The Fall Of White City (Gilded Age Mysteries Book 1) (20 page)

“Of course.” Wallace picked up the other folder on his desk. “It would seem Mr.
Blackthorne
came to us straight out of college. His letter of introduction is from one of his professors at
Northwestern
University
. He started at the firm in 1885 and left on September 10, 1890.”

Freddie wrote an additional note to himself and then shook the older man’s hand enthusiastically. “You have no idea how much you have helped me, Mr. Wallace! If there’s ever anything I can do to repay you, please don’t hesitate to call on me.”

Wallace appeared flustered by this outburst of gratitude. He cleared his throat self-consciously. “Very well, Mr. Simpson, very well. No need to make such a fuss. All in a day’s work, I’m sure...” Before he could finish the last sentence, Freddie had already flown out the door.

Chapter 20—A Chat With Mother

Evangeline sat in a box seat at the Acropolis Theater watching Jonathan
Blackthorne’s
mother arrange herself. Unfortunately, she had committed herself to attending this social event long before Elsa’s death. The Ladies’ Charitable Auxiliary was staging a benefit theatrical performance to raise funds for the Chicago Children’s Hospital. Many of the ladies of Shore Cliff and
Lake
Arbor
were active members of the society. Evangeline was no exception and neither was Mrs.
Blackthorne
.

Evangeline feared that an evening spent with her mother-in-law elect might provide an opportunity to discuss an extremely unpleasant topic—Jonathan’s veiled proposal. However, Mrs.
Blackthorne
appeared to have other things on her mind as she greeted acquaintances from the heights of her private box. She was a plump little woman with skin like rose petals that had just begun to wilt. The pleasure she derived from displaying her social status was equal to, if not greater than, the pleasure she derived from Shakespeare.

“I will never understand why on earth the planning committee chose this play to present.” The older lady adjusted her silk shawl and took her opera glasses out of their Moroccan leather case.

“I think
Measure for Measure
was an interesting choice, not nearly as well-known as Shakespeare’s other comedies. It possesses some intriguing, dark elements.” Evangeline intoned ominously, “‘Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall.’”

Mrs.
Blackthorne
paused in the midst of refurbishing herself to give Evangeline a puzzled look. “That line has always been a mystery to me. I hear it quoted often enough, but what in the world is one to make of it?”

“I think it’s all about hypocrisy. Those who offer a model of public behavior are often the greatest villains at heart, while those who are publicly condemned for some act of indiscretion are often the most innocent.”

Mrs.
Blackthorne’s
attention was temporarily diverted as she nodded to a lady in an adjoining box.

Evangeline forged ahead. “I also think the line offers a warning. Those who think themselves above the reach of the law are eventually brought to justice. Those who have been wrongly condemned are, in the end, acquitted.”

Mrs.
Blackthorne
waved her lace fan distractedly. “What a moral dilemma that presents. How is one to know what is good and what is bad, if the voice of authority itself is called into question? How is one to know who can be trusted? Who can be believed?”

“That’s just my point. One never knows.”

The older lady sighed and patted her companion’s hand. “My dear, you think entirely too much.”

“So I’ve been told, Mrs.
Blackthorne
. So I’ve been told.” Evangeline sighed. “But given my present state of mind, I should have preferred to see
Titus Andronicus
instead of
Measure for Measure.
”

Mrs.
Blackthorne
turned pale at the mention of the name. “That awful tragedy! That bloodbath! Why, whatever for?”

Evangeline smiled bitterly. “Let’s just say the character of Lavinia interests me at present.”

“My dear, you shock me! A character who is ravished by two men and then has her tongue cut out and her hands hacked off so she can’t reveal the guilty parties! What sort of morbid thinking is this?”

“Mrs.
Blackthorne
, I had no idea you were so conversant in your Shakespeare, even the awful plays. Despite all the atrocities committed against her, Lavinia still manages to write the names of the guilty men in the sand, holding a stick between the stumps that were once her hands. One can’t help but admire such grim tenacity of purpose.”

By this time, Mrs.
Blackthorne’s
complexion had taken on a faint greenish tinge. “Really, my dear, you must stop. You’re making me quite ill with your description.”

