The Fall Of White City (Gilded Age Mysteries Book 1) (11 page)

“It could work,” Bill said, puffing away speculatively, his head cocked to one side as he gazed across the table at Freddie. “With enough encouragement from the right quarter, Doyle might open up a bit. After all, it’s not as if you were after a news story on this murder—not as if you knew some little fact you aren’t sharing with your old friend Bill. That would be a pretty crazy idea, wouldn’t it, lad? I mean, you writing a story with a new angle about it or some such nonsense...” The right corner of his mouth, still clamped around the cigar, lifted in a half-smile.

Freddie laughed, but his voice sounded strained. “Yes indeed, Bill. Yes, indeed. That would be a pretty crazy idea. Just the fact that you’ve come up with a notion like that must mean you’ve already had too much to drink.” Freddie reached quickly for the bottle. “Here, why don’t we both have another.”

Chapter 9—Her Majesty,
The Queen Of Chicago

On Wednesday afternoon, Evangeline swept past the doorman and into
Chicago
’s palatial Templar House. The hotel was built with all the gilding and marble that an architect with a taste for ostentation and an unlimited budget could design. The lobby was a full two stories high and stretched the length of a city block. It was intended to impress and intimidate those who didn’t have the wealth that signified their right to be there. Despite the splendor, Evangeline was neither intimidated nor impressed. She had spent her entire life moving about in buildings of titanic dimensions, and the Templar House lobby was merely one more inlaid marble cavern to be traversed.

Approaching the reception desk, she addressed one of the clerks on duty. “Good afternoon. I’d like to speak to Mrs. Templar.” Her voice sounded hollow as it echoed off the stone counter and walls mingling with the clatter of luggage being moved for a sea of guests that ebbed and flowed like the tide.

The clerk blanched. “Madame, is there anything wrong? Please be assured that we will certainly do everything in our power to make it right.”

“You misunderstand me. I’m not currently a guest here. I wish to see Mrs. Templar on a personal matter.” Evangeline presented the clerk with one of her calling cards. “She is expecting me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Forgive me.” The clerk was obviously relieved. He bowed excessively, then led her through a side door into a walnut-paneled office.

“If you’ll just wait in here, Miss LeClair, I’ll see if I can locate Mrs. Templar for you.” He seated her in an arm chair, hovered solicitously until she was comfortable, and flew out the door to seek his employer’s wife.

Evangeline ran her hand appreciatively over the sumptuous upholstery. Her eyes drank in the decorative details of this private space—a marked contrast to the public space of the lobby—Aubusson carpet so thick that no footfall could be heard crossing it. Hand-carved wainscot and wine-colored brocade draperies muted the discordant hubbub from the street. “Only the best for
Berthe
,” she said to herself. Evangeline attributed the elegance of the room to
Berthe
Templar’s taste rather than that of her husband or the hotel decorator.

Mrs. Templar was the most formidable woman in a city not lacking in that particular variety of female. She was the acknowledged queen of
Chicago
society and bore her title with a grace and intelligence that Evangeline rarely associated with
nouveau riche
grand dames.
Berthe
, when barely out of her teens, had married a man twenty-four years her senior and defied popular expectation by making the union a happy one. Potter Templar,
Chicago
’s foremost real-estate tycoon, although clearly enamored with her beauty, had been impressed by her level-headedness as well. He had once told Evangeline that while he had never taken a business partner, the closest approximation of one was his wife, or “
Sissie
” as he liked to call her—

“
Engie
, it’s good to see you.”

Evangeline’s reverie was cut short as the connecting door on the other side of the office opened to admit the lady herself.

Berthe
Templar advanced into the room and held her hand out in greeting to Evangeline. “You’ve been a stranger of late,” she said warmly.

Mrs. Templar had quite a reputation for both her clothing and jewelry collections, but on this day her attire was relatively subdued. She wore a tailored walking suit of mauve wool. It had to be one of Redfern’s creations, Evangeline thought approvingly—such understated elegance. The costume was topped by a black velvet hat trimmed with a modicum of feathers. Her only jewelry was a heavy gold brooch flecked with rubies.

