Authors: John R. Maxim
Tags: #Horror, #General, #Psychological, #Suspense, #Memory, #Thrillers, #Fiction, #Time Travel
Time Out of Mind (43 page)
“
Until you begin spending the night,” she said quietly.
“
No, that would not do. You're quite right. We could
meet whenever we wished but we'd meet elsewhere. We
could meet at—Do you know what a house of assignation
is?”
”
A love nest?”
Not precisely.” Tilden had a notion that he was talking
too much but he did not seem able to help himself. “It is somewhat like this house, Georgiana's house, except there are no girls there. There are only rooms where men and
women can meet privately. There is a household staff, of course, including a butler who admits only those known to
him or those with proper letters of introduction. No
woman's name is used or even known by the staff. One
guest never sees another, and meals and even baths can be
taken in private quarters. Such places are much more com
fortable than hotels, Margaret. One can relax in them and
shut out the whole world.”
“
It's gladdening,” she said dryly, “that you are so ex
perienced in these matters.”
It's gladdening,” she said dryly, “that you are so ex
perienced in these matters.”
“
Oh! Oh no.” He knelt at her side. “Georgiana told me
about them. I had no idea. I mean, I knew men went to
places like this but it never occurred to me that there might be places where women went. The fact that houses of as
signation exist came as a shock to me. If they exist they
must have clients. If they have clients”—he smiled—”a
great many respectable women in New York must be a
good deal less respectable than I imagined.”
Oh! Oh no.” He knelt at her side. “Georgiana told me
about them. I had no idea. I mean, I knew men went to
places like this but it never occurred to me that there might be places where women went. The fact that houses of as
signation exist came as a shock to me. If they exist they
must have clients. If they have clients”—he smiled—”a
great many respectable women in New York must be a
good deal less respectable than I imagined.”
Margaret rose to her feet and paced thoughtfully to the
foot of the bed, where she stopped and steadied herself on
one of the canopy posts. “So many lies, Tilden,” she said
at last. “It is so much more simple, more honest, when you
come to visit me here.”
foot of the bed, where she stopped and steadied herself on
one of the canopy posts. “So many lies, Tilden,” she said
at last. “It is so much more simple, more honest, when you
come to visit me here.”
“
But it is a brothel, Margaret. I cannot have you in a
brothel.”
But it is a brothel, Margaret. I cannot have you in a
brothel.”
“
Perhaps ...” She chewed her lip. “Perhaps because of
what it is, I expect less from you here, Tilden. Here it is natural for men to come and go according to the demands
upon their time. And in between your visits I have the com
pany of Georgiana and Annie and the other girls. Being
your mistress sounds so terribly lonely.”
“
Little Annie is leaving, by the way. Georgiana told
me.”
“
Oh?”
“
Georgiana says Annie has saved enough to start a new life. You can be sure she won't call herself Little Annie
anymore either.”
“
I'm so selfish. I should be glad for her.”
“
Eureka!” Tilden shouted. He jumped to his feet and
took Margaret in his arms. “You want it simple? It
is
sim
ple. I've been a fool.”
“
What are you talking about?” Margaret shook her
head, blinking.
“
Do you not imagine that Annie, once settled in her new
life, will soon attract a male admirer or two?”
“
More than likely.” She nodded.
“
That's it, then. Your problem is solved.”
“
Tilden, might I have some small clue to what you're thinking?”
“
You, dear Margaret, are retiring. Exactly like Annie,
you are taking your ill-gotten gains, changing your name,
and beginning a respectable new life. During your days you
will pursue whatever activities may please you. Or excite
you. You might teach piano, or open a dress shop, or continue your education. But as for the evenings, you must not
be surprised if a male admirer or two should begin turning
up at your door, flowers and bonbons in hand. He will ask
you to dinner at Delmonico's in order to turn your head.
He will ask you to walk with him, ride with him, skate with
him, and dance with him. Thoroughly smitten, he will flood
you with attention. And who knows? Perhaps one day you
might so far forget yourself as to consent to a glorious
weekend with him at some country inn.”
