The Fall Of White City (Gilded Age Mysteries Book 1) (14 page)

“A hobby?” Freddie was skeptical.

“Yes, you could call it that.” Dr. Doyle smiled wryly. “I dabble a bit in poisons.”

“What?” Freddie looked at the doctor in disbelief. “Exactly what do you mean by ‘dabble’?”

 
Dr. Doyle chuckled at the consternation he had created. “Perhaps that was a poor choice of words on my part. Call it a professional interest then, but I have an extensive knowledge of the subject. There are several poisons that could produce the symptoms exhibited by Miss Bauer.”

“Really?” Freddie felt his own sense of morbid curiosity beginning to grow despite himself.

“Yes, I found a substance coating the fabric and skin around the wound that didn’t appear to be dried blood. I scraped off a small sample that looked to be a sticky, brownish residue of some kind. Since some poisons are only effective if injected into the bloodstream, this seemed the most likely way of introducing the unknown substance.”

“Did you find anything?”

“I conducted a few tests on the sample I had collected and was able to isolate the poison in question.”

“Cyanide?” Freddie’s own knowledge of poisons was hardly as extensive as the doctor’s.

“Nothing quite as common as that. Cyanide is administered by ingestion, and none of the other signs associated with cyanide poisoning were present. I assumed I was looking for something that would kill in a matter of minutes. This, of course, would rule out snake venom as a possibility since that takes a while longer to work, and the victim might have had time to call for help before she died. Of the toxic substances which I knew would act quickly, I decided to test for
strychnos
toxifera
,
and my suspicions were confirmed.”

“So it was strychnine?”

“Only a distant cousin. The Latin name has thrown you off. I’m referring to a substance known under the name of ‘curare.’ It’s a poison extracted from the bark and juice of trees in the Amazon jungle. Natives there have used it for centuries to coat the tips of arrows.”

“Well, I suppose that would improve their chances of killing their prey even if their aim wasn’t too good to begin with.”

“Yes, I should think so. Ironically, curare is harmless when swallowed. It must be injected into the blood stream in order for its poisonous properties to be activated. Its chief advantage, if you can call it that, is that it can be administered in minute quantities through an abrasion in the skin, and it will kill almost instantaneously by causing respiratory paralysis and heart failure.”

“I see. Then it might have been possible to coat the tip of the murder weapon with this substance and poison her that way?”

“Yes, absolutely. A knife dipped in the substance and then used to stab a person would have done the trick.”

Warming to the subject, Freddie asked, “How would the blow have been delivered?”

“As nearly as I can approximate, it would have been inflicted from above. I would also judge that the attack didn’t come from behind. The angle of approach suggested a murderer who was standing face-to-face with the victim and was several inches taller than she was as well.”

Freddie pictured an image in his mind. “You mean, someone who was on close terms with her, someone she trusted?”

“Yes, that’s the most probable scene.”

The young man shook the unpleasant picture out of his head. “At what time would her death have occurred?”

“The coroner’s office has estimated it to have been between ten o’clock and two in the morning.”

Freddie thought about the knife in Franz Bauer’s room. “What about the murder weapon the cops say they found? Did anybody test to see if it contained traces of poison on the blade?”

Doyle shook his head. “Since the coroner’s office believes the cause of death was a stab wound, it’s unlikely the police will pursue the poison angle. The matter will be for the courts to decide.”

“I see.” Freddie could guess the most likely verdict for Elsa’s brother, whether guilty or not. “And was there anything else you noticed about the condition of the body?”

The doctor thought back for a moment. “No, that’s all I can recall—no other evidence of a struggle, no bruising.”

Freddie sat silent, wrapped in thought.

“I did, however, discover that she was more than four months pregnant.”

“What!”

“Yes, that fact was kept out of the newspapers as well. There was no point in opening up another avenue of scandal for the hotel.”

“The Templars must have a great deal of respect for your discretion.” Freddie rose to go. “Thank you, Doctor. This has been most helpful.”