Evangeline stood and moved forward to meet her. “I’m deeply indebted to you,
Berthe
, for seeing me on such short notice. I know how busy you’ve been with the Board of Lady Managers.”

Mrs. Templar, in addition to other social commitments, was chairwoman of the committee responsible for designing and planning the Women’s Building Exhibit at the Fair.

“Yes, that’s the reason I had to receive you here rather than at home. I’m on my way to another meeting at the fairgrounds and have a fearfully short period of time at my disposal.” Mrs. Templar motioned for her visitor to sit. “It’s been a hectic few months, I assure you. But we’ve managed to stay the course. Only two more weeks to go.”

“You’ve done a fine job of showing the gentlemen on the Board what the ladies can do.”

“Thank you,
Engie
. Given the number of petty disputes that have arisen along the way among the committee members, I’m glad we haven’t shown the strain to the rest of the world. But,” she added brightly, “the purpose of our chat today isn’t for me to air my grievances. Your note said you had an urgent matter you needed to discuss.”

“Yes.” Evangeline dreaded broaching a topic her hostess would find most unpleasant. “It’s about the murder.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Templar gasped. “Of all the possible reasons for your visit, that one never crossed my mind.”

Evangeline took off her gloves and began to fidget with them. “You see, the girl who was killed... she was a student of mine... at Mast House.”

“Why, I had no idea this matter might affect you personally,
Engie
. I am truly sorry.”

Evangeline bowed her head to acknowledge the effort at condolence.

Mrs. Templar continued, “If you don’t mind my asking, was the young lady of a respectable family?”

“If you’re asking whether she was in the habit of forming clandestine attachments to men of questionable character, the answer is an emphatic no.”

“I’m relieved to hear that. You can’t imagine how relieved.” Mrs. Templar sighed. “After seeing this business exposed so rudely in the press, our clientele doesn’t know what to think of the Templar House. We are the premiere hotel in this city and, with the Exposition drawing an international set, we have worked hard to maintain a cultivated image. This was hardly the sort of thing we wanted the world to see.”

“Yes, I understand your concern for the credibility of the hotel,
Berthe
, but my principal concern is the credibility of Franz Bauer.”

“Who?” Mrs. Templar looked puzzled.

“The young man arrested for the murder, the dead girl’s brother.”

“Oh, I see.” An edge came into
Berthe
Templar’s voice. “And are you aware of the disturbance he caused here the night she was killed?”

Evangeline adopted a conciliatory tone. “Yes, unfortunately, I am. Franz’s temperament is a bit excitable.”

“Apparently excitable enough to drive him to murder.”

“It seems a bit premature to assume he’s the only possible suspect,
Berthe
.”

“Do you know about his unfortunate choice of political causes?”

“Yes. It’s no secret that he’s a member of a radical political group, and I’m well acquainted with your views and Mr. Templar’s on the subject of anarchists.”

Berthe
Templar began to tap the arm of her chair with her index finger—the only hint of agitation she betrayed. “Then given these circumstances, what can you possibly say in his defense?”

Evangeline smoothed the creases in her gown as an attempt at nonchalance. “Precious little, I’m afraid. But I have reason to suspect the police planted the murder weapon in his home.”

Mrs. Templar’s face registered mild surprise. “That’s a very serious charge, my dear. Can you prove it?”

“In order to do that I need your help.” Evangeline felt she had already strained the good will of her listener. She wasn’t sure if her next words would elicit a positive response or terminate the interview altogether. “I’d like your cooperation while I conduct a private investigation of my own.”

To her credit, Mrs. Templar didn’t react either with shock or anger. She merely raised an eyebrow. “And what would that entail?”

“Your instructions to your staff to answer honestly any questions I might put to them. And a similar set of instructions to Dr. Doyle.”