You, dear Margaret, are retiring. Exactly like Annie,
you are taking your ill-gotten gains, changing your name,
and beginning a respectable new life. During your days you
will pursue whatever activities may please you. Or excite
you. You might teach piano, or open a dress shop, or continue your education. But as for the evenings, you must not
be surprised if a male admirer or two should begin turning
up at your door, flowers and bonbons in hand. He will ask
you to dinner at Delmonico's in order to turn your head.
He will ask you to walk with him, ride with him, skate with
him, and dance with him. Thoroughly smitten, he will flood
you with attention. And who knows? Perhaps one day you
might so far forget yourself as to consent to a glorious
weekend with him at some country inn.”
”
I might even let him kiss me.” She smiled.
“
That is too much to hope for.”
“
You
are
a lunatic, Tilden.”
“
Your answer, woman,” he demanded.
“
Yes, Tilden. Yes. As soon as I've saved some money.”
Tilden looked confused. “How much more could you
need?’'
”
You said that I should not sell those shares. And I have
only sixty dollars saved from my salary here. And no,
I'll
take no more money from you, Tilden.”
You said that I should not sell those shares. And I have
only sixty dollars saved from my salary here. And no,
I'll
take no more money from you, Tilden.”
“
But you have nearly a thousand dollars on account with
Georgiana.”
But you have nearly a thousand dollars on account with
Georgiana.”
head slowly, not certain that she un
derstood him. “The working girls have accounts, not I. I
get only the twenty dollars a week I'm paid in salary.”
derstood him. “The working girls have accounts, not I. I
get only the twenty dollars a week I'm paid in salary.”
“
Well”—he shrugged—“the money is there and it's
yours. It must be some sort of dividend.” Idiot, he berated himself. There was no doubt about the money. Georgiana
had quoted the figure not five minutes before he climbed
the stairs to see Margaret. She must have put off mention
ing it to her so that Margaret would not realize that he was
paying for her company and so that Margaret could per
suade herself a while longer that she had not actually begun
to sell her body. Well, it didn't matter. She was not a pros
titute. Her first night with him was a different matter en
tirely. He must be sure, however, to alert Georgiana on the
way out that questions will be asked.
Well”—he shrugged—“the money is there and it's
yours. It must be some sort of dividend.” Idiot, he berated himself. There was no doubt about the money. Georgiana
had quoted the figure not five minutes before he climbed
the stairs to see Margaret. She must have put off mention
ing it to her so that Margaret would not realize that he was
paying for her company and so that Margaret could per
suade herself a while longer that she had not actually begun
to sell her body. Well, it didn't matter. She was not a pros
titute. Her first night with him was a different matter en
tirely. He must be sure, however, to alert Georgiana on the
way out that questions will be asked.
New Rochelle, Larchmont, Mamaroneck, Rye, Port Ches
ter. The towns along Interstate 95 all ran together across Corbin's field of vision as if the ride past them had taken
only seconds. Welcome to Connecticut. Use of Radar De
tection Devices Prohibited. Buckle Up for Safety. 55 Saves
Lives. Greenwich Next Exit. Corbin, as always suddenly
felt himself being very glad about something. Before just now, he'd never actually known what it was. Now he knew a part of it. Right around the Greenwich Tolls he'd found
himself expecting that Margaret would be waiting for him.
He'd be walking up the road from the station on a hot
summer day and she'd be waiting on the porch, her hair
freshly brushed, a smile whose glow he could see a block
away, and she'd be pouring a cold lemonade to tempt him
into walking faster. As if the lemonade were needed.
ter. The towns along Interstate 95 all ran together across Corbin's field of vision as if the ride past them had taken
only seconds. Welcome to Connecticut. Use of Radar De
tection Devices Prohibited. Buckle Up for Safety. 55 Saves
Lives. Greenwich Next Exit. Corbin, as always suddenly
felt himself being very glad about something. Before just now, he'd never actually known what it was. Now he knew a part of it. Right around the Greenwich Tolls he'd found
himself expecting that Margaret would be waiting for him.
