Escapade (9781301744510) (41 page)

Before Rory could intervene, Duffy had
dispatched Angelo on the errand.

"Duffy, I don't want to see her,” Rory said.
She was too ashamed to admit she had an almost supernatural dread
of the woman. "I can't imagine why she would come here. Shouldn't
we send for the police?"

"And miss the chance for the biggest
interview of my career? Look, I know she won't even let me get near
her, but you could help me, Miss Kavanaugh. Maybe just ask her a
few questions."

"Like what? Have you been to tea with the
Astors lately, Mrs. Van Hallsburg? Oh and by the way, did you kill
Charles Decker?"

"You'll have to be a little more subtle than
that. But I better get out of here. If she sees me, she'll turn and
stalk right out again." Duffy snatched up his derby, pausing long
enough to give Rory's shoulder a pat. "Good luck."

"Duffy!" she protested. But the door was
already closing behind him. "Damn you, Duffy!"

The man had just set her up for a chat with a
suspected murderess, then had the temerity to wish her luck. Rory
had to fight an urge to bolt out the office door. When the knock
finally came, she nearly started out of her skin. Struggling to be
calm, she ranged herself behind her desk as though that meager
barrier could afford her some protection.

"Come in," she said, fortifying herself. The
door inched open and a shadow fell across the room, a shadow that
seemed to be all rustling silk and regal posture.

Mrs. Van Hallsburg stepped over the threshold
clad in a dove-colored walking suit trimmed with black braid, her
white-gold hair swept up beneath an English felt hat adorned with a
jet pin and tiny feathers. She looked so composed, so
sophisticated, so very much the socialite, that Rory felt a little
foolish. Her fears and suspicions seemed absurd until she looked
into the woman's eyes. Hard, compassionless and colder than the
winds of winter.

A contemptuous smile curled Mrs. Van
Hallsburg's lips. "Miss Kavanaugh?"

Rory was surprised that the haughty dame even
remembered her name. "Yes?"

"I assume I may sit down?"

Rory flushed, realizing she had been gaping,
making her nervousness too apparent. She nodded, indicating a
chair. Mrs. Van Hallsburg ran one gloved finger over the wooden
seat before deigning to lower herself upon it.

She trained the full force of her regard upon
Rory, her stare steady and unnerving. Rory thought fleetingly of
Duffy, all the careful probing he wanted her to do, but the only
question thata sprang to mind was What the hell are you doing here,
lady?

After a nerve-wracking silence, she said,
"You'll have to excuse my astonishment, Mrs. Van Hallsburg.
Frankly, you are the last person I ever expected to see."

"Indeed." Mrs. Van Hallsburg slowly stripped
off her gloves. "I was put to some trouble to find you."

"I don't know why you would go to such
bother. The few times we've met at Mr. Morrison's, I had the
impression you found me beneath your notice."

"Let us merely say I didn't approve of your
friendship with John."

"What right did you have to approve or
disapprove? You have no claim on him."

"I have more of a claim than you could
possibly imagine, my dear. The bond that existed between myself and
John Morrison was something special, irrevocable, at least until
you came along."

For the flicker of an instant, the winter in
those pale blue eyes flared into a blaze of hatred. It was enough
to make Rory shrink back but Mrs. Van Hallsburg was quick to veil
the alarming expression.

"I didn't seek you out to discuss John. I
came here for other reasons."

Rory frowned. "I can't imagine what they
might be."

"Necessity compels me to leave New York. I
need to put distance between myself and the city quickly. In short,
I need to avail myself of your unique services, Miss
Kavanaugh."

"You mean you want me to- to-.”

"Get one of your balloons ready
immediately.

Rory stared, unable to believe the arrogance
of the woman, coming to her, of all people, and asking, no,
demanding such help. Her fear of Mrs. Van Hallsburg was lost in a
rush of indignation.

"Are the police after you?" Rory asked
bluntly.

"Not yet, to my knowledge. That hardly
concerns you."

"The hell it doesn't. I'm running a balloon
company, not an escape service for fugitives."

"Yet you aided John Morrison in his flight
from the law. I see no reason you cannot accomplish the same for
me."

No reason at all except that Rory would have
aided Jack the Ripper to escape before she would have lifted one
finger to help Mrs. Van Hallsburg.

She pushed abruptly to her feet. "I am
sorry,.but you came to the wrong place."