Mrs. Templar sat back in her chair. She tilted her head to the side and studied her visitor. “And why would I consent to do such a thing?”

Evangeline returned her gaze evenly. “Because I believe you to be a fair-minded person who wouldn’t wish to contribute to a miscarriage of justice.”

Mrs. Templar smiled briefly at the observation. Without speaking, she stood up and began to walk around the room in a leisurely fashion—apparently weighing the decision further. At the window, she held the curtain aside to gaze out.

“
Engie
, come here, please. I’d like you to look at something.” Evangeline crossed the room to where Mrs. Templar stood. “What do you see out there?”

Evangeline looked quizzically at Mrs. Templar and then turned her attention to the scene outside. “Well, I see carriages... people walking along the sidewalk... a policeman directing traffic at the intersection. Why? What do you see?”

Mrs. Templar turned away from the view and moved back to her chair. Evangeline followed. “When I look out there, I don’t merely see a disconnected set of figures bearing no relationship to one another. I see a society. A well-ordered society that only exists because of a set of commonly agreed-upon principles of conduct.”

Mrs. Templar held up her calling card case. “Why do you suppose we present these? Why do we bow to our acquaintances when we pass them in our carriages? Why are we gracious even to such graceless creatures as the
Infanta
of Spain?”

“Why, indeed.” Evangeline laughed, remembering the insult Mrs. Templar received from the aristocrat. “A Spanish princess who refused your dinner invitation because, as she put it, you were the wife of her innkeeper!”

Her eyes narrowing at the memory of the slight, the other woman continued. “We choose to overlook rudeness because that is one of the rituals of polite society. All such rituals, as trivial as they might seem, provide a framework for our conduct. They help us to function as a community. Without these, what sort of jungle do you suppose we would inhabit? Your young friend Franz, and those like him, they have a passion to tear down all these rules we live by. And once they have torn down every law and destroyed every fragment of morality, what will be left to stand between them and the devils they’ve unleashed?” Mrs. Templar stared at Evangeline as the question hung in the air between them.

“I don’t know the answer to that,
Berthe
. But there is one rule that applies to anarchists and republicans alike. A man is innocent until proven guilty. By law he is guaranteed a fair trial. If you willfully obstruct my chance to find out the truth, then you have violated one of the most fundamental rules of your well-ordered society. Are you willing to take responsibility for the devils you, yourself, will unleash in consequence?”

Berthe
Templar bowed her head slowly in acquiescence. “
Touché
, my dear.” Evangeline held her breath in anticipation. Mrs. Templar chose her next words with great care. “If I were to consent to assist you in this matter... I say, if... I would require you to conduct your inquiry as discreetly as possible.”

“Yes, of course.”

“There would be no attention drawn to your activities and no public announcement of your progress. If you were to find evidence that might point to another suspect, you would notify me of your findings before the news is made public.” Mrs. Templar paused. “These would be my conditions. Would you be able to accept them?”

“Without reservation.”

“If you couldn’t fulfill these conditions, I would be required to withdraw my support immediately from you. Do you agree to this?”

Evangeline looked her directly in the eye. “Yes,
Berthe
, I do.”

“Very well, then, I’ll arrange matters.” Mrs. Templar rose decisively and opened the front door of the office. She beckoned to the desk clerk to return. “Humphrey, come here. Miss LeClair has some questions to ask you, and you are to give her whatever information she requires.”

“Yes,
madame
, at once.” Humphrey clicked his heels and sprang to the door at the first summons.

Mrs. Templar prepared to leave. She turned to Evangeline and added, “Humphrey was on duty the evening of the unfortunate event. He has already been questioned by the police. I’ll send for the chambermaid who discovered the body while you’re speaking to him. I’ll also telephone Dr. Doyle and let him know how matters stand.” She held out her hand to Evangeline. “Forgive my skepticism, my dear. I wish you every success in uncovering the truth. And, more importantly, I hope the truth you uncover will be to your liking.”