He'd be walking up the road from the station on a hot
summer day and she'd be waiting on the porch, her hair
freshly brushed, a smile whose glow he could see a block
away, and she'd be pouring a cold lemonade to tempt him
into walking faster. As if the lemonade were needed.
Anyway, Margaret would not be there. And it was not a
summer day even if this morning was just as bright. Still,
he felt good. Gwen was here and at least that was some
thing. More than something. He loved Gwen, he reminded
himself. He loved her more than any human being alive
and more than anyone he'd ever known. And yet, Margaret,
even now, still got in the way of that feeling.
summer day even if this morning was just as bright. Still,
he felt good. Gwen was here and at least that was some
thing. More than something. He loved Gwen, he reminded
himself. He loved her more than any human being alive
and more than anyone he'd ever known. And yet, Margaret,
even now, still got in the way of that feeling.
“
Which way after I get off, Jonathan?” Sturdevant
clicked on his turn signal.
“
Pardon me?”
“
Here's Exit Three. Where do I go then?”
' ‘Left at the bottom of the ramp. That street winds up to
the Post Road.”
Corbin settled back and took Gwen's hand. He kissed it.
That action, which she took as a show of affection, was
more in the nature of an apology for those times during the
ride up there when he realized that the woman touching
him, rubbing his back, was Gwen and not Margaret; and
he'd felt a mild resentment. As if Gwen were intruding. He
hoped it hadn't shown. There was nothing in her eyes, no
hurt, that would suggest that it had, but who knows? Gwen
was so perceptive. And besides, he'd been half dozing-most
of the way up from New York. Daydreaming. Highway hypnosis. Who knows what you say or do when you're half
asleep. He found himself wondering what he'd say to her
if she ever asked. What if she asked, What would you do
if you had to make a choice between me and Margaret?
But she wouldn't. If she asked anything at all, Gwen's
questions would be much more pointed. Such as, Jonathan,
isn't it time you separated your feelings once and for all between this living woman who loves you and a woman
whom you loved a century ago? Fair enough. But where
am I supposed to go to get away from Margaret? Out of
New York? Somehow it doesn't seem as though that would
do it, especially if Sturdevant is right and this woman I'm
half in love with turns out to be my great-grandmother. Out
of Greenwich? No. Greenwich is my home.
That action, which she took as a show of affection, was
more in the nature of an apology for those times during the
ride up there when he realized that the woman touching
him, rubbing his back, was Gwen and not Margaret; and
he'd felt a mild resentment. As if Gwen were intruding. He
hoped it hadn't shown. There was nothing in her eyes, no
hurt, that would suggest that it had, but who knows? Gwen
was so perceptive. And besides, he'd been half dozing-most
of the way up from New York. Daydreaming. Highway hypnosis. Who knows what you say or do when you're half
asleep. He found himself wondering what he'd say to her
if she ever asked. What if she asked, What would you do
if you had to make a choice between me and Margaret?
But she wouldn't. If she asked anything at all, Gwen's
questions would be much more pointed. Such as, Jonathan,
isn't it time you separated your feelings once and for all between this living woman who loves you and a woman
whom you loved a century ago? Fair enough. But where
am I supposed to go to get away from Margaret? Out of
New York? Somehow it doesn't seem as though that would
do it, especially if Sturdevant is right and this woman I'm
half in love with turns out to be my great-grandmother. Out
of Greenwich? No. Greenwich is my home.
“
Where now?” Sturdevant had climbed a hill to a Stop
sign, which required a turn left or right.
“
Go right, then bear left, and you'll come to the Green
wich Library on the Post Road. Go right at that light. My
house is on Maple Avenue, down another half mile.”
Go right, then bear left, and you'll come to the Green
wich Library on the Post Road. Go right at that light. My
house is on Maple Avenue, down another half mile.”
”
I know where I am now. You said the library was open
on Sunday?”
I know where I am now. You said the library was open
on Sunday?”
