Anything But Civil (10 page)

B
ut Captain Starrett didn’t return momentarily. In fact, he hadn’t returned by the time the first dessert course, Mrs. Monday’s chocolate truffle cookies, was served.

Where is he?
I wondered. Why hadn’t he returned, even to excuse himself to his guests? And what role did Mr. Mott play in Captain Starrett’s absence? By the look on Adella’s face, I wasn’t the only one wondering where her father had gone. It’d been hours and the conversation had begun to lull. Several guests, who were animated and full of conversation at the beginning of the night, seemed to grow weary. I didn’t know if it was due to the late hour or the heaviness of the food or both, but I too was feeling the effects. In fact, the confection I’d looked forward to seemed to turn my stomach. I refused the fruit and cheese courses and longed only for my bed. But when Adella signaled that we would all retire to the parlor, I knew it would be considered rude if I didn’t stay at least a while longer. My feelings were reflected in the countenance of Priscilla Triggs, and Mrs. Kaplan snored quietly in the corner armchair, but to my surprise most of the gentleman too seemed to let somnolence overtake them. Sir Arthur, on the other hand, who was used to long dinner parties and rarely went to bed before two in the morning, was in high spirits and entertained some of the ladies with his story of meeting the Queen.

At one point I heard Adella Reynard exclaim, “I’d love to see England, Sir Arthur!”

“Why, with all your travel books, I’m surprised to hear you’ve never been there, Mrs. Reynard.”

“I’ve never been anywhere but Chicago,” Adella confessed, eliciting a round of laughter. I don’t think she was joking.

The general too seemed himself, but I wasn’t surprised when he announced he was retiring early.

“Good night, Papa,” Adella said, kissing the old man on his forehead. “Sleep well.”

After the old man’s departure, Adella left momentarily to check on her children. As soon as she’d left the room I heard John Baines say, “What do you suppose happened to Henry Starrett? He had a visitor and then never did come back. And what was all that talk of burning down the copperhead’s house?”

“I know,” Mrs. Baines said, putting her hand to her throat. “I’ve never been so insulted by a host in my life. He barely addressed me and then disappeared. His behavior was inexcusable.”

“He addressed you with compliments and flattery, my dear,” her husband said. “What more do you want, his undivided attention?” He laughed halfheartedly and his eye twitched again.

“Oh, John,” Mrs. Baines said, dismissing her husband’s comment with a flip of her head and a wave of her hand. John Baines furrowed his brow. His retort was stifled by Adella’s cheerful return.

I engaged Frederick Reynard in conversation on the topic of exotic plants. He became animated, his breath fast and shallow.

“Where is your greenhouse, Mr. Reynard?”

Although I hadn’t gone on the G.A.R. home tour, I had made a point of walking by the late Dr. Kittoe’s home before my hike this morning. I’d learned from Sir Arthur’s research that Dr. Kittoe had been an avid gardener and greenhouse plant grower, so I suffered a twinge of sadness and disappointment that Mrs. Kittoe, the Civil War surgeon’s widow, now left the structure empty. Remembering this emboldened me to ask Frederick Reynard about his obviously prospering greenhouse in hopes of getting a tour.

“It’s attached to the carriage house. Adella didn’t want me tracking dirt through the house.” He tilted his head slightly. “How did you know I had a greenhouse, Miss Davish?”

“I enjoy collecting plants myself and was admiring both the amaryllis on your lapel and the cut flowers in the centerpiece. I’ve been to the shops in town and only someone with a private greenhouse would have freshly cut tulips this time of the year.”

“You do have a sharp eye,” he said, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. His face was growing flush. “Yes, growing plants is my passion, Miss Davish. Right now, I’m growing tulips, gardenia, citrus, amaryllis, narcissus, carnations, azalea, hibiscus, and of course several varieties of rose. My Christmas cacti are in full bloom. Are you interested in seeing my greenhouse, Miss Davish?”

“Yes, very much so.”

“It’s settled then. I’ll speak to Sir Arthur tomorrow. I’m sure he can spare you—”

“Help! Help!” The old general’s cries of distress came from down the hall. “For pity’s sake, will somebody help!”

We all leaped from our seats and ran to see what had befallen the general. But to my surprise this small exertion caused me distress. I felt light-headed when I rose from my chair and my head was pounding by the time I reached the library. I looked to Mrs. Triggs standing next to me. Her face was flush and damp. So was that of her husband.

