling him the same thing!”

  She winked at me. “I knew you were a smart girl.” She turned and started down the hall, gesturing for us to follow. “I’ll have Vanessa inform Roderick he’s needed. While we wait, come and fill me in on all you’ve been doing, Alistair. I don’t get to spend nearly enough time with you.”

  “That isn’t my fault, Mother. You’re off gallivanting about the world like a schoolgirl most of the time.”

  “Alistair, be nice,” I scolded.

  Leonora stifled a smile. “There is some truth in what he is saying, my dear. I have been off exploring the world. But now, I have decided I will make my home here in the city for a time.”

  She sat herself on the sofa in the parlor and picked up the bell to call Vanessa.

  “My family is here, after all. My grandchildren are growing like weeds. My son may be settling down himself soon…”

  My face felt like a firecracker. I daren’t look at Alistair’s reaction to her last statement.

  “I wouldn’t go ordering wedding invitations just yet,” that worthy replied wryly.

  Vanessa appeared in the doorway, answering the summons of the bell. Leonora dispatched her to advise Roderick he was needed again, giving me a moment to compose myself. It wasn’t easy.

  “Now, truly, darling—you didn’t answer my question. Where are you two off to today, in your best togs?”

  “We’re going to see a man about some real estate,” Alistair answered reluctantly.

  “Perfect! I shall join you. I’ll be needing a residence of my own as soon as possible. I can’t infringe upon Emily forever, but I know nothing of the offerings in this city. I would much rather go with you than rely upon the advice of strangers.”

  “It isn’t a social occasion, Mother.”

  “We’d love to have you, Leonora.”

  Our words overlapped each other. I looked at Alistair, and he glared back at me.

  “Think about it for a moment, Alistair. It really is a good plan. It will mean less talking on my part, and, therefore, less chance that Smythe will recognize me. Besides, she really will need a home of her own if she plans to stay here in New York for any length of time.”

  He realized the futility of arguing with us both. I saw it in his eyes.

  “Very well, then. Do you plan on wearing that?” he asked pointedly, eyebrow arched.

  Leonora looked very fetching in a froth of lavender lace, but it was a house gown, definitely not something to wear on a business errand.

  “I’ll just be a moment.”

  When she had swept out of the room, Alistair turned on me.

  “Are you insane?”

  “Just thinking ahead, Alistair. Your mother is a very attractive woman. A little flirtation might be the perfect thing to get Smythe to talk freely.”

  I thought for an instant he was going to have an apoplectic fit. Luckily, I was spared any further discussion by Roderick’s arrival from the kitchen.

  “The carriage is around front, Master Alistair.”

  “We’re waiting for my mother, Roderick. Hopefully, it won’t delay us too long, I know you are a busy man.”

  “I’m completely at your disposal, Master Alistair.”

  “Now, Alistair, I haven’t kept you more than a minute,” Leonora chided, sweeping into the parlor wearing a bronze-and-brown walking dress. She seemed always to be sweeping in or out
; I made a note to myself to practice it. It was most commanding.

  “Shall we go?” Alistair answered, voice filled with ice.

  The ride to Mister Smythe’s office was painfully strained. Leonora tried to carry on a conversation, but Alistair was behaving like a spoiled child. He refused to answer her with more than curt monosyllables. It showed me a side of him I did not find flattering in the least. I wondered why he felt the need to be so unpleasant when Leonora was quite the most charming woman I had ever met.

  Luckily, the ride didn’t take too long, and we soon arrived before a granite-faced building with a plaque above the door reading Hornsby, Smythe, and Roberson: Realtors. It seemed Mr. Smythe might be in a position of real authority within this company. Perhaps the newspapers were correct, and his shabby appearance at our meeting merely eccentricity.

  Alistair helped us out of the carriage and turned to offer me his arm. I elbowed him in the ribs and nodded to Leonora. He grunted and gave her his arm instead.

  I followed them into the building.

  There was a signboard in the lobby with names and room numbers on it. The office number that appeared on the card I had been given was not assigned to a Mr. Smythe. Mr. Smythe’s offices were on the ground floor, and appeared quite substantial from the outside.

  The office number I had been given was located on the fourth floor and was listed on the signboard as belonging to a Mr. Nordham Sissinghurst. I wondered if it was more prestigious to be located lower or higher, in this case?

  If this were a residential setting, the higher one was quartered in the house, the less importance one had in the household—unless there were no spaces available elsewhere, as in my case. Something fishy was definitely going on here.

  A gilded elevator cage stood across the lobby, attended by a wizened old man who didn’t look strong enough to operate it. I had heard of these contraptions but had never had cause to use one. I didn’t much like the look of it.

  “I’ll take the stairs,” I said, pointing toward the flight of steps. “I can use the exercise.”

  Alistair was beyond protesting by this time. He helped Leonora into the cage and spoke to the old man. The elevator began to ascend.

  I saw it safely off and then hurried up the stairs. I didn’t want to miss out on all the fun. Out of breath, I arrived at the fourth floor just as the elevator jittered to a stop. Hands on my knees, I fought to regain control of my breath as Alistair helped Leonora out of the car.

  We glanced around the hallway, looking for Sissinghurst’s office. We finally found it in the shadows at the far end. His name was on the door in scratched and faded letters. I actually felt a trace of sympathy for the fellow but steeled myself against it.

  This man might fancy himself a real estate mogul, but I was beginning to understand what could drive him to blackmail and deceit. Was everything I had read in the newspapers a lie—or just the life of another man?

  It was hard to believe the fellow in this office could be the rich magnate the press made Clarence Smythe out to be, but I had no trouble accepting the office downstairs might belong to a man of prestige and wealth. I wondered how much of Sissinghurst’s story was true and how much of it was fiction. Perhaps he had adopted his employer’s persona without Smythe’s knowledge in a bid to make himself seem more important—stealing his identity to threaten Bridget.

