The Fall Of White City (Gilded Age Mysteries Book 1) (24 page)

At a loss for any other strategy, Evangeline allowed herself to be led back to more seemly amusements, but her brush with disaster ended any possibility of savoring the rest of the sights of the Fair. Mirroring her distress,
Blackthorne
didn’t press her to wait for the sun to set in order to see the Fair ablaze with its 120,000 incandescent bulbs. Instead, by four o’clock the couple made their way back to the entrance where they started and found Jack waiting to take them home.

After climbing into the carriage, they sat in silence for some time. As they neared downtown, Evangeline steeled herself for one final maneuver.

“Jonathan, your mother has hinted that you have a particular inclination toward me.”

Blackthorne
gave her a searching look and then began to smile sardonically. He took her hand between his own. “You’ve heard the same hint from my own lips. I can only attribute your statement to feminine delicacy if you’re suggesting that it required my mother’s intervention to clarify my intentions toward you,
Engie
.”

Evangeline offered no response. She merely gazed out the carriage window.

“Have you had time to consider matters since our last conversation on the subject?” He toyed with the needlepoint rosettes embroidered on her glove.

“To what specifically are you referring?”

“You are far too clever a woman to mistake my meaning. Therefore I must assume you wish to make this as difficult as possible for me.” He took a deep breath. “To be blunt, I'm referring to my proposal of marriage.”

“Oh, I see. You never actually came out and asked me, you know.”

“It didn’t occur to me that you could fail to recognize the implied question. I stand corrected. I’ll speak more plainly now,
ma
chérie
. Will you marry me?”

Evangeline closed her eyes briefly. She felt an odd sense of triumph adulterated with dread. He had taken the bait. Summoning her most gracious smile, she said, “I hadn’t expected quite so direct a statement of your intentions when I broached the topic, Jonathan.”

Blackthorne
laughed ruefully. “I see. I’m to be abused no matter what course of action I try.”

“Not exactly. I merely meant that such an important question requires serious consideration before a reply is given.” Evangeline began to fidget. “I... I don’t know what to say just now.”

Blackthorne
pressed his hands more closely around hers to quiet her restlessness. “You’ll have to say something. Believe me, it would be far kinder to hear an honest ‘no’ than more equivocation.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to bear with my equivocation a bit longer. It’s just too much to ask of me during a mid-afternoon carriage ride. As I said, this decision requires forethought.”

“How much forethought?”

“You may expect my answer a week from today. Will that do?”

“I’m afraid it will have to.”
Blackthorne
was silent for several minutes. In an unexpected move, he leaned over toward her and brushed her lips with his own. His voice was so quiet that she felt, rather than heard, his words. “
Engie
, don’t you realize how alike we are? Who else could ever match you as well?”

She turned her face away from him to look out the window. She could hardly tell him the truth—that only days before she might have agreed with him. Perhaps it was a distortion in the glass, but her vision had become unaccountably blurred.

Blackthorne
was about to speak again when the carriage stopped abruptly. They had arrived at the
Kinzie
Street
train station where he was to catch the commuter line back to
Lake
Arbor
. As he got out of the carriage, he said quietly, “Deny it if you must,
Engie
. I believe you love me, at least a little.”

He took her hand and bent down to kiss it. Evangeline allowed him to do so without remark but she found herself wondering what it was, if anything, that Jonathan
Blackthorne
really loved.

Chapter 23—Of Swan Boats And Vice

“Freddie, I’m glad you called. We can talk about your trip when you get here. I must see you today!” The voice on the other end of the line sounded urgent. “Meet me at the brownstone as soon as you can.” Then she hung up.

Freddie, valise in tow from his trip to
Iowa
, walked out of the train station to find a cab. Once he saw the congestion of the midday crowd, he decided to forgo the cab and travel on foot. When he rang the doorbell of the
Astor Street
palace that Evangeline offhandedly called the “townhouse,” she met him herself at the door. She had on her hat and coat as if she were about to leave.

“Where have you been!” She was clearly upset about something. “You called over an hour ago.”

“
Engie
, don’t be a shrew. I called less than twenty minutes ago and had to walk.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Let’s go. I have something to show you.”

Freddie opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air before he could formulate a proper question. “
Wha
...
wha
... Why? What’s wrong with right here?”

“Because I can’t think properly! So much has happened! I need some air to clear my head. I’ve had Jack pack us a picnic lunch.”

“But I’ll never get the train back to Shore Cliff in time! My mother is sure to send out a search party for me, and I’ll have to dream up some new excuse to explain where I’ve been...” Freddie rambled on for several more minutes but eventually allowed himself to be led around the back of the house where Jack sat in the driver’s seat of the carriage.

“Good day, Mister Freddie.” The coachman touched the brim of his hat in greeting.

“Same to you, Jack. Do you know where she’s dragging us to?”

