“Of course. So nice to see you both again.”
Maeve smiled and Gino smirked from where he stood on the other side of the room, but neither of them said a word.
“And this is Miss Vane.”
Finally, Mr. Robinson turned his full attention to her, and to give her credit, she met his gaze without flinching, although her color was a bit high. She also offered her hand, which he took in both of his. “So nice to meet you, Mr. Robinson.”
“I’m very pleased to meet you, too, Miss Vane.”
For a long instant, no one moved or even breathed, and then Robinson released her hand and stepped back. Sarah exhaled the breath she had been holding and thought everyone else did the same.
Malloy once again came to the rescue, offering Mr. Robinson a drink, which he declined—“A little early for me”—and getting him seated. So far he was doing well, and Sarah couldn’t help thinking how nervous he must be, too.
“Mrs. Malloy,” he said when an uncomfortable moment of silence had passed, “I am hearing good things about the clinic. I believe it is raising the entire tone of the neighborhood.”
“Really?” Sarah replied, surprised he would mention such a potentially embarrassing subject in front of Jocelyn. “In what way?”
“Your midwives, for one. They have caused quite a revolution in the way children are being cared for.”
“Already?”
“Oh yes. They’re holding classes, I hear.”
“Indeed they are. Does anything happen in that part of the city that you don’t know about?”
“Very little of importance,” Mr. Robinson said with remarkable humility.
“Maybe we should be asking Mr. Robinson’s advice on some other things,” Maeve said to Malloy.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Malloy said. “But that can wait. How are these classes changing things?”
“Let’s just say we have never seen so much soap sold in that part of the city.”
“Then the classes are having the desired effect,” Sarah said.
“You seem to take an unusual interest in the children of that neighborhood, Mr. Robinson,” Jocelyn said.
Sarah saw her own surprise reflected on Malloy’s face. She had assumed Jocelyn would be too nervous to engage in conversation.
To his credit, Mr. Robinson didn’t seem surprised at all that she had addressed him. “I do, as a matter of fact. I spent a good part of my youth on those very streets.”
“That must have been difficult.”
“I survived, although many others didn’t.”
“And you’ve done well for yourself, it appears.”
He smiled at that, although it was just a small twist of his lips. “Yes, I have.”
“And yet, as you say, some did not even survive. To what do you credit your success, then?”
He leaned back and considered her question for a long moment, during which she continued to hold his gaze with a confidence Sarah could only admire. Although Sarah knew Jocelyn was anxious, she betrayed none of that. If she’d thought Jocelyn Vane would be a good match for Black Jack Robinson, she was sure of it now.
Mr. Robinson said, “I think I must have been too stubborn to die.”
“But you did more than just not die.”
“And I was willing to work hard and do whatever came to hand. It wasn’t always legal, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid,” she said with a small smile of her own. “I’m not sure everything my father does is legal either.”
“It probably isn’t, although I’m surprised you realize it.”
“Why? Because I’m a female?”
“Not at all. I’ve learned never to underestimate females. I just meant a loving daughter often doesn’t see her parents’ faults.”
“I think a loving daughter simply chooses to overlook them.”
“If I’m ever fortunate enough to have a daughter, I hope she will do the same for me.”
They never knew how Jocelyn might have replied to that, because their maid, Hattie, chose that moment to announce dinner was served. Sarah bit back her disappointment and ushered her guests into the dining room.
She seated Mr. Robinson beside Jocelyn on one side of the table. Gino and Maeve sat on the other side with Malloy at the head and herself at the foot. The dinner conversation was lighter, as Maeve and Gino spoke of the weather and Malloy’s motorcar—which Mr. Robinson expressed a strong desire to see—and the latest scandals being reported in the newspapers.
Sarah noticed that neither Jocelyn nor Mr. Robinson had much of an appetite but that they frequently looked at each other. Jocelyn asked him the occasional question, and he responded as if somehow honored to be the object of her attentions. Perhaps he was.
Sarah had given considerable thought to how they might profitably spend the time after dinner. A game seemed like a good way to get people to relax and talk, and Sarah thought she knew the perfect one.
“What’s this?” Malloy asked when he brought Gino and Mr. Robinson into the parlor when they’d finished their after-dinner drinks.
“The Checkered Game of Life,” Sarah said.
“It’s such fun,” Jocelyn said.
“And I’m very good at it,” Maeve informed Gino in a clear challenge.
“Are you familiar with it, Mr. Robinson?” Sarah asked.
“Parlor games aren’t too popular with people who don’t have parlors, and I didn’t have one until recently,” he said apologetically.
“Don’t worry,” Jocelyn said. “I’ll teach you how to play.”
That was all the encouragement he needed.
All six of them sat down around the game table, and true to her word, Jocelyn explained the basics of the board game to Mr. Robinson.
When she demonstrated the teetotum to him, he frowned as he spun the cardboard hexagon bearing the numbers one through six that was mounted on a wooden stick and used to determine how many spaces a player could move.
“Why don’t they just use dice for this?” he asked.