“Give my regards to Mr. LeClair’s daughter and tell her she may call on me for any assistance she requires in this matter.” Doyle ushered Freddie to the door.

By this time the rain had stopped, and Freddie decided to walk back to the office. “Well,
Engie
,” he said, carrying on a mental conversation with his absent friend, “I think we’ve found a new motive for murder. I just hope you’re sitting down when I tell you what it is!”

Chapter 13—The Fabric Of Truth

By Friday evening, Freddie was straining at the leash to have a long talk with Evangeline. They had only managed to communicate by hurried notes and telephone calls since the beginning of the week. He took the early commuter train back to Shore Cliff and didn’t bother to stop at home first. As he walked down
Center Street
in the purple dusk, he could see several lights burning in the windows of Evangeline’s house. Knowing Delphine’s thrifty rules of domestic management, he concluded that she would have kept only one room lit if her mistress were away. Therefore, the lights must mean that the lady of the house had returned to the country. He was grateful for this since telephone service had only been installed in the city and not as far north as Shore Cliff. Keeping in contact with Evangeline during their investigation had become a challenge as she moved about from one place to another.

Freddie dashed up the stairs and rapped on the front door. After a few minutes, he saw a shadow behind the curtains of the side window and knew that Delphine was staring at him. When the door still didn’t open, he renewed his attack. He raised his voice loud enough to disturb the entire street. “It’s no good pretending you didn’t see me, Delphine. You may as well let me in, or I’ll continue to knock until I rouse either the dead or your next door neighbors!”

He could hear her muttering, “
Mon Dieu! Quelle sottise!
” as she undid the lock and swung the door open.

“
Bienvenue
, Monsieur
Freddie,” she said caustically as the door opened.

“Same to you,” Freddie replied without cordiality. “Where’s Evangeline?”

“
Mademoiselle
is resting. She has just come back from the city, and she is very tired.”

“I still want to see her!” Freddie barked. “Tell her it’s important.”

Delphine tilted her chin up defiantly but motioned him to follow her down the hall. When the housekeeper opened the door to the library, Freddie could see Evangeline leaning back in one of the wing chairs with her eyes closed and her feet resting on a tapestry-covered ottoman. The massive ball of fur and inertia she called a cat was curled up in her lap asleep.

"
Pardon, ma chérie. Tu dois ouvrir les yeux. Ton chiot est revenu.
”

Freddie’s French vocabulary didn’t extend far enough to include Delphine’s latest insult. Evangeline scowled, her eyes still shut. “Delphine,
je suis très fatiguée et je n’ai pas de chiot
!
” When she opened her eyes and saw Freddie standing in front of her, she gave Delphine a long-suffering look. “
Très
amusant
.”

Delphine whirled around and, without a word, closed the door behind her.

“What did she call me this time?” Freddie’s tone was resigned.

“She referred to you as ‘my puppy.’”

“Well, I suppose it could have been worse. Her allusion to the canine species might have extended to a rude reference to my mother.”

He sighed and drew up the wing chair next to Evangeline, who by this time was sitting forward trying to shake off her drowsiness. Monsieur Beauvoir, disturbed by all the human racket interrupting his nap, had jumped down on the floor to wash his face and make himself presentable to company.

Freddie was about to launch into a colorful narration of his visit to Doctor Doyle when he noticed the solemn expression on Evangeline’s face. The story died on his lips. “What is it, old girl? You look as if you’d just returned from another funeral.”

“It feels something like that.” She rubbed her hand across her brow. “This morning, I went to the O’Malley house to collect Elsa’s effects.”

“So that’s what put you in this bleak mood.”

Evangeline grimaced. “I wish that were the only reason.” She then told her friend about her encounter with the very drunken Mr. O’Malley and his less than paternal feelings toward Elsa.

“Good Lord!” Freddie exclaimed. “Maybe he did it!”

Evangeline nodded. “It seems he had a motive at least as strong as Franz did.”