“Where else but
Lincoln Park
? It’s a fine day for a drive.”

“You’re in much better humor about it than I am.” Freddie remained surly. “I still don’t see why we can’t talk right here and now!” Evangeline poked his arm as an indication to help her into the carriage. He complied grudgingly and they were off.

Jack was able to move the horses up
Lake Shore Drive
at a steady trot, and they reached their destination just as the sun touched the top branches of the trees along the western boundary of the park. The two alighted and walked across the broad expanse of green lawn toward the lagoon. Evangeline maintained a taut silence until they reached the water. Because it was so late in the season, there were few people about. A knot of fishermen and a solitary cyclist were their only company. Wanting to ease Evangeline’s tension, if only with small talk, Freddie pointed to the swan-shaped gondolas that could be rented if one was inclined to paddle about the inlets. Most of them had been removed from the water in anticipation of winter, which might claim
Chicago
any day.

“You’ll never believe the story Bill told me about those boats.”

“What?” Evangeline apparently had decided to humor him.

“Well, it seems the City Council wanted to subsidize the cost of six more of them for the park. An alderman, who shall remain nameless for the purposes of this conversation, in a burst of civic duty felt it was an unnecessary waste of taxpayers’ money. I was told he said, ‘Why not purchase two swan boats and just let nature take its course.’”

Evangeline burst out laughing and shook her head. “I’m surprised that there weren’t at least ten other men on the council ready to second his motion.”

“Oh twenty, at least.” Freddie chuckled. “That one will never make the papers, so I tell you knowing I can rely on your discretion...”

“... to repeat it at every social gathering I attend for the rest of the season.”

“I knew I could depend on you. Now let’s get down to business. Just wait till I tell you what I discovered in
Iowa
!”

“A great deal of corn, I should think.” Evangeline looked about her distractedly. “Wait, let’s get one of those.” She gestured toward the small rowboats still anchored in the lagoon. A rheumatic attendant in a derby sat on duty lest anyone try to make off with any of his charges.

“Now?” Freddie was aghast.

“Now, Freddie. We’ll have more privacy that way.” Evangeline stood firm.

Her companion sighed and walked over to the old man. “How much?”

The man pointed laconically to the sign behind him that indicated rates and rental times. “I’m sorry to ask so late in the season.” Freddie dug into his pocket for the requisite amount. “But the lady—,” gesturing with his head toward Evangeline who stood farther back by the water, “has taken an odd notion that she’d like to go boating.”

The old man looked from Freddie to Evangeline and back again. “If I was you, son, I’d be grateful of the opportunity and wouldn’t question how I came by it.” He took a long puff on his cigar. “Take as long as you like. Just bring the boat up on the grass when you’re done. I’m on my lunch break.” With that the old man picked up his stool and placard, and retreated to some secret recess of his own for a surreptitious nap.

“Well, come on then,” Freddie called to Evangeline. She had become intrigued with the collection of waterfowl circling the shore in search of food. Seeing that Freddie had secured a boat for them to use, she marched up to it, climbed in, and waited for the young man to push off.

When he had rowed to the center of the lagoon, Evangeline finally spoke. “All right. Now tell me all the news from the wilds of
Iowa
.”

Freddie launched into his story with far more eagerness than he had launched their vessel. He told her about his interview with the illustrious Mr.
Smythe
who had been promoted to president of the bank, and a far more useful interview with a banker named Jeremiah Sidley.

Evangeline registered astonishment. “You mean our Jacob Kingston had the nerve to use the last name of someone he knew back in Dodgeville as his alias?”

“Not just someone he knew, someone who hates his guts. Mr. Jeremiah Sidley discovered that our friend had been embezzling funds. When Jeremiah told Harcourt
Smythe
about it, he was ordered to keep his mouth shut or lose his job.
Kingston
was allowed to get away scot free.”

“You mean Vice President
Smythe
wanted to cover up the matter?”

“Exactly.
Smythe
stood in a fair way of being appointed president at that time, and the last thing he wanted was a run on the bank by panicked farmers.”

“Does your Mr. Jeremiah Sidley have proof of fraud?” Evangeline asked doubtfully.

Freddie beamed. “He kept the ledger sheets showing the discrepancies. His grudge is personal since he lost some of his own money through
Kingston
’s scheme. When I told him the alias
Kingston
was using in
Chicago
, he offered to come here and horsewhip him personally.”

Evangeline’s tense expression disappeared. A broad smile spread over her face. “Well done, Sir Frederick. Well done indeed! I can’t tell you how relieved I am. We finally have something to force Sidley to talk. At least he’ll be able to tell us what part he and Jonathan played.” She added worriedly, “We have to run the murderer to ground soon. We’re almost out of time.”

“Oh, come now,
Engie
, what are you so concerned about? Franz is in jail. O’Malley is probably still drunk.
Blackthorne
doesn’t think we’re after him. Neither does Sidley. We can take all the time we need.”

