A Barricade in Hell (8 page)

He took note of the rich surroundings, doing his job and remembering the details, filing them away in case they became important later. Most of his attention went toward studying the woman seated across from him.

A slight woman with gray just beginning to frost her temples, Maddie Holmes looked more like a society matron than a housekeeper. Her yellow silk blouse was spotless and likely expensive on a domestic's salary, her ankle-length black wool skirt freshly pressed and showing no signs of hard use. A sterling chain hung round her neck, holding a single red stone that nestled in the hollow of her throat. Gabe wasn't well versed enough in gems to tell if it was a large garnet or a small ruby.

Maddie wasn't dressed like any servant Gabe had ever encountered. She dressed like a rich man's mistress. He filed that information away to think about later.

For once Jack wasn't scribbling notes in his moleskin. Instead, he sat next to Maddie and took her hand, his voice gentle and kind. That was another skill his partner possessed that Gabe admired, the ability to know what a witness needed in order to talk. “Archie came into the police station today. He's in a terrible state, Maddie, and not making much sense. I'm not sure he's slept in days. Archie says he needs my help, that Amanda's disappeared and he doesn't know where to look for her. Have you heard from Amanda today? Can you tell us where she is?”

“I … I haven't seen Amanda since she left on Friday.” She stared at the embroidery abandoned on the side table next to her, as if the piece of pale linen stitched with bright silk threads held the secret of where Amanda was or how to find her. Maddie took a deep breath and looked Jack in the eye. “I knew something was wrong when Amanda didn't come home. She's gone off with Archie for a night in the past, but that—that was before he came home from Belgium. Three days without a word isn't like her.”

Gabe cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Mr. Baldwin said they went to a lecture together on Friday night. This lecture was being held at a church downtown, but he couldn't remember the name. Do you know which church?”

“I never heard her say.” Maddie yanked her hand free of Jack's grip. “But Amanda had a handbill telling the time and place. Give me a moment, the notice should still be upstairs. I'll see if I can find it.”

She ran from the room, leaving Gabe and his partner staring at each other in strained silence. Neither spoke until Maddie returned with a well-creased sheet of newsprint in hand.

“This is it.” Maddie sniffled and brushed a tear from her face. She passed the paper to Jack. “The lecture was in the social hall next to the Lutheran church on O'Farrell. Amanda told me the pastor wouldn't allow Miss Fontaine to speak inside the sanctuary. Members of the congregation voted to rent the hall out instead.”

Jack glanced over the handbill and handed it to Gabe. He read it just as quickly, noting the address, dates for more talks over the next few weeks, and the times each lecture was being held. Gabe tucked the handbill into an inside pocket. “Did Miss Poe tell you anything else about her plans on Friday?”

“They were going to supper first and then over to the church. Amanda was excited that Archie agreed to go with her to hear Miss Fontaine speak. Amanda's been trying to talk him into attending a lecture with her for weeks.”

Gabe glanced at Jack. His partner nodded, a signal to go ahead. “So this wasn't the first time Miss Poe attended one of these pacifist lectures. How often had she heard Miss Fontaine speak?”

“Three or four times a week for the last month. She's become a devoted follower of Effie Fontaine and her message. Too devoted for my comfort. Amanda often trusts the wrong people.” Maddie sat on the sofa, dragging one of the velvet cushions into her lap and hugging it to her chest. Her eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “The first talk Amanda went to was at a church hall in Oakland the week before Christmas. Miss Fontaine's message is that God doesn't want America to enter the war or fight in Europe. Amanda came home bubbling over with excitement, convinced it was God's will that she keep other men from becoming damaged the way Archie was hurt. That's all she's been able to talk about ever since.”

“You've been a huge help, Maddie. This is the number where you can reach me at the station.” Jack ripped a page out of his notebook and scribbled down the phone number for the sergeant's desk. “Call if you remember anything else or if you hear from Amanda. If I'm not in my office, someone will get the message to me. Captain Ryan and I can see ourselves out.”