“He might even have hidden the knife in her brother’s room!”

“That thought also occurred to me. If Franz really is telling the truth, and if the police didn’t plant the weapon, then O’Malley is the most likely person to have done so.”

Freddie scratched his head. “Well, this is becoming a fine kettle of fish!”

Evangeline rested her chin in her hands and stared off into space. “I have more fish to add to the kettle, my lad. Both Franz and O’Malley were outraged at Elsa’s involvement with a mysterious gentleman. They both said he bought her expensive gifts. I may have just found one of those gifts.”

“What?” Freddie sat bolt upright.

“Follow me.” Evangeline walked across to the desk and opened a cardboard box that had been placed there. “These were Elsa’s things. Patsy packed them for me before I arrived. Inside, I found a separate parcel sent back by the police. It contained everything they didn’t want to keep as evidence. Have a look at this.”

Freddie sauntered over to the desk and stood watching over Evangeline’s shoulder. She held up a gold object that flashed and sparkled in the firelight.

Freddie whistled through his teeth. “That must have cost a pretty penny. What is it?”

Evangeline held the object out for him to examine. It was a lady’s hair ornament, about four inches long and shaped like a cross. The face of the ornament was encrusted with sapphires and rubies. Combs were soldered to the ornament and these would have held the jeweled object pressed against the back of the wearer’s head.

“How would somebody wear a contraption like this?” Freddie was mystified.

“Like this.” Evangeline demonstrated. “You see, the hair would have to be swept up toward the crown of the head in a topknot or a pompadour and secured by pins. Then the combs on this ornament would fit against the back of the head.”

Freddie studied the effect. It reminded him of the elaborate combs that Spanish ladies wore with their mantillas.

Evangeline removed the ornament from her hair and gave it back to him for further inspection.

“Do you think the stones are real,
Engie
?”

“I’d say so. I know expensive jewelry when I see it.”

“How did this slip by Mrs. O’Malley?”

“I don’t believe she ever opened the bundle from the police station. Otherwise, I’m sure this would have ended up in a pawn shop, and Mrs. O’Malley’s financial circumstances would have improved considerably. No doubt this was a gift from Elsa’s mysterious admirer.”

Evangeline rummaged around in the packing box once more. “There’s something else here you should see.”

Producing a crumpled piece of fabric, she spread it out on the desk to smooth out the wrinkles.

“A handkerchief!” Freddie almost danced with excitement. “That must be the one Bill told me about—the one he saw clutched in Elsa’s hand after they found her.”

“Yes, but it’s odd just the same. This doesn’t appear to be a lady’s handkerchief. The dimensions are too large. The weight of the fabric is too heavy. There’s no lace trim.”

“And look at the embroidery.” Freddie traced the pattern with his finger. The design was stitched with heavy black thread. It appeared to be a single flower with vines trailing out from either side. Below it were two rows of alternating black and white squares. “What are these?” Freddie pointed to sharp knots of embroidery that sprouted from the vines.

“I’m not sure. The whole design is so stylized, almost like a woodcut. It’s hard to tell. Leaves, I suppose.” She studied the item again. “This must have belonged to the man Elsa met that night. It’s an expensive piece of work, no doubt custom-made, and the owner probably ordered a full dozen just like it. At least this confirms what both Franz and O’Malley suspected. She was involved with a gentleman of means.”

Evangeline was pensive for a few moments. “But where did she meet him? She never left her own neighborhood. How could she possibly have crossed paths with a man who could afford something like this?” She gestured toward the hair ornament.

Freddie pondered the question awhile. “Well, did the Bauer girl know that Jacob Sidley wasn’t going to meet her at the Fair?”

Evangeline thought back. “Why no. As a matter of fact, she didn’t. Mr. Sidley told me he was called into a meeting at the last minute. There would have been no way for him to get word to her in time.”

“Then let’s imagine poor little Elsa Bauer standing alone and forlorn, waiting for her companion who never shows up.”

“Yes, and...?”