Evangeline knit her brows. “There’s the small matter of Franz’s upcoming trial, not to mention what happened this morning. I went back to the O’Malley house to arrange for Patsy’s schooling and to see what else I might pry out of Mr. O’Malley.”

“Judging from your face, things didn’t go as planned.”

“Things went quite well—up to a point. Mrs. O’Malley agreed to allow Patsy to go if I could find a school to take her and compensate the family for her loss of income.”

“Then why so serious?”

“Because, Mr. O’Malley has disappeared.”

“He what!” Freddie sat bolt upright, causing the boat to rock precariously. “How could this happen? You said he was usually too drunk to move.”

Evangeline braced her hands against the sides of the boat to steady herself. “Apparently, I underestimated his resolve.”

“Running away is a clear admission of guilt!” Freddie grabbed the oars and began to row energetically, albeit aimlessly. “We have to find him! You must have put him on his guard when you started asking questions last time.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Mrs. O’ says he does this quite frequently. She didn’t seem at all alarmed about it.”

“Maybe this time is different,” Freddie muttered darkly, churning water in every direction.

Evangeline shook off the spray from Freddie’s vigorous
oarsmanship
. “You might be right, but it’s equally possible he’s gone on a drinking binge and will return when he sobers up.”

Freddie paused in mid-stroke to stare at his friend. “You’re taking this far too calmly.” He brought the dripping oars back into the boat.

“That’s because we have something more urgent to ponder than Mr. O’Malley’s disappearance.”

Freddie raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“Do you know where I was yesterday?”

“Based on your past record, I’d guess it was a place called ‘out.’”

“I was at the
White
City—”

Freddie cut in, “A fine time for you to go on holiday when we’re trying to hunt down a murderer.”

“With Jonathan.” She finished the sentence and Freddie abruptly fell silent.

“That wasn’t a very smart thing to do,
Engie
. You don’t know what he’s capable of if you alarm him.”

“I had hoped to alarm him, Freddie, but instead he alarmed me.” Evangeline looked uncomfortable. She recounted her misadventure on the Ferris wheel.

Freddie felt himself grow pale with shock. “My God,
Engie
! Do you really believe it was an accident? He must have meant to kill you.”

Evangeline seemed disturbed, even in the retelling. “I can’t be sure. It might have just been a horrible bit of clumsiness on his part. But if it was an attempt to dispose of me, and it failed because too many people were watching, then he’s bound to try again. I had to find a way to keep him at bay for a while.”

“I take it we’re coming to the part where time has become of the essence?”

“Yes. On the carriage ride back, I broached the subject of marriage. With very little prompting, he came right out and popped the question.”

Freddie heaved a huge sigh. “Somehow, it doesn’t seem quite so shocking to hear it the second time around. Why did you start him off in that direction? You couldn’t have said yes?” He looked to Evangeline worriedly, imploring a denial.

“All I wanted was a stay of execution. If he really is guilty, his offer of marriage is nothing but a cat’s paw to see whether I suspect him. I could only hope to throw him off guard by promising to consider his proposal and give him an answer by a set date.”

"How much time do we have?”

“One week.”

“One week!” Freddie exclaimed loud enough to cause a gull floating nearby to flap away in alarm.

“Yes, I told him I’d give him an answer by this coming Friday.”

“I don’t know if we can come up with anything by then. All we have to go on is the fact that Sidley—that is, Kingston—embezzled money from a bank in
Iowa
and probably did the same at Dresden And Company.” Freddie now sat slumped over the oars, letting the boat drift on the placid water.

“Cheer up, my boy. That may not be quite all we have.” Evangeline related her conversation with Jane Eaves and the prospect that a former victim might still be alive.

Freddie smiled wanly. “Well, that helps a bit. What’s our next move?”

“That’s where you come in,” Evangeline replied with too much alacrity.

Freddie came to apprehensive attention and instinctively leaned backward in the boat, away from his companion. “
Engie
, you’ve got that devilish gleam in your eyes. It’s the same look that sent me bouncing all the way to Dodgeville. What fresh hell have you got in store for me now?”

Without saying a word, she dug into her coat pocket and brought out two pieces of paper. She handed them to Freddie.

“What’s this?”

“The first is a picture of Jonathan. I’m sure it’s a good enough likeness for even you to recognize.”

“How did you get it?”

“I wheedled it out of his mother on false pretenses.” She laughed wickedly.

“I can’t imagine you playing the love-struck damsel convincingly enough to make her believe you would pine away without a picture of her son.”

“It’s amazing what nonsense mothers will believe where their progeny are concerned.”

The other piece of paper contained a name and address. Freddie read it aloud: “‘Rosa
Grandinetti
, Mother Connelly’s,
480 South Clark Street
.’ I take it this is the girl who left Mast House so unexpectedly?”