  Alistair opened the door to the office, which creaked on rusty hinges. The interior continued the threadbare pattern. An atmosphere of moldy despair seemed to permeate the air.

  The carpet was scuffed and worn thin in patches. The furniture was outdated and sparse. The one expensive piece in the room was a large oak desk polished to a golden glow. Behind it sat the man who had introduced himself to me as Clarence Smythe, but whom other evidence named Nordham Sissinghurst; he was reading a newspaper.

  He looked up at the sound of the door. His eyes lit up at the thought of custom, and he stood with alacrity.

  “May I help you? Please, sit…” He gestured to a pair of rickety chairs in front of the desk.

  Leonora seated herself as if he had offered her a throne and motioned for Alistair to do the same. I was slightly nonplussed that she didn’t ask me to sit but then realized I could observe more of the room if I were not tied to a chair.

  Once they were seated, she took control of the situation.

  “Good day, sir. My name is Leonora Farnsworth Conn. I am looking to relocate to New York City, and I will require a residence worthy of my station.”

  “And you came to me?” His voice squeaked a little. “May I ask why?”

  She gestured toward Alistair.

  “My son recommended your firm.”

  “How did you hear about me?” Sissinghurst asked, turning to Alistair.

  Alistair was cool and collected.

  “A friend of mine had your card and offered it to me when he heard I was looking for a reputable man. I want nothing but the best for my mother. Her happiness and well-being is extremely important to me.” He was good at playacting when he wished to be; I detected not a hint of irony or sarcasm in his voice.

  “Very good. Very good.” Sissinghurst reached to the bookcase behind him and picked up a heavy scrapbook, placing it before him on the desk. “I have here a selection of woodcuts of available properties…”

  Leonora placed her hand atop the scrapbook to stop him opening it.

  “I have something specific in mind.”

  “Oh?”

  “I have a good friend who bought one of the old business buildings downtown, and she has turned it into the most exquisite residence. Central to everything, large windows, and airy spaces…I just adore it. Do you have anything like that?”

  I could see wheels turning in Sissinghurst’s head. So far, he had completely ignored me. I supposed I looked like Leonora’s companion or something. I was definitely overshadowed by her.

  I didn’t mind. It offered me the perfect opportunity to study the villain and his office. It was such a seedy place. If all of the offices in Hornsby, Smythe, and Roberson were in the same state, they couldn’t be doing very well financially.

  On the other hand, given they could afford this office building in the first place, that didn’t seem likely. It was more logical that Sissinghurst was but a junior member of the staff looking to better his position—and his office location—at the expense of the orphans. It was even possible that Messrs. Hornsby, Smythe, and Roberson had no idea what their underling was attempting behind their backs—and, in Smythe’s case, in their name.

  I wandered across the office to the windows as the others discussed the parameters Leonora was looking for in her nonexistent dream house. I twitched aside the curtain and looked out into the street, realizing with a start that I could see the convent from this vantage point—it was only three streets over and a half-block down. The children were playing in the yard behind it.

  “Nice view, isn’t it?” Sissinghurst called.

  I jumped.

  “Yes. Yes, it is.” I hastily moved away from the window to stand behind Leonora’s chair, taking care to keep my head bowed and my face hidden.

  “I might have something soon that will fit all of your requirements, Mrs. Conn,” the realtor said smoothly. “I am working on a large purchase, which should be concluded satisfactorily by the end of the week. Check back with me then.” He rose to his feet and extended his hand.

  Leonora accepted it, rising herself.

  “I look forward to it.” She started for the door. “Come along, Alistair, Miss Mann.” She never even turned her head, simply assuming we would follow.

  Which we did, of course.

  “Well, that was useless,” Alistair complained when we returned to the carriage. “I think we would have learned far more if you had not interfered with our investigation, Mother.”

  “I don’t think we were going to learn much of anything anyway, Alistair,” I broke in. “But we did find out more than we knew before.

  “First
of all, Sissinghurst may make himself out to be a rich real estate broker, but he is far down on the list, even of his company. I believe he has stolen some of his employer’s visiting cards and altered the office number to aid his deception.

  “Second, he is in visual range of the convent—he can see any comings and goings. Third…well, I don’t know if there is a third, but those first two are interesting. They mean that he is hungry to make a name, and a fortune, for himself and will probably stop at nothing to get what he wants.”

  “You are such an expert on the criminal mind,” Alistair drawled.

  “Don’t be rude, Alistair.” Leonora reached across the carriage and swatted him on the knee. “Your Miss Mann has a good head on her shoulders. Do not underestimate her.”

  I felt myself sitting taller. It felt good to have her approbation. It might come in handy one day.

  She couldn’t very well ask her father whose business affairs she had overheard him discussing. On the other hand, as she made her weekly calls, she began to see interesting patterns emerging.

  “I don’t know what I would have done without the man,” confided Mrs. Braithwaite. “He absolutely saved my life.”

  “I didn’t know where to turn, but he handled things most discretely,” Sarah Davenport gushed. “I never would have expected it of him.”

  “Did you hear about the disaster with the tea market this month? Why, I hear some people in this town lost a fortune!”

  Things were not always what they seemed, it appeared…

  -- Garrett Goldthwaite

  Analytical Amy and the Case of the Covetous Cad

  Chapter 16

  I was beginning to champ at the bit somewhat. Compared to our former adventure, the current problem was a great deal of talk with very little action. I realized life was like that, with more quiet episodes than pell-mell escapades; but I also realized that I quite liked adventure, and I wanted more of it. The rescue from the warehouse had assuaged the urge a bit, but with everyone safely home, I needed something else to do.