“Thank you,
Berthe
. I am most grateful.” Evangeline shook Mrs. Templar’s hand energetically. Without further ceremony the queen of
Chicago
closed the door, leaving Evangeline in the company of the clerk.

Chapter 10—In The Grand Manor

“Humphrey, is it?” Evangeline began tentatively.

“Yes, miss. That’s me.” The clerk stood at attention and clicked his heels in acknowledgement. There was a military precision about the young man that extended well beyond his method of addressing his employer’s clientele—a spit-and-polish shine that traveled from the patent leather sheen of his hair to the gleam of his brass buttons all the way down to his recently buffed boots.

“Have a seat, won’t you?” Evangeline indicated the chair next to her own.

“No, thank you, miss. If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to stand. Sitting in your presence would make me too nervous.”

And would prevent you from bowing and clicking, no doubt, Evangeline thought. “Well then, let’s begin. I’m conducting a private inquiry into the death that occurred here the night of October seventh. The unfortunate girl was a student of mine. I understand you were on duty that evening?”

“Yes, miss. Indeed I was, at the Ladies’ Entrance that evening.”

“Can you remember anything noteworthy about the time Miss Bauer came in?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t, miss. The police asked me the same thing, but we get so many people checking in and out of an evening. We have seven hundred rooms here, you know. It’s hard to keep track of a single person. Except—”

“Yes?”

“Well, that’s odd, isn’t it,” Humphrey said, half to himself. “I didn’t remember this until just now when you asked.”

“What?” Evangeline had to suppress a desire to pull the words out of him.

“I distinctly recall that she had no luggage with her. Just a small valise that she could carry in one hand. When I rang for the bellhop, she stopped me and said it wouldn’t be necessary. And I remember thinking to myself how unusual that was. Then I reasoned that she might have packed a few things in that little bag since it was just an overnight stay, and I thought no more about it. But it’s just that ladies usually don’t travel that light.”

Evangeline smiled to herself at his observation, recalling the trunk she usually ordered packed whenever she was planning even a brief stay in town.

“And there’s nothing else you remember about her arrival?”

“Nothing, miss, except that I thought she was deuced pretty, that’s all.”

“Yes, that was the general opinion about her.” Evangeline cut the topic short. “Let’s move on to later events. Since she was attacked and killed that night, we can conclude that someone probably came to see her in the evening. She checked in alone, so the visitor must have arrived sometime later. Do you remember anyone inquiring for her, say around nine or ten o’clock? Anyone other than the man who’s been arrested, that is.”

Humphrey hesitated, then shook his head energetically. “No, miss, I’m sorry, but I can’t say that I do.”

“Oh,” Evangeline replied is a small voice, disappointed to be at another dead end. “I was hoping that you might have seen someone.”

Humphrey looked down at his shoes in embarrassment, apparently afraid that he appeared to be uncooperative. “As I said, miss, I’m sorry.”

Evangeline persisted. “Is there anyone else you can think of who might have seen something that night or the next morning?”

“Well, that night around ten o’clock, Miss Bauer pressed the call button in her room. All our rooms have electric call buttons, you know. They’re silent in the guest rooms but they ring through to the floor attendant’s station. Anyway, she pressed the call button. The floor attendant knocked at her door, thinking she probably wanted her bed turned down, but there was no answer. The door was locked from the inside so the maid assumed she must have changed her mind. She didn’t try her pass key because she didn’t want to disturb the lady, and so she left.”

“For all we know, that might have been an attempt to call for help,” Evangeline observed bleakly.

“Yes, that’s what the police thought when the night attendant told them.”

“So none of the staff actually went into the room around the time the crime might have occurred?”

“No, the body was found the next morning.” Humphrey cleared his throat nervously. “It was found by Sally, one of the chambermaids. The police already talked to her, but you’d better ask her yourself. She’s a bit flighty, though. I don’t know how much help she’ll be.”

