Authors: Jo Goodman
Amused, Jenny smoothed a linen napkin over her lap and poured herself a cup of tea. It was early yet. Outside, daybreak was gray. "I think I'll stay here and finish packing some things."
"You don't mind being alone?"
"It's only until you bring Joe back from Marshall House with the carriage," she reminded him. "How long can that take? Besides, the Benningtons don't know where I am. I'm not worried about Stephen showing up here in the short time you're gone. And if you're really concerned, you can always send someone around to Marshall House with a message."
"I thought of that. But besides the carriage, there are some things I want from the attic. I can get exactly what I need if I go myself."
"From the attic? What could you possibly want?"
"Hatboxes." He finished off his sweet roll, stood, and gave Jenny a sticky kiss on her cheek. "Don't pack any of your chemicals, the baths, or your paper." He shrugged into his coat. "We'll need those things here if we are going to develop the pictures quickly. The tripods, cameras, and glass plates can all go to Marshall House."
"That makes no sense. How are we going to take pictures without a camera?"
"Oh, we'll have a camera," he said, winking at her as he opened the door. "It just won't look like one."
"Unfair!" she called over her shoulder. "You are enjoying this air of mystery too much."
"I will be back in an hour or so," he said. "See if you can figure it out." He shut the door, but even in the hallway he could still hear her trying to change his mind. He laughed when a mild curse left her lips. He supposed he had himself to blame for that.
Jenny set down her cup and tossed her napkin onto the tray. It was all very good for him to be amused when he possessed the answers. She was the one in want of them. Standing, rolled back the sleeves of her blue-gray day dress and prepared to organize the darkroom. She had crossed halfway when the knock at the door stopped her. "Hah!" she called, spying Christian's key on the table by the tray. "It would serve you right if I did not allow you back in." She picked up the key, intending to dangle it in front of him, perhaps even make him give up the answer to the hatbox mystery for it. She opened the door a mere crack and peered out. "Did you forget some—"
John Todd shouldered his way into the suite. Jenny was no match for his speed or his strength. She was caught unprepared, and her scream was more of a harsh, breathy outpouring of air. She had no hope that it was heard. It was only as John Todd was laying a chloroform-soaked handkerchief across her mouth and nose that Jenny identified her assailant. Losing consciousness, she remembered these dark eyes as the same ones that had studied her from behind the grille at Amalie Chatham's parlor house.
* * *
Christian stood in front of Room 212 and patted down his pockets. "I forgot my key, Joe."
"Maybe it's open," Joe said. He dropped the strap of the large reed hamper he had been dragging behind him and reached around Christian, giving the door a nudge. "See? I thought it was ajar."
"Yes, well, it shouldn't have been." He pushed it open wider. "Jenny? I'm back. Bring in the hamper, Joe. Put it in her studio. We'll take the hatboxes out later." Christian poked his head in the bedroom. "Jenny?" The door to the bathing room was closed. He crossed the room and knocked lightly. When there was no answer, he opened it. She was not there. Neither was she in the dressing room. "Joe? Is she in the studio?"
"No, sir," Joe called back. "Not in the tent either."
Christian went back to the parlor and seconds later Joe joined him. "I don't understand. Where can she have gone?"
Joe shifted the weight of his lean, wiry frame from one foot to the other. He fiddled with the curling tip of his mustache while he waited for direction from Christian.
Christian went in the studio, looked around, and then did the same in the bedroom. "She hasn't even packed anything. That's what she stayed behind to do." He raked back his hair, thinking. His eyes went to the brass and porcelain pegs where her cloak was hanging. "She must be in the hotel somewhere. She didn't take a wrap." That relieved him. "We might as well start packing. She'll probably be here soon."
But after half an hour Jenny still did not appear. Christian sent Joe to the dining and reading rooms to see if she was there. At the same time he went to the front desk to make inquiries. They both returned to the suite without any information.