She crumpled the scrap of paper in her fist. “You must think poorly of me for not calling the authorities. But Amanda's run off before, when she was angry and quarreling with her father. I keep expecting her to come home just as she always has in the past. I keep expecting her to call.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Holmes.” Gabe stood. “We'll let you know as soon as there's any news.”

He led the way across the entry hall and out the front door. The sun was sinking behind the cloud bank that covered the bay and stretched out to sea, leaching the last bit of fog-dimmed light from the sky. Transparent mist had become a solid wall of murky gray, smelling of salt and making it difficult to see the car parked at the base of the steps.

Jack stood with him on the porch, silent and brooding. Gabe fiddled with his cuffs and the collar of his coat, giving his partner a little time. They wouldn't find Amanda Poe tonight, not unless Baldwin suddenly regained his memory. The trail was cold. Any witnesses who might have seen Amanda on Friday night were scattered, likely unaware they'd seen anything of note.

Not many missing persons cases ended happily once families and loved ones called on the police for help. Gabe wasn't ready to give up on the idea of finding her alive, not yet, not until they knew more, but they needed a starting point. He'd been a cop long enough to understand that life didn't hand out happy endings often. As Jack and Sadie's friend, he wanted this case to be an exception.

Gabe wasn't in any hurry to start hunting for bodies. “Marshall Henderson, Dodd, and Baker are all on duty tonight. I want to send Marshall and Dodd out to see what they can uncover about Effie Fontaine and the people around her. It's long odds, but maybe they can find someone at the church who remembers Miss Poe and saw her that night before she disappeared. Baker's good at picking up gossip in taverns and on the docks. I'd like to know if there's any word on the street about the pacifist crowd.”

“That makes sense. It's a good place to start.” Jack peered at him. “What are you expecting to find?”

“I don't know. Maybe a zealot who believes her own message. Maybe a confidence artist after Amanda's money. I won't know until we start digging.” Tendrils of damp air crept down the back of his neck, making the hair stand on end. He told himself it was just the fog and a cold January night, not anticipation of disaster. “The housekeeper made it sound like Amanda was deeply involved in Miss Fontaine's movement. Knowing how she was involved and who she associated with might give us a place to look. I don't want to risk Miss Fontaine leaving town before we get a chance to question her.”

“And you can't bring Miss Fontaine in just because Amanda attended a few lectures, but she's the best lead we have.” Jack glanced over his shoulder at the front door and lowered his voice. “I can't help thinking that something terrible happened to Amanda after that lecture. For the life of me, Gabe, I can't imagine why she'd stay away this long without getting word to Maddie. Not unless she can't come home.”

“We don't know that.” Gabe couldn't get the specter of Baldwin's bloodstained shirt out of his head. “We don't have proof of anything yet.”

“What we do have is a probable suspect in her disappearance: Archie.” Jack scuffed the toe of his shoe on the porch. “But I can't believe Archie Baldwin would hurt her. He just doesn't have it in him.”

Maybe Archie truly was a gentle man before he went to war, but that war had changed him, changed the man he was now, today. Even Jack couldn't deny that.

But he might try, if only within himself. Gabe started down the steps. This was difficult for both of them, but more so for Jack. “If he was in his right mind, I might agree. I know he's your friend, but I can't dismiss the possibility he's responsible. If you need to excuse yourself from this case, I'll understand. I can square things with the chief too. Just say the word.”

“Not a chance, Captain Ryan, I'll stick it out. I've got a stake in this case. If something has happened to Amanda, I need to find the person responsible. Even if that person is Archie.” Jack swung open the car door and waved Gabe inside. “Besides, you need me. How many cases have you solved on your own?”

He let Jack's attempt at false bravado pass without comment. Gabe knew better than to take his partner's joke as a sign all was well and they'd go on as always. Things were far from well.

“Fine, you're in. But we treat this like any other case. No special treatment or considerations because Archie Baldwin is your friend. And the offer stays open. You can take yourself off the case at any time.” Gabe paused before ducking into the car, studying Jack's face. “Agreed?”

“Agreed.” Jack moved around the back of the car, head bowed and hands in his coat pockets, and climbed inside. He slammed the door, Edward's signal to drive away. “Once Henderson finishes digging up information on Effie Fontaine, what's our next move?”