“That’s all right. One never knows what will emerge, Humphrey. Thank you for your candor.” Evangeline extended her hand to the clerk. He bowed over it, clicked his heels thunderously one last time, and left to fetch Sally.

A few minutes later, a plump girl with frizzled blond hair was propelled into the room, probably with the assistance of a nudge from behind. She stood near the door after it was closed and eyed Evangeline curiously.

Evangeline began simply, trying to put the girl at ease. “Hello, Sally, my name is Miss LeClair, and I have some questions to ask about the night Miss Bauer died here.”

As Evangeline soon discovered, shyness was not in Sally’s nature. The maid’s eyes immediately began traveling around the office, taking note of the pictures, books, and rich draperies. “I never been in this room before. It’s
nicer‘n
some of the guest rooms.”

Evangeline laughed. “Perhaps the hotel ought to rent it out to increase profit.”

“That’s what I’d do if I was them.” Sally showed an amazing amount of assurance for one of such humble station.

The girl walked boldly up to Evangeline’s chair and put her hand forward. “Pleased to meet
ya
, miss.”

“And I, you.” Evangeline was taken slightly aback by the girl’s brazenness as they shook hands. Quite a contrast to Humphrey, who surely outranked her. “Why don’t you sit down here.” Evangeline indicated the chair next to her own.

Sally, needing no urging, quickly flopped down into it. “Lordy, my feet are so tired from going up ‘n’ down, up ‘n’ down.”

“Then, why not put them up on that footstool.” Evangeline gestured to the item in the corner.

It took Sally little additional time to make herself completely at ease. Breathing a long sigh of relaxation as she sank deeper into the chair, she closed her eyes dreamily for a moment.

“This is sure enough the life. A big, comfy chair where I could give orders an’ have somebody else fetch ‘n’ carry for me the livelong day ‘stead of the other way around. Right now I feel like a regular queen.”

Stifling a smile, Evangeline forged ahead. “I’m glad you’re so relaxed, Sally, but I have some serious questions to ask you about the young lady you found dead in her room.”

Sally opened her eyes slowly, showing no trace of alarm at the question. “Oh, that was
somethin
’, wasn’t it. Gave me quite a turn when I walked in an’ found her that way.”

“Tell me about it.”

Sally sat up a bit in the chair. “Well, I started my rounds
makin
’ up the rooms around nine that morning. I knocked before I tried the pass key to get in, like usual. Well, there’s no answer, so I figure whoever’s
stayin
’ in the room must’ve already checked out. Anyhow, I let myself in an’ I seen her
lyin
’ there on the floor. At first, I figured maybe she was just passed out, so I go over to see if I can maybe wake her up. I take her by the wrist to shake her but her arm is stiff an’ cold as marble. I dropped it pretty fast after that, I can tell you. When I hopped up on my feet, all of a sudden I seen the blood on the back of her gown. That’s when I figured she wasn’t just dead, she’s been murdered. I threw down the towels I was
carryin
’ an’ ran down the hall
yellin
’ for help at the top of my lungs. I didn’t want no part of
stayin
’ there by myself longer than I had to.” Sally was out of breath from the drama of her narrative.

“And then the police arrived?”

“Yeah, and they dragged me back in the room again to describe what I seen when I came in, and I told ‘em just what I’m
tellin
’ you now.”

“Is there anything else that you remembered afterward? After the police left?”

Sally knit her brows together in concentration. “No, not a blessed thing. But I been
havin
’ quite a time of it since then, I can tell you.”

“Oh, why’s that?” Evangeline wished to draw out every scrap of information that she could.

“Because everybody I know who works in the hotel wanted to see the murder room, which is what they’re all
callin
’ it now. So I’d just use my pass key and show ‘em around and tell ‘em the story. It got to be so much trouble that I started
chargin
’.”

“Really!” Evangeline laughed. “I must compliment you on your entrepreneurial spirit.”

“On my what?” Sally wasn’t sure whether to be offended or not.

“On your ability to turn a bad situation to your advantage.”