“Because they’re associated with gambling and many people will not have dice in their house,” Jocelyn told him with mock solemnity.
“I see,” he replied, equally solemn.
He had no trouble picking up the rules of the game, convoluted as they were, though. The object was to move from “Infancy” to “Happy Old Age,” but one could not achieve happy old age without also accumulating at least fifty points along the way. Spaces such as “Success,” and “Honor” and “College” could earn points. Spaces like “Crime” sent you to “Prison,” and “Gambling” led to “Ruin.”
Gino and Maeve were enjoying the competition and teased each other unmercifully over their decisions. Maeve moved two spaces, landing on the one occupied by Gino’s disk. “You go to jail.”
Gino sighed dramatically. “I still have more points than you.”
“I think you’re cheating. Every time I look away, you move your dial up a notch.”
“I do not. Mr. Robinson is keeping too close an eye on me.”
“Indeed I am, Miss Smith, because he’s keeping a close eye on me, too,” Robinson said.
At one point, Mr. Robinson spun a one.
“That allows you to move one space up or down,” Jocelyn said, consulting her “record dial” card.
Without hesitation, Mr. Robinson moved to the “Matrimony” space.
Jocelyn frowned. “I’m not sure that was the best strategy, Mr. Robinson. While it does get you closer to ‘Happy Old Age,’ it also doesn’t earn you any points. You could have moved to ‘Happiness’ and gotten five.”
“Yes, but I should hate to reach old age without matrimony, Miss Vane,” he told her with a smile. “And I expect happiness will come along with it.”
Sarah always claimed that was the moment he won
her.
* * *
• • •
Frank usually didn’t enjoy board games, but he had found this one extremely entertaining. In spite of his inexperience and Maeve’s and Gino’s intricate strategies, Robinson managed to win. A gambler’s luck, he had claimed, to everyone’s amusement. While Frank had been skeptical of Sarah’s plan to bring him and Jocelyn Vane together, he couldn’t deny it seemed to be working.
After the game, they had all enjoyed some coffee, and then Sarah announced it was time to take Miss Vane back “home.” The men took that opportunity to show Robinson the motorcar, since Gino had to fetch it from the mews behind the house, where it was stored.
Gino led the way, and as they walked down the alley, Robinson fell into step beside Frank. “Mrs. Malloy told me you’re investigating the death of that man who owned the dairy.”
“That’s right. Clarence Pritchard. His daughter married one of our neighbors, and she asked me to help when the police dropped the case.”
“Do you know why they dropped it?”
“Because somebody bribed Chief Devery, but I haven’t figured out who yet.”
“I might have.”
Frank gaped at him. “Why would you have done that?”
“Because Mrs. Malloy asked if I had any idea why somebody would be using milk wagons late at night.”
“And you just happened to know?”
Robinson smiled. “I’m not that good, but I did ask around about the dead man’s son. His name was in the obituary, and in my experience, the sons of wealthy men often get themselves in trouble.”
“And is Harvey Pritchard in trouble?”
“He’s in debt, which can lead to all sorts of trouble. The boy likes to gamble, you see.”
“Is he in debt to you?”
“No, more’s the pity. I’m a reasonable man. He’s in debt to Lou Lawson.”
Frank groaned.
“Yes, it’s unfortunate,” Robinson agreed. “Harvey should have just confessed all to his father and begged him to pay the debt.”
“Yes, he should. Oh, I just remembered something that suddenly makes sense. I witnessed an argument between Harvey and his father. Harvey had said something offhandedly about how he’d bet his father would do something or other, and his father became furious. Pritchard said Harvey would bet on anything, or words to that effect. So he must have known about the gambling.”
“And if it made him that angry, he must have known about the debts, too. When was this?”
“Just a few days before Pritchard was killed.” Frank now had to rethink everything he knew about Harvey.
“Mrs. Malloy said Pritchard was a painfully honest man,” Robinson said as they reached the former stable where the motorcar sat. Gino had already opened the door and stood waiting for them.
“Yes, he wouldn’t have been happy to learn his son was in debt to a man like Lawson.”
“And I’ve been thinking,” Gino said, obviously eavesdropping. “If he’d been afraid to tell his father about the debt, at least at first, he might’ve come up with some scheme to raise the money himself.”
“Like using the milk wagons to move stolen goods, you mean?” Frank turned to Robinson. “My wife said you also thought that’s what was happening.”
“It does seem logical. The question is, did Harvey think of that himself or did Lawson force him to do it?” Robinson said.
“I guess I’ll have to ask Harvey,” Frank said.
“And if he won’t confess?”
Frank hadn’t even considered such a thing. “I guess I’ll have to ask Lawson, then.”
“I’d like to see that,” Robinson said.
“You don’t think I’d do it?” Frank asked, more than a little offended.
“I suppose you could try, but not many people get to meet Mr. Lawson. He’s notoriously shy.”
“Shy?”
“I’m being diplomatic. He can’t be bothered. He lets his henchmen handle the dirty parts of the business.”