"I don't think so." Mrs. Van Hallsburg tugged
loose the drawstrings of her beaded purse.

Rory regarded her with scorn. "You may as
well put your purse away, Mrs. Van Hallsburg. There isn't any
amount you could pay that would induce me to help you."

"Oh, it isn't money that I mean to offer you,
my dear" With a thin smile, Mrs. Van Hallsburg drew forth a small
revolver and aimed it straight at Rory's heart.

Something was wrong. Duffy shifted uneasily,
watching from the shadow of the stairs the sudden flurry of
activity in the warehouse as the two lads hustled to ready one of
those mammoth balloons for launching from the dock. Rory's
interview with Mrs. Van Hallsburg seemed to have stretched out to
an interminable length. Duffy might have rejoiced, hoping that Miss
Kavanaugh possessed a good enough memory to recall all that was
being said. But his satisfaction was marred by that disturbing
moment when both women had appeared on the upper landing,

Duffy had kept out of sight while Rory
shouted down the terse command. "Prepare the Seamus. I'm taking it
up."

When the boy named Angelo had sought to
question this order, Miss Kavanaugh had nearly took his head off
before vanishing back into the office with Mrs. Van Hallsburg.

Duffy's own confusion was apparent in the two
young men, hard at work, hooking up some kind of generator thing to
the gas bag of the balloon.

"Geez, what's the matter with Rory, Pete?"
Angelo was saying. "First she tells us to get a move on with the
packing, now she insists she wants the balloon ready."

"I dunno," Pete replied. "I wish Tony would
get back here. Rory always explains things to him."

"Not lately. Rory hasn't been right in the
head since she fell in love with that Morrison," Angelo grumbled.
"She doesn't even remember she dropped the Seamus into the ocean,
that the only balloon left fit for travel is the Katie Moira."

Pete's face lit up with sudden inspiration.
"Hey, maybe that rich woman up there is giving her some kind of
commission. Maybe we won't have to move after all."

"I guess that must be it."

The boys appeared satisfied enough that they
worked more swiftly. Only Duffy remained uneasy. Maybe he shouldn't
have left Rory alone with that woman. Maybe he ought to burst up
there and see what was going on. But if Rory was learning anything
from Mrs. Van Hallsburg., his appearance would ruin everything.

Yet what would Rory want her balloon for all
of a sudden? Duffy didn't believe for a moment Pete's naive
suggestion that the Van Hallsburg woman wanted to hire one of the
contraptions.

Yet who could guess what might be running
through the lady's mind? Mrs. Van Hallsburg must be under a
tremendous amount of pressure owing to his investigations. Duffy
had seen people do some really crazy things when their world
threatened to crumble apart, even ones as ice-blooded as Mrs. Van
H.

His nervousness mounting, Duffy inched toward
the stairs just as the warehouse door creaked. He hoped it was that
Tony kid returning. A little older, he appeared to have more sense
than those other two boys. As the door opened to reveal a pair of
broad shoulders, Duffy experienced a feeling of relief. Better than
the Tony kid, it was Morrison.

Zeke didn't enter with his usual arrogant
stride, but lingered on the threshold, as though unsure of himself,
expecting to be tossed out on his ear. His clothes were so rumpled
he looked as though he had spent the past few hours being steam
pressed in hell. But that was nothing compared to the haggard
expression on his face, the craters beneath his eyes, the clear
signs of a man who had been on an all-night binge.

"Mother o' God, Morrison," Duffy called out.
"What have you been doing to yourself? I've seen week-old corpses
in better shape."

As he came forward, Zeke merely regarded him
with a dull stare, not even barking out his usual demand to know
what Duffy was up to. "Where's Miss Kavanaugh?"

"Upstairs," Duffy said with an upward motion
of his thumb. "I'm glad you're here. Something funny's going on.
Look, she's getting one of those balloons ready and—"

"Damnation!" Zeke strode to glance through
the open doors of the warehouse, back toward the dock, where a
familiar loud hiss rattled the windows. The sight of the balloon
straining skyward brought a spark back into Zeke's listless
eyes.

"You don't even know the half," Duffy said.
"That friend of yours, Mrs. Van Hallsburg, is upstairs with Miss
Kavanaugh, and I can't begin to imagine what the devil-."

"Mrs. Van H.! Up there with Rory?"