If I hadn’t already felt ill, the disarray before me would’ve made me swoon. I grabbed the back of the nearest chair. The library where I’d spent many hours with Sir Arthur and the general had been completely ransacked. The desk drawers were open, books were overturned, and papers were strewn about the room. Fragments of red glass, sparkling in the gaslight, lay scattered across the floor. One of the lantern-shaped cigar lighters had been smashed to pieces. It would take hours to bring the room back to order. And then I saw it: the safe, a small, steel box with a brass plate that read:
Fire and Thief Resist
; the door was open and it was empty.

“Papa!” Adella cried, running to her grandfather as everyone else slowly filtered into the room. “Are you all right?”

“What happened?” Frederick Reynard asked.

“We’ve been robbed!” the general declared. “And whoever did it attacked Henry.” He pointed behind the settee. We hadn’t noticed Henry lying there before. Of the large man all I could see was a hint of his black dress jacket and his feet sticking out beyond the sofa.

Adella screamed and fainted into her husband’s arms. Under her unexpected weight Frederick lost his balance, and they both collapsed onto the settee.

“My God!” John Baines said, his eye twitching incessantly, as his wife bolted to the prone figure’s side.

“Is he dead?” Morgan Triggs asked.

“Luckily, no,” Rachel Baines said as a matter of fact, her nurse’s training evident. “He’s unconscious and his pulse is racing, but he’s alive.”

“Call a doctor,” Sir Arthur said to Mrs. Becker, the housekeeper, hovering outside the library door. She lifted her skirts and ran.

“This is outrageous,” John Baines said, his words slightly slurred. “Who could’ve done this?”

“That copperhead Henry’s been antagonizing, Enoch Jamison, comes to mind,” Mrs. Holbrook said. Several heads nodded.

Sir Arthur walked over and inspected the safe. “What was in here, General?”

“Money, stock, bonds.” The general held an unlit cigar. His hand was shaking.

“Can you tell if anything else is missing?” Sir Arthur said.

“No, I’ll have to go through it all to know,” General Starrett said.

“When could this have happened?” Mrs. Powers said.

“It must’ve been while we were all at dinner,” Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook said, he too growing red in the face.

“Now we know why Captain Starrett didn’t return to the dining room,” Mrs. Baines said.

“Yes, while we dined and laughed, Henry was lying here fighting for his life,” Mrs. Kaplan said, seeming to approve of the gasps her comment elicited.

“I read in the
Gazette
about a string of burglaries of late,” Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook said, wiping a handkerchief across his brow.

“Yes, I have too,” Sir Arthur said. “But those were all businesses and no one had been hurt.”

“Maybe the culprit is branching out,” Mrs. Kaplan said, “and burglarizing people in their homes. Henry must’ve surprised the thief, who then attacked him.”

“Then none of us is safe,” Mrs. Baines said.

“Oh, dear, what about the children?” Mrs. Triggs asked.

“They’re fine. They’ve been in the nursery since eight o’clock,” Adella said, waking from her stupor. “But what about Father?”

“The doctor is coming,” Frederick said. “Then we’ll know if he’ll live.”

“Freddie!” Adella admonished.

“Sorry, darling, but we don’t know what happened to him. I’m being realistic.”

“You’re the nurse, Mrs. Baines. Do think Henry is in mortal danger?” Mrs. Holbrook said. Then noticing the pallor of her husband’s face, she added, “Are you feeling ill, Issac, dear?”

“I’m fine,” he said, wiping his sweating brow with his handkerchief again. He didn’t look fine and his breathing was becoming labored. “But I think it prudent that we—” He swayed on his feet and grabbed hold of his wife’s shoulder for balance.

“Yes, yes,” Adella said, “maybe you should retire for the evening, Colonel Holbrook.”

Sir Arthur glanced around the room. I counted no fewer than four other people, Frederick Reynard, Lieutenant and Mrs. Triggs, and Mr. Baines, who had the same clammy complexions as Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook. Why was Sir Arthur looking like that at me?

“Considering the circumstances,” he said, “I think that it would be wise for us all to retire, Mrs. Reynard.”

“But what about the burglar?” Mrs. Baines said, her hand going straight to the brooch at her neckline. “He could still be lurking around outside waiting to steal my jewels or accost my person.”

“I’m sure the culprit is long gone, Mrs. Baines, and you and your jewels are safe,” Sir Arthur said without a hint of sarcasm. “Maybe you could stay until the doctor arrives?”