“I am sorry, Mrs.
Blackthorne
. I truly am, but such things happen in the world.”

“Such things happen only in fiction! I can’t imagine encountering in my own life such a devilish business or people capable of such brutality.”

“Oh,
madame
... ,” Evangeline’s tone was grave, “you must have a care and look about you more closely. You may know someone quite well who is capable of it.”

Mrs.
Blackthorne
shivered slightly. “The thought is preposterous. Such people do not...
can not
exist! Let us speak no more about it.”

Evangeline complied and gave up the topic.

The two women lapsed into silence as they surveyed the new arrivals entering at the back of the theater. Mrs.
Blackthorne
edged forward in her seat to see over the railing. “Oh, look my dear. It’s Mr. and Mrs. Fenton just walking in. Did you know that he has just purchased one of those horrible horseless carriages?”

“Indeed, I didn't. I had no idea he was that progressive.”

“Progressive? Progressive, you say?” Mrs.
Blackthorne
seemed astonished. “He has frightened the entire town half out of its wits with that foul-smelling, noisy contraption. And that just accounts for the general population, not to mention how it’s upset the horses.”

“Really?” Evangeline leaned farther over the railing for a better look at the malefactor. “It’s hard to believe that one motor car could cause all that commotion.”

“But it has, my dear, it has.” Mrs.
Blackthorne
placed her hand solemnly on Evangeline’s arm. “It became such a crisis that we had to organize a committee!”

“You did what?”

“We organized a ladies’ committee for the public welfare and went to call on Mrs. Fenton.”

“On Mrs. Fenton?” Evangeline failed to grasp the connection. “Not Mr. Fenton?”

“Well, we thought it would be more tactful if we appealed to her first. The committee went all around
Lake
Arbor
and got up a petition. Two hundred signatures. An overwhelming response! And we presented it to Mrs. Fenton.”

Evangeline was having a difficult time forcing her features to assume the solemn look that the subject required. “And what were you petitioning for?”

“Nothing unreasonable. We merely wanted advance notice for those days when Mr. Fenton was planning on driving his mechanical horse around town.”

“Advance notice, how?”

Mrs.
Blackthorne
looked exasperated at her companion’s dullness of wit. “We requested that Mrs. Fenton fly a black flag on those days so that the whole town could be alerted to keep clear. I mean, think of the consequences otherwise. Careening down the street at twenty miles an hour! Have you ever heard the like? Twenty miles an hour! This is a great danger to us all, and we deserve appropriate warning. Considering the gravity of the situation, Mr. Fenton should have been relieved we asked no more of him than that!”

“And was he relieved?” Evangeline could guess the reply.

“He certainly was not! And he was most uncivil in his response, too! He happened to walk into the drawing room while we were in conference with his wife. After she handed him the petition, he tore it up and said he would...he would...” Mrs.
Blackthorne
fanned herself vigorously at the thought of what her lips were about to utter. Steeling herself, she continued. “He said he would drive his motor car around town whenever he deuced well pleased, and we could make of it what we liked! And 'deuced' wasn't the exact word he used!”

Evangeline snapped her own fan open quickly to cover the lower half of her face. By this time she was shaking with suppressed laughter. Luckily, before her convulsions became obvious, the electric lights began to flicker as a signal the performance was about to start. She closed her eyes in relief when Duke
Vincentio
and his attendants walked on stage.

***

When the house lights rose again for intermission, a few of the august dames of
Lake
Arbor
walked around to pay a visit to Mrs.
Blackthorne
. The topic of conversation continued to be the recalcitrant Mr. Fenton and his infernal machine. While the controversy over what to do next raged behind her, Evangeline glanced absently across the theater to the boxes on the other side. To her amazement, she saw Freddie, looking quite the martyr, surrounded by his own brigade of female relatives. He must have seen Evangeline at the same moment she spied him, because he broke into a relieved grin and motioned with his head that he was coming around to see her.