Duffy scowled with impatience. Wouldn't the
man ever let him finish his sentences? Apparently not, for Zeke
shoved Duffy out of the way, his jaw hardening, as he started to
rush up the steps.

But it was not necessary. Rory was already on
her way down, Mrs. Van Hallsburg a step behind, but not far enough
that Rory couldn't feel the muzzle of the gun jammed up against her
ribs, the weapon concealed by the folds of her dress.

She had been stalling as long as she could,
seeking a way to flee or overpower the woman. But it had been
impossible as Mrs. Van H. never kept her gun more than a hair's
breadth from Rory's side. One false move and Rory knew she was
dead.

As she descended the stairs, she forced
herself to remain calm, to exhibit a bravado she wasn't feeling.
Just wait until she got Mrs. Van H. up in her balloon, she
reassured herself. The sky was her domain, the balloon's mysteries
hers to control.

Intent upon her thoughts, Rory was halfway
down before she realized a man was storming up the risers. Zeke's
appearance was so unexpected, tt was all she could do not to fling
herself into his arms with a cry of relief and joy.

But close behind her she heard Mrs. Van
Hallsburg's sharp intake of breath, then the threat. "One move, one
plea for help, and I'll shoot him directly between the eyes."

Would she? Despite Mrs. Van Hallsburg's icy
facade, Rory sensed the woman was mad enough to do so. Rory shrank
back from Zeke's approach, calling out. "Zeke. Damn you. Get out of
here."

He frowned, but kept coming. "Rory, what in
blazes is going on?”

"None of your business," she said
desperately. "Just go away."

"I've engaged Miss Kavanaugh's services,"
Mrs. Van Hallsburg said. "We're going on a journey together."

"What! The hell you are," Zeke snarled. As he
took another step, Rory felt Mrs. Van Hallsburg tense.

"Stay away," Ray cried. "I mean it, Zeke.
Don't you dare to touch me."

The vehemence of her command brought him up
short.

"I told you before I didn't want to see you
anymore. Now you and Duffy just get out of here before I have you
thrown out."

She tried to telegraph a far different
message to Zeke with her eyes. She wasn't sure he understood, but
after exchanging a glance with Duffy, he backed off enough to allow
Rory and Mrs. Van Hallsburg to proceed down the steps.

Rory had an impulse to shout out a warning
and run, but Mrs. Van Hallsburg's grip on her arm was too firm, her
gun hand never wavering.

"How very touching that you came to bid me
farewell, John," Mrs. Van Hallsburg sneered. "But it seems the
least a boy could do for his mother."

His mother? In her astonishment Rory nearly
forgot herself and jerked away. How crazed was this woman to say
such strange things?

Not crazed enough, Rory realized, a dull ache
lodging in her heart, compounded of horror and empathy for Zeke.
She could see the truth of the woman's bizarre words upon Zeke's
face, shame mingled with loathing. Duffy's eyes fairly popped from
his head as Mrs. Van Hallsburg continued to taunt Zeke.

"You are my son. I hope you never forget
that." There was a deliberate cruelty in her voice as though she
couldn't resist taunting him one last time.

"Maybe I won't, but I'm sure as hell going to
try," Zeke said. He watched as Mrs. Van Hallsburg tugged Rory
toward the balloon.

"Damn it, Morrison," Duffy said. "Aren't you
going to do anything? Let's grab that witch and—"

"You fool." Zeke grabbed Duffy by the
coattails to halt his impulsive rush forward. He whispered harshly,
"Can't you tell she has a gun jammed against Rory's side?"

"Then what are we going to do? We can't just
let Rory go off with her. That woman's crazy."

Duffy didn't need to tell him that. But Zeke
stood frozen,

beset by the sensation of helplessness that
had surged through him from that minute upon the stairs when he
first realized the desperate peril Rory was in. What the hell could
he do? There was no way to wrench Rory out of Mrs. Van Hallsburg's
grasp without Rory being hurt or worse.

All he could do was follow, clinging to the
hope that there would be one moment when Mrs. Van H. would be
distracted, lose her grasp upon Rory—one split second when he would
be able to act.

Yet it was as though Mrs. Van Hallsburg
sensed the direction of his thoughts, for she didn't allow her
concentration to waver for an instant, not even as she and Rory
clambered into the gondola. Rory's assistants were too caught up in
the launch of the balloon to notice anything amiss.