Just inside the room Joe bent and picked up a scrap of linen from the floor. He looked at it, saw the initial J embroidered on one corner, and tossed it to Christian. "This fancy bit of lace isn't mine," he said. "Belongs with Miss Holland's things. She dropped it."
Christian gave it a superficial glance before he stuffed it in his vest pocket. He opened his mouth to say something, stopped, and his brow creased. He drew out the handkerchief slowly and looked at it again, then at Joe. "Jenny's not really Jenny, remember? You heard what she said last night. She is Caroline Van Dyke. This isn't hers."
"Well, sir, it ain't mine. I don't care for lace and the perfume ain't to my liking either."
"It's pungent, isn't it?"
"Don't know from pungent, Mr. Marshall. It stinks."
Christian laughed shortly, raising the handkerchief to his nose. He inhaled, reared back, and held the handkerchief at arm's length. "It's not perfume, Joe. It's chloroform."
"Sir?"
"Chloroform. Surgeons use it to put patients to sleep."
"You're sure?"
"I smelled enough of it in the field hospitals." He put the handkerchief away again but this time in his trousers.
"What does it mean?"
"It means that Jenny's been taken." A muscle worked in his jaw. "It means someone will pay." Christian turned, found Jenny's key, and followed Joe into the hallway where he locked the door. They went to the front desk together. Using pages from the registration book, Christian quickly sketched the faces of four men. The clerk was able to identify both William and Stephen Bennington, but only because they sometimes came into the hotel for lunch or dinner. He also recognized Wilton Reilly but swore he hadn't seen the man for months. The sketch of Liam O'Shea meant nothing to him.
Discouraged, Christian thanked the man for his help, tore out the sketches and stuffed them in his pocket. He and Joe left the hotel for the carriage. With no other recourse presenting itself, they sat for several minutes, neither of them having the slightest inclination to move.
"Don't understand it, Mr. Marshall," Joe said at last. "If none of those men took her, then who did? And how did they leave with her?"
"Not through the lobby. That's clear enough. I would imagine a service staircase and the employee entrance was used. As to your other question... I have no idea who abducted Jenny, but there seems little doubt that the Benningtons are behind it."
"Is that where we're going, then? To the Benningtons?"
Christian nodded; the line of his mouth was grim. "We'll begin there," he said. "I swear if they've hurt her, I'll..." He let the rest of the threat go unspoken. Joe Means could fill in his own ending.
* * *
Christian arrived at the Bennington mansion expecting that Wilton Reilly would show him in or show him the door. Neither came to pass. Instead, upon stating his business, he was shown to the breakfast room by an anxious and thoroughly cowed housemaid who clearly wished herself elsewhere. Curious about the absence of Wilton Reilly and hopeful that the state of the young woman's nerves would serve him well, Christian invented a pretext to ask after the butler. Upon learning that Mr. Reilly had been dismissed the previous evening, Christian asked, "Has he left yet?"
"No, sir. They gave him until afternoon to remove himself."
"Good. Ask him to wait for me in my carriage." Jenny had trusted the man, and Christian thought he could do worse than trust someone who had befriended Jenny. "I have a position for him."
Eyes widening, she nodded rapidly. "Oh, yes... yes, sir!" She opened the door to the breakfast room and fled, forgetting in her excitement to announce the visitor.
Christian walked in and held up a hand, waving off the effort father and son made to rise. "Do not trouble yourselves," he said. "You will want to get to the bank early, William, so I will respect your time. Tell me where Jenny—where
Caroline
is—and I will leave."
It was Stephen who reacted. He tossed his paper aside and continued to rise. "You should leave now, Marshall." When Christian did not move, Stephen called for the butler. "Reilly! Show this man—"
Christian said calmly, "It is my understanding that he no longer works for you."
"What?"
"It was explained to me that you dismissed Mr. Reilly. Had you forgotten?"