“Is this a dirty part?”
“Probably. Look, do me a favor. If you do need to talk to him, let me arrange it and go with you.”
“That’s very generous of you,” Frank said, although he was more than a little insulted.
But Robinson just shrugged. “Mrs. Malloy has been very kind to me. I would hate to see her widowed.”
* * *
• • •
When the men had gone, Jocelyn sank down onto the sofa and placed a hand over her heart, as if trying to hold it in her chest.
“Are you all right?” Sarah asked, sitting down beside her.
“I don’t know. What do you think? Did he like me?”
“I think he liked you very much. The question is, did you like him?”
“I hardly know. You were right, he’s very charming.”
“And intelligent,” Maeve added. “And rich. He’s not bad-looking either.”
“I think he’s kind, too, in his own way,” Sarah said. “Or at least kind to those he cares about.”
“I would be forever in his debt, and my child, too. Some men would never let a woman forget that.”
“But he wants something from you in return, something you are well equipped to give him, too,” Sarah reminded her.
“Respectability?” Jocelyn scoffed.
“Or what passes for it in high society,” Sarah said with a smirk. “You understand that world, and you know how to navigate it.”
“So will you take him?” Maeve asked.
Jocelyn smiled sadly. “He hasn’t asked me to take him yet, but if he does, I don’t have much choice, do I? I’m not likely to get another offer.”
“You do have choices,” Sarah reminded her, “although the others aren’t what you want either. Your parents will let you come home and resume your life, as long as you give up your baby. Some would consider that an easy choice.”
“But I know that they will never let me forget what they did for me. So I’ll have to live with their smug sanctity and without my child, always wondering what became of him. Or her. And if I ever get an offer of marriage, assuming we are able to keep my downfall a secret, I will have to decide whether to tell him and risk being scorned or not tell him and risk having him learn the truth later. You’re right, none of those is what I want.”
“And somehow I don’t see you working in a factory while you leave your baby at a Salvation Army creche,” Maeve said.
Jocelyn shook her head. “Even if they’d hire me at a factory, my parents would probably force me to come home and take the child anyway. They’d never let me disgrace them like that.”
“Don’t judge Mr. Robinson too harshly,” Maeve said. “I think he might be as grateful to have you accept him as you would be to have his protection.”
“His protection,” Jocelyn echoed sadly. “That sounds like a melodrama.”
“He really would offer protection,” Sarah said. “He would protect your reputation and never allow your parents to force you to do anything.”
“Not only that, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t allow anyone else to hurt you either,” Maeve said.
“Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Jocelyn sighed.
* * *
• • •
This is a fine machine, Malloy,” Robinson declared when Gino had driven them around to the front door. “I might need to get one myself.”
“I’d be happy to help you choose one,” Gino said. “I’ve studied up on the various kinds, and I think we got the best one there is.”
“I’ll certainly take you up on that, Donatelli.”
Gino stayed with the motorcar while Frank and Robinson went back inside. Jocelyn and Maeve were already bundled into their coats and dusters. Frank noticed that Jocelyn wasn’t smiling. The spirit she had shown
all afternoon seemed to have evaporated.
Robinson went directly to her. “I’m very happy to have met you, Miss Vane. Perhaps, if you’re willing, we could speak again very soon.”
The color blossomed in her cheeks, and she almost smiled. “I . . . Yes, I . . . If we can arrange it, that would be fine.” She turned to Sarah. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Malloy.”
“It was my pleasure,” Sarah assured her.
After another round of good-byes, Maeve escorted Jocelyn out. Gino saw them tucked into the rear seat of the motorcar, and then they were on their way.
“And I must thank you, too, Mrs. Malloy,” Robinson said. “I believe you have done me a great service.”
“I hope so, Mr. Robinson.”
For a moment, he looked a little unsure of himself, an expression Frank suspected not many people ever saw on him. “Did she . . . ?”
Sarah took pity on him. “She found you charming, Mr. Robinson. I believe she would welcome an offer from you.”
His sigh of relief was almost comic, although neither Frank nor Sarah showed any amusement. “What do you advise me to do, then?”
“I don’t think we need to stand on ceremony. I can arrange for Miss Vane to visit here again, and the two of you can speak privately.”
“I should like a few days to prepare,” he said. “Perhaps we could set Wednesday for our next meeting.”
“I’ll make the arrangements.”
When he had gone, Frank turned to Sarah. “What do you think he needs to prepare?”
“I don’t know, but I’m looking forward to finding out.”
* * *
• • •
The next morning, Sarah went to visit Mrs. Ellsworth and Theda. Theda looked a little better than she had at the funeral, but she still wasn’t her usual self. They’d been baking and gladly took a break to visit with her. They insisted that Sarah have some cake and coffee with them.
“I’m so glad you came, Mrs. Frank,” Theda said when they were seated at the kitchen table. “We’ve been desperate to know if you’ve made any progress.”
“We’ve learned a lot, but we don’t know if any of it is important yet,” Sarah said. “I know it’s difficult to wait, but these things take time.”
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