“
Until one, I think.”
“
Do you mind if we stop there first? I'd like to check a
few things, particularly if they have newspaper microfilms
going back far enough. Do they?”
“
Let's take a look.”
The main branch of the Greenwich Public Library, a large
building of gray stone, was originally a Franklin Simon
store, with ample parking in the rear. The store had failed
as a business, never quite grasping that old money tends to dress down rather than up, and the property was bought by
the town of Greenwich for one of several potential uses.
The library won out, but that raised another question. The
Franklin Simon building, with four floors including the for
mer bargain basement, was much larger than anything the
library could envision needing. However, since all activities
tend to expand to fill the time and space available to them, he Greenwich Public Library soon grew to be one of the
largest in the state, complete with a theater that was the largest in all of Greenwich. .
building of gray stone, was originally a Franklin Simon
store, with ample parking in the rear. The store had failed
as a business, never quite grasping that old money tends to dress down rather than up, and the property was bought by
the town of Greenwich for one of several potential uses.
The library won out, but that raised another question. The
Franklin Simon building, with four floors including the for
mer bargain basement, was much larger than anything the
library could envision needing. However, since all activities
tend to expand to fill the time and space available to them, he Greenwich Public Library soon grew to be one of the
largest in the state, complete with a theater that was the largest in all of Greenwich. .
. Harry Sturdevant found the microfilm section by follow
ing signs. Four projection machines and several cabinets contained back issues of the local newspaper,
Greenwich
Time,
its
ancestor,the.Greenwich Graphic,
and the
New
York Times
dated back before the Civil War. Each file tray
held microfilm spools covering a period of two to five
years. He opened the drawer marked New York Times—
Nov. 1887 thru Feb. 1890 and drew out the spool that
would contain the month of March 1888. This he handed
to Corbin.
ing signs. Four projection machines and several cabinets contained back issues of the local newspaper,
Greenwich
Time,
its
ancestor,the.Greenwich Graphic,
and the
New
York Times
dated back before the Civil War. Each file tray
held microfilm spools covering a period of two to five
years. He opened the drawer marked New York Times—
Nov. 1887 thru Feb. 1890 and drew out the spool that
would contain the month of March 1888. This he handed
to Corbin.
“
Would you rack this up for me, please, Jonathan, while
I locate one or two others?”
Corbin looked at the spool and then at the nearest viewer,
which he stared at for a long moment before noticing the
set of instructions taped to its lid. Sturdevant pretended not
to be watching him. Corbin began by inserting the spool
upside down, then backward, then eventually finding the
correct track by process of elimination. It pleased Sturde
vant to see that the machine had baffled Jonathan. He was now more certain than ever that Jonathan was about to see
these pages for the first time. The first, at least, as Jonathan
Corbin. Sturdevant took a seat at the viewer and advanced
the fast-forward lever until he reached the masthead for March 10, 1888. A Saturday.
The famous blizzard, he already knew, would not actu
ally begin until the evening of the eleventh, but Sturdevant
decided that knowing a bit about its context might be use
ful. A glance at the front page reminded him that Grover Cleveland was in the White House and that Abram Hewitt,
the man who'd defeated Teddy Roosevelt for mayor in
1886, was in City Hall. Otherwise, the paper seemed filled
with thoughts of spring. The past winter, one column noted, had been the mildest in seventeen years. Robins had already
been sighted, trees were budding, crocuses were up. The
forecast for the day: again unseasonably warm, temperature
in the fifties. The Barnum, Bailey, and Hutchinson Circus
arrived in New York that day from its winter headquarters
and a torchlight parade through two miles of lower Man
hattan was planned for that evening. A bit of entertainment
news caught Sturdevant’ s eye. Ada Rehan was appearing
in
A Midsummer Night's Dream,
and the legendary Ellen Terry was starring with Henry Irving in
Faust
at the Star
Theater down on Thirteenth Street. He checked the forecast
for Sunday. Cloudy. Light rain. Temperatures still above
normal. Sturdevant advanced the spool to March 11.
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