“Yes, of course.” Mrs. Baines squared her shoulders and nodded and without hesitation began issuing instructions to the maid.

“Thank you for a memorable evening.” Sir Arthur bowed to Mrs. Reynard. “Sir,” he said, shaking Frederick Reynard’s hand.

“But shouldn’t the police be called in?” Mrs. Powers said. “Valuables have been stolen and a man has been assaulted.”

“No, no,” General Starrett said. “No need for the police just yet.”

“I agree with Mrs. Powers, Cornelius,” Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook said, his words coming out in spurts. He was relying on his wife completely now. “For goodness’ sake, man, your son was attacked.” General Starrett stared down at his son, shaking his head.

“No, not yet.”

“Leave everything as you found it, General,” Sir Arthur said, “and I will come over first thing tomorrow morning and assist you in evaluating your loss. Hopefully Henry will be up by then and able to tell us what happened.”

“That’s most kind of you,” the general said. It was kind of Sir Arthur and uncharacteristic. This was definitely the type of job he would normally assign to me. Why hadn’t he mentioned my name?

“We’ll see ourselves out,” Sir Arthur said.

“Of course. Thank you, Sir Arthur,” Adella said. Only Sir Arthur could dismiss the host and hostess in their own home without repercussions.

As Ambrose helped us on with our cloaks, I heard Priscilla Triggs say, “You don’t suppose the visitor robbed the general, do you?”

“He was the only stranger that we know of who was in the house,” Sir Arthur said.

“You don’t think someone at the dinner party did it, do you, sir?” I asked quietly. “Several guests excused themselves during dinner.”

“You’re too astute for your own good, Hattie,” Sir Arthur said under his breath. “Let’s keep quiet for now, shall we?” I looked around to see if anyone had heard me, but the others were distracted.

“Well, at least we know why Henry didn’t come back. I thought he’d vanished to the North Pole,” John Baines was saying, chuckling pathetically. His face was beet red.

“I thought I was the only one to notice how much he looked like Santa Claus,” Lieutenant Triggs said.

“It’s uncanny,” Mrs. Holbrook said, helping her husband on with his coat.

“I noticed that too,” I said.

“That’s enough, Hattie,” Mrs. Baines said as she directed a maid carrying a stack of towels toward the library. “Captain Starrett is a distinguished gentleman and doesn’t look anything like Santa Claus.” I didn’t understand Mrs. Baines. A few minutes ago she complained about Captain Starrett’s rude behavior. Now she was defending him. She turned back to her husband. “What’s wrong with you, John? You’re slouching. Here, let me put your coat on. John? John?” Then she shrieked, “Jack!” as that gentleman crumbled to the floor.

“Oh my, another one,” Mrs. Kaplan said, licking her lips and craning her neck for a better view. “Is he dead?”

“Where is that doctor?” Rachel Baines yelled, unbuttoning her husband’s vest and loosening his bow tie. From the rise and fall of his chest, he was still breathing.

“What going on?” Frederick Reynard, who had retired, stumbled down the stairs.

“Now what’s wrong?” General Starrett hobbled out of the library, into the hallway.

“I’m afraid some of your guests may have taken ill,” Sir Arthur said with his usual calm.

“But how?” General Starrett asked as a sudden violent wave of nausea swept over me. I slipped to my knees. Someone called my name, but I ignored them. I desired nothing more than to put my inflamed cheek against the cool parquet floor. “My God, what’s wrong with them?” General Starrett demanded.

“Can’t you see?” Rachel Baines said. “We’ve been poisoned!”

I studied the intricate medallion pattern of oak, cherry, and maple on the floor as beads of perspiration dripped down my temple.

“Oh my darling, Issac! Issac!” Mrs. Holbrook cried as her husband clutched his chest, struggled to catch his breath, and fell to the floor like a toppled tree. “Help him! Help him! Somebody help him!” the poor woman shrieked as she grabbed Sir Arthur’s arm.

I flinched as the lieutenant colonel’s head landed inches from my face, his wild white hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes and mouth frozen open in shock, staring at me. I wanted to look away, desperately wishing I were anywhere else, but I couldn’t. Being this close, I could see that Lieutenant Colonel Holbrook’s eyes were two different colors; one was blue and the other hazel. I had to stare. Rachel Baines bent over Holbrook and caught my eye. She shook her head slightly. Sweat stung my eyes and I was forced to blink. The man next to me did not.