Ruddy color exposed Stephen's embarrassment, and he took a step toward Christian. "No matter. I will show you out myself."
Christian's faint smile was not derisive but merely curious. "Show or throw?"
William Bennington's fork clattered to his plate. "Stephen, sit down," he said, annoyed. "What's this all about, Marshall?"
"I told you. I only want to know where Caroline is."
"She left you?" asked William. "Stephen seemed to think after seeing her last night that she wasn't happy. It would be in keeping with Caroline's rather peculiar character to disappear without a word."
"You know she did not leave me. Not of her own free will. It will be better all around if you explain yourself now. Make no mistake, I want Jenny returned safely."
"Jenny? Oh, yes. Stephen mentioned that was the name she was using." William poured himself a cup of tea, walked to the sideboard, and added a small measure of whiskey. His entire demeanor suggested calm indifference to Christian's presence. He returned to his chair and regarded Christian with a shuttered stare, giving nothing of his thoughts away. "My son also said that you had married her. It won't wash, you know. Even if it's true, which I seriously doubt, the marriage can be annulled. Caroline's mental state is such that she cannot be held accountable for her actions."
Christian fixed his stare on Stephen's father. William Bennington's reaction was not at all what he had expected. He was forced to consider that he might be mistaken about William's involvement in Jenny's disappearance. "We will not discuss my marriage," he said without inflection. "It has no bearing on why I am here."
"Why you've come does not matter to me," said William. His cobalt-blue eyes were hard; his sharp, aristocratic features were predatory. "In truth, you've spared me a visit to your home. I had planned to call on you today and bring Caroline back myself." He set down his cup. "I don't know what your initial interest in Caroline was, or even how your paths crossed. Frankly, I don't care. I'm telling you now that your relationship with my stepdaughter is at an end. She is fragile, Marshall, dangerously unbalanced, and I have doctors who will support what I am telling you. If she's left you, then you should consider yourself fortunate and leave the task of finding her to Stephen and me."
Christian spoke as if William words were of no account. "I want to search the house and grounds," he said. "I can do it with your permission or without it. Either way, I am going to do it. I
will
find Jenny."
Stephen looked to his father and waited to hear how the refusal would be phrased. When William was silent, even considering, Stephen prompted him. "Father?"
William shrugged. "He's obviously unbalanced as well," he said. "You can search if you like, Marshall, but I hope you won't be difficult when the police arrive."
From the open doorway Wilton Reilly spoke. "Begging your pardon, sir, but the police will not be necessary. Mr. Marshall and I are leaving now."
Christian glanced over his shoulder and saw the butler hovering in the doorway. "Please wait in the carriage, Mr. Reilly. I don't require your service just yet."
Stephen muttered something that could only be interpreted as uncomplimentary under his breath. Everyone ignored him.
Reilly spoke directly to Christian. "Miss Van Dyke is not here, sir," he said with great dignity. "More to the point, neither Mr. Bennington nor Mr. Stephen know where she is. That is the reason I was dismissed. I would not reveal her whereabouts."
For a moment Christian was hopeful, then he realized that Reilly did not know where Jenny was now either, only where she had been. "Very well." Without a word to either Bennington, he turned on his heel. "We will talk in the carriage."
William waited until Christian and Reilly had departed before he turned sharply on his son. "What in God's name was that about, Stephen? Did you tell me everything that happened last night at the lake?"
Stephen's face darkened. He held his ground. "You think I know something about Caroline's disappearance? Well, I don't. You could have saved your breath, blustering at Marshall that way. I don't know where the hell she's gone."
"You should have followed them after they left the Park."
"And leave Sylvie at Beach House? That would not do. I told you, I went to Marshall House later, and neither Christian nor Caroline were there."
"So the housekeeper said. Do you really think she would tell you?"
"I saw the carriage return to the house. The driver was alone. I couldn't have known when they left the Park that they wouldn't be returning to Marshall's home."