“Oh that,” the chambermaid relaxed. “Well, business has died down some now, but while it was
goin
’ strong it was enough for me to buy myself a pair of red silk stockings.” She raised the hem of her skirt above her boot tops to reveal some lurid scarlet leggings. “See?”

“Quite impressive.” Evangeline’s face registered a variety of emotions which she hoped the girl would interpret as admiration. “Sally, how much do you charge for a tour?”

“Ten cents. But Humphrey told me to do whatever you want anyway.” She appeared glum. “So I guess if you want a tour it’s
gonna
be for free.”

Evangeline reached for her purse. “Nonsense, he doesn’t need to know that I’m paying the going rate, and with the tip I intend to give you, maybe you’ll be able to save up enough to buy matching garters.”

“Oh, I’d cut a dash in them for sure.” Sally eyes gleamed as she took the money. “Step right this way, miss, an’ I’ll give you the grand tour.”

Humphrey looked quizzically at the two as they emerged from the office, but when Evangeline explained they were going upstairs to look at the room he merely nodded.

“Sally, what if someone’s occupying the room? Won’t that be a problem?”

The maid waved her arm dismissively. “No need to bother
yerself
about that, miss. Nobody’s been
stayin
’ in that room since the night of the murder. What with the coppers
traipsin
’ through, an’ Mr. an’ Mrs. Templar so jumpy about the ‘reputation of the establishment’ as they’re
callin
’ it, it’s
gonna
to be a long time before it gets used again.”

“Oh, I see.” Evangeline was secretly pleased that she would have the opportunity to inspect the scene at her leisure.

The two took the elevator up to the fourth floor and turned down to the end of a long corridor. When they came to the door of Room 402, Sally used her pass key to enter. “These are all the cheap rooms at the back. That’s ‘cause they got no view.”

Evangeline took a deep breath before entering. Until that moment, her pursuit of a murderer had been little more than a fascinating intellectual exercise. Now she was about to confront the reality of the place where her young friend had died.

The room was small by the standards of the Templar House. It had little in the way of opulent amenities to recommend it. A brass bed, a marble-topped dresser, a carved oak chevalier mirror, and a chaise longue were all it contained. Evangeline paced back and forth, lost in thought. Sally stood watching her.

Finally she turned to the girl. “Where was she when you found her?”

“Over there,” Sally pointed toward the window. “She was
layin
’ with her face pressed against the floor over there.”

“Ah.” Evangeline stepped forward and examined the sash for signs of forced entry but found none. Over her shoulder, she asked, “The window, was it locked or open when you came in?”

“It was shut. I didn’t look to see if it was locked, but the copper said afterward it wasn’t.”

Evangeline continued her inspection. Despite the lack of a pleasant view to frame, the window was large. The bottom pane reached up to Evangeline’s eye level, which made it close to five feet above the floor. She grasped the handles to see if it would raise and it slid noiselessly upward on its track. She leaned out over the sash and saw a fire escape leading down from the window and
criss-crossing
each subsequent level until it reached the alley below. The building directly across from the room where she stood had no windows at all fronting the alley. “How convenient for the murderer,” Evangeline murmured under her breath. “No witnesses.”

She pulled her head back into the room and shut the window. Turning to Sally, she asked, “Is there anything else you can recall? Something you forgot to tell the police?”

“Like I said before, miss, nothin’ I can think of. But since you been so nice to me, there is somethin’ somebody else saw that maybe you should know about.”

“Really!” Evangeline was all attention.

“I didn’t say it to the coppers because I didn’t know it till afterwards, and the party who did see it wants to be kept out of it. He hates the law ‘cause they ran his brother in on some trumped-up pickpocket charge.”

“And this is someone you work with here?”

“Yeah, he’s a porter. I’ll tell you that much. And the day after all this happened, a bunch of us was chit-chatting about it and this party I was
tellin
’ you about, he takes me aside and says he seen
somethin
’, too.”