“I want to talk to Baldwin again. Maybe his head will clear after a night in a cell and he'll remember more of what happened.” Cold from the leather seat seeped through his coat. Gabe fidgeted, hoping it would warm up soon. “But I want to visit Chinatown early tomorrow morning before questioning Archie again. Lindsey's not going to let his son-in-law's murder alone for long. He wants results. And I don't want to give him reasons to start making noises about passing Amanda Poe's disappearance off to another detective. We'll figure out a way to work both cases. We've done it before.”

“More times than I like to think about, Gabe.” Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “That doesn't mean I have to like working major cases this way.”

“Neither do I, Jack. Neither do I.” Gabe slid down in the seat, hands folded in his lap. The memory of Delia's smiling face was there as soon as he shut his eyes, a reminder. “How are you going to break the news to Sadie?”

“I don't know.” The leather seat creaked and groaned as Jack shifted his weight. “How do I tell her Amanda might be dead and that Archie may have killed her?”

“You can't pretend nothing happened. Neither of us can. Tell Sadie as gently as possible and trust her not to fall apart. Delia isn't as close to Amanda, but she needs to know too.” Gabe sighed and slid farther down in the seat, imagining delivering the news to Delia. “Then we hope like hell nothing we told our wives really happened. With luck, we'll find Amanda holed up safely with a new beau.”

Jack cleared his throat, but his voice was still rough; choked. “Have we ever been that lucky, Gabe?”

“There's a first time for everything.” Gabe burrowed deeper into his coat. He ignored the sensation of cold fingers brushing his cheek, and laid blame for the shivers rippling up his spine on the dampness in the air and the stubborn refusal of leather seats to warm beneath him. “But Amanda Poe's the one in need of luck. I'm more than happy to give her our share.”

 

CHAPTER 6

Delia

I shaded my eyes, squinting in order to peer down our deserted street and hoping to see Dora come round the corner. My mother had maintained squinting was a bad habit, one destined to etch lines around my eyes at a young age. Undoubtedly she was right, but I couldn't help myself.

Bright sun and glittering pavement conspired to blind me, consequences of the first sunny day we'd had in a week. A brisk wind blew in off the bay. Rose canes on the trellis near the porch rattled, and overgrown frost-browned grass on neighbors' lawns rippled and swayed. Thin clouds skipped across the sky. Each cold, biting gust ripped them into finer shreds of sugar frosting spread over pale blue.

This winter had been unusually cold, with frequent frosts and snow dusting the East Bay hills. I'd kept my winter coat from the three years I lived in New York for traveling, and now I was doubly glad. My normal winter attire was much too thin for standing outside, waiting on Isadora's arrival.

Dora was late. Not an unusual circumstance with her, but I worried more since she'd acquired a Pierce-Arrow roadster and drove herself everywhere. She was an attentive driver, but mishaps happened too often on city streets. Each time she was tardy, I feared the worst.

As if my worry summoned her, Isadora's sleek black car careened around the corner. She tooted the horn and raised a hand to wave, her bright smile a serious rival for the sun. Even in brisk weather she kept the top down, claiming to relish the feel of wind in her face and hair.

I suspected that what she really relished were the admiring looks she received from those who saw her pass. Hats had a tendency to fly off as she drove, so Dora had taken to wrapping her bobbed hair in long, vividly colored scarves and letting the ends trail out behind in the breeze. Lately she'd taken to wearing brown leather goggles as well, reminding me a great deal of an aviator's photograph I'd seen in the newspaper. She looked very striking and rather dramatic traveling down the street that way.

With a slight squeal of brakes, the car slid to a halt at the end of our drive. Dora leaned and unlatched the door for me. “Hurry and get in, Dee. Matters with Mrs. Allen's poltergeist have taken a nasty turn, and I promised her we'd be there before noon.”

“What happened?” Dora never tarried long at the curb. We were rounding the corner at the end of the block before I wrestled the door shut, slamming it hard to make sure the latch caught. “I spoke with her not two days ago.”