To avoid having their conversation overheard, Evangeline decided to meet him in the hall. She stood waiting, tapping her foot impatiently until he arrived, even though Freddie managed to squeeze his way through the crowd in record time. Without a word, he took Evangeline by the elbow and steered her away from the box-seat doors, toward the stairwell.

“I had no idea you’d be here!” she exclaimed.

“I called the townhouse only to be told you were out. When I got home, I was presented with an ultimatum. Either attend this, or a church bazaar on Saturday afternoon, and you know how I hate those.” Freddie rolled his eyes.

Evangeline smiled in mock sympathy. “Poor
Frederick
. What a sad life you lead.”

“Oh, stop it,
Engie
! We don’t have much time and I have such news!” Pulling her farther down the stairs so they wouldn’t be seen, Freddie launched into an extended narrative of his investigation that afternoon—playing up his own ingenuity and perseverance.

“So Sidley, or
Kingston
, or whoever he is, was lying all along.”

“He must have something to hide. But what?”

“Unfortunately, we don’t know just yet.” Evangeline scowled and concentrated. “It’s a disturbing coincidence that he and Jonathan left
Dresden
together over three years ago. Three years! Why come together again now?”

“Yes, I was wondering the same thing. We can be fairly certain that they left at close to the same time for a reason. But if they were both implicated in something sordid, why didn’t
Blackthorne
conceal his identity as well?”

Evangeline pondered Freddie’s question. “Maybe because Jonathan wasn’t implicated in the crime, whatever it was. Maybe he discovered it.”

“And perhaps he’s been blackmailing Sidley with that discovery ever since.”

“Yes, but Sidley isn’t a rich man now and probably never was.”

“Maybe... ,” Freddie suggested, “maybe the payment
Blackthorne’s
exacting isn’t in currency.”

“You mean Jonathan is using Sidley to perform a service for him, such as arranging the meeting at the Fair with Elsa?”

“Yes, something like that.”

Evangeline stared off into space. “But why wait three years to call in a debt? Especially for a girl that he’d never even seen before. Unless...”

“Listen,
Engie
, we can’t stay here much longer. They’ll be starting again any minute. Now isn’t the time to get all dreamy-eyed and obscure.”

Evangeline barely heard him. Her attention was focused on the idea forming in her mind. “What if this wasn’t the first time! What if they’ve been doing this all along and this is the first time they got caught at it!”

“My God! If that’s true, it’s almost too horrible to consider. The cold-blooded calculation of it. It’s... it’s... ,” Freddie struggled to find an adjective strong enough to describe such a level of depravity. “It’s beastly... it’s beyond beastly! It’s monstrous!”

“Steady on, young Frederick.” Evangeline tried to pull him away from the image she had provoked. “We don’t know that for certain yet. But I know a way we can find out.”

“How?” The echo of fewer and fewer voices on the steps above signaled that intermission was nearly over.

From above stairs, Evangeline could hear the door of Mrs.
Blackthorne’s
box open and her own name being called. “We know Sidley’s been at Mast House for three years, so I’m going to find out if any girls have gone missing during that time.” Almost as an afterthought, she said hurriedly, “Oh, yes, and it’s clear you must go to
Iowa
.”

Freddie, who had been nodding in agreement up to that point, balked like a mule being led to harness. “What do you mean I have to go to
Iowa
? Why can’t I just send a telegram? How in God’s name am I going to explain a little junket like that to Uncle Horace?”

As ushers began the final call for patrons to return to their seats, Evangeline patted him reassuringly on the cheek. “I have every confidence in you, dear boy. Use some of that new-found ingenuity you just bragged about to me. It’s imperative that you see this Harcourt
Smythe
in person. A written reply can conceal too much. I really must go.” With that, she ran up the stairs to rejoin Mrs.
Blackthorne
, leaving Freddie to scramble back to his seat before the theater went dark.

***

Evangeline didn’t see Freddie as the crowd swarmed out after the performance. As a gesture of gratitude for the invitation, Evangeline had offered the use of her carriage so that Mrs.
Blackthorne
might be spared the unspeakable horrors of crude public transportation. The ride would be a short one since the older woman was staying with friends in town. When the two were settled, Mrs.
Blackthorne
said cozily, “Well, here we are.”