“Let’s further imagine a wealthy gentleman strolling through the Fair. He’s unaccompanied. It’s a fine day, and he has some time to kill. Forgive the unfortunate choice of words. He sees this striking young lady standing by herself. Maybe he waits. Maybe he makes several rounds past that same point to see if she’s still standing there. Perhaps fifteen minutes go by during which he sees her growing more and more dejected and more and more uncertain about what to do. Clearly, her companion has abandoned her. It seems the perfect opportunity, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, I see. Yes, that would explain the initial contact.”

“And what if he then strikes up a conversation and offers to show her the sights?” Freddie continued with his hypothesis. “No doubt, since he’s wealthy and bored, he’s been to the Exposition at least once before and knows all the principal things to see. She’s grateful that he’s taken charge of the situation. She allows herself to be led by him.”

“Down any number of paths, one of which is the garden path, I daresay.” Evangeline’s voice was tinged with sarcasm.

“Yes, but you see how it could have come about, don’t you? It would have been a simple matter for him to pursue the acquaintance after that—prearranged meetings in out-of-the-way places.”

“Unfortunately, I believe you’re right, Freddie. That’s probably exactly how it unfolded. Poor Mr. Sidley, if he knew that his absence that day may have made the difference between life and death.” Evangeline lapsed into silence. She focused her attention on the pattern of the handkerchief again, staring at it with great fixity. “There’s something familiar about this. I think I’ve seen this design before, but for the life of me, I can’t remember where.”

“Of all times for your memory to fail you.”

“No, I mean, it was the sort of thing you see out of the corner of your eye. Not quite aware of it. Something in the background, lurking somewhere.” Evangeline scowled as she tried to recall the context.

“Well, let it go for now,
Engie
. Maybe it’ll come back to you later. Besides, I haven’t told you about the doctor yet.”

“My goodness! With all the other information that’s been uncovered, I completely forgot about that.”

“Then listen,” Freddie began sententiously, “and you shall learn.” The young man launched into a description of his conversation with Dr. Doyle, expounding at great length on the nature of the poison. As he reached the end of his narrative, he hesitated a moment. “But that’s not the worst of it...”

“Good Lord, how much worse could it be than seduction followed by murder!”

Freddie led his listener back to her chair and sat down beside her. He took a deep breath. “She was expecting a child.”

Evangeline’s face registered shock. She exhaled a long, slow sigh. “I suppose it was inevitable. I just kept hoping that her death wouldn’t have such sordid implications.”

“It raises an even more sordid implication than illegitimacy.”

“Yes?” Evangeline looked at him and waited.

“Have you considered the possibility that she might have been trying to blackmail her seducer? That she arranged the meeting at the hotel to collect payment but that her plan misfired?”

Evangeline rubbed her temples wearily. “I suppose in light of all this new evidence, anything is possible, but I just can’t believe I was that mistaken in her character. I knew her during the course of two years, Freddie. Two years. People have a tendency to reveal their true colors over time, but I never saw her do anything remotely underhanded.”

”Well, we can’t prove that one way or another. There’s still so much we don’t know.”

“One thing I do know. Even if we assume the worst, her hypothetical crime of blackmail is far less serious than murder. There is still a man out there somewhere who is responsible. We now have three suspects to consider. I’m less concerned about the first two, because we know who they are and where they are. Franz is safely locked away in jail. Mr. O’Malley, without money, friends, or influence, could be locked up just as easily on the basis of my testimony alone. If he remains in his usual state of inebriation, I don’t expect him to have the sense to flee. We know where to find him if the need arises. It seems to me we should devote all our attention to uncovering the identity of Elsa’s mysterious gentleman friend. He may prove to be the most elusive, because he has the wherewithal to cover his tracks.”

“Well and good, but where do we start?”

Evangeline stood up and began to pace. Monsieur Beauvoir, who had been a witness to this entire exchange, sat motionless on the floor, only his eyes moving from side to side as he tracked Evangeline from one end of the room to the other.