A Golden Cage (21 page)

She fled back downstairs to find everyone else standing around Edwin Stevens.

He held up both hands. “Calm. We must stay calm. I can't talk sense into this crazy landlady. I'll have the stage manager call the hotel and book rooms.” He shot the fingers of both hands violently through his hair. “Then I will approach the Granthams about paying for this delay. And then I will see about getting Rollie out of jail. But you must stay calm.” He lowered his voice. “And very discreet. Now, go collect your things. One day we'll have a good laugh about this over a pint or two.”

“Over Charlie, too?” Talia spat out the words.

“No, not over Charlie. But we'll remember the good times. And we'll dance when the real murderer is brought to justice.”

“You don't think Rollie did it?”

Stevens hesitated. “I certainly hope not.”

They broke up then, Stevens to use the landlady's telephone and the others upstairs to pack. Deanna followed Talia to her room. “Where is Noreen?”

“I don't know. Go away.”

“What about her things?”

“I'll pack them. And you better not talk to anyone about what you heard.”

Deanna shook her head. What had she heard? A bunch of people trapped in a town where they knew no one, losing money as each day slipped by. Away from their families, angry, grieving for a friend and colleague, and each reacting in their own way. And now, one of them accused of murder.

And yet she couldn't get the image of Gil and Timothy out of her mind. The gentle touch, the concern for a friend.

She shook her thoughts clear. “What about Amabelle's things?”

“Someone will pack them.”

“Maybe I should. The lady I'm spending the summer with is a friend of her mother's. I'm sure she would want them.”

“Well, you can't have them. How do I know you're not some snitch come in here to make us all look bad?”

“I'm not. I want to help.”

“Then bugger off.” Talia stepped in front of her, clipping her shoulder hard enough to send Deanna stumbling back.

Things were getting out of hand. It was time to ask for help.

Elspeth was standing across the street, hands on her hips, when Deanna came out of the house. “What's going on over there?” Elspeth said as soon as Deanna reached her.

“Pandemonium.” Deanna explained what she knew, though she left out the part about Timothy and Gil. She wasn't sure why, but she just felt like it wasn't something she should share, at least not out on the street.

“I'm afraid we have to make one more stop.”

Elspeth slumped. “I near wore off the soles of my shoes running around after you all day.”

“I know, I'm sorry. We really should think about getting you a bicycle.”

“No, thank you very much. Where are we going next?”

“To the Fifth Ward to see Joe. But on the way we can stop at the grocery and get a soda. I'm parched.”

“That's the best idea I've heard all day.”

They walked west then south, Deanna pushing her bicycle. Several blocks later they stopped outside the grocery to buy two
root beers, and stood drinking them on the walkway with Deanna quickly looking around to make sure no one was watching them. But as soon as the first swallow of cold soda made its way down her throat, she forgot all about what was acceptable for a young lady and guzzled the rest in sheer enjoyment.

They returned the bottles and continued on their way, and within a few minutes they had reached the Fifth Ward.

“I don't think you should be walking in this neighborhood,” Elspeth said.

“No one will see me,” Deanna assured her. “The cottagers never come here.”

“I'm not thinking about them, I'm thinking about your safety.”

“Oh,” Deanna said, and walked a little faster.

Two blocks later they were standing, unscathed, outside the warehouse where Joe now lived and worked.

It was a brick building and though it looked like it was two stories, there was only one large, cavernous space inside. Joe had partitioned off the area that had formerly been offices and made it into his living quarters, but it was always a shock to see how he lived.

She didn't see his bicycle, but sometimes he kept it inside; thefts were notorious in this section of town. And even though she knew Joe had hired men to watch the premises to repel any possible saboteurs, she didn't know if they would energetically pursue a bicycle thief.

She stood back while Elspeth knocked on the door. It was opened almost immediately by her brother Orrin. “Elspeth. What—Miss Deanna. What are you both doing here?”

“Is that any way to speak to a lady, Orrin?”

Orrin was taller than Elspeth. Both brother and sister
looked very much alike. Pale skin and red hair, that in Orrin's case waved naturally back from his forehead. Deanna had never seen Elspeth's hair unpinned, she now realized. She always wore it in a low bun.

Orrin stepped in front of the slightly open door. “Mr. Joseph ain't here.”

“When do you expect him back?”

“I don't know, miss. Soon? I—”

“Whatcha think, leaving my mistress to stand out on the street with a bunch of rowdies? We'll wait for him inside.” Elspeth pushed her brother out of the way and opened the door for Deanna to guide her bike in. She had rolled it almost to the middle of the room before she saw the reason Orrin didn't want to let her in.

Noreen Adams sat at the scrubbed table, a cup of tea before her, and looking very much at home.

“J
ust what is going on here?” Elspeth demanded. Which was a good thing, since Deanna couldn't seem to find her voice. She could only stare. Noreen in Joe's rooms. How long had she been there?

“Well, put my mistress's bicycle somewhere and make her a cup of tea.”

Deanna felt the bike lift from her hands. Now she had nothing to hold on to. She could only stare at Noreen and wonder what she was doing in Joe's rooms. And wonder how she could possibly leave without looking like a fool.

She glanced around for Elspeth, but Elspeth had Orrin by the ear—not an easy feat since he was a head and a half taller than his sister. She was leading him toward the stove. But Deanna had no intention of sipping tea with Joe's . . . whatever she was while Rollie was being arrested and Amabelle was hiding in an attic fearing for her life.

Though now that she noticed, Noreen didn't look like a
woman with love on her mind; she seemed anxious and maybe afraid. And hadn't Talia said Noreen had been with them a minute before?

“So we meet again,” Noreen said in a lofty tone, but Deanna wasn't fooled by it. Not now.

Elspeth put a chipped mug on the table, pulled out a stool. And nodded at Deanna.

“And you brought your maid,” Noreen added.

Deanna sat down. Frowned across the table at the actress. “Do you know they just arrested Rollie for Charlie's murder?”

Noreen blinked twice. “Yes, that's why I came, but how did you know he'd been arrested?” she asked, dropping all pretense. “I was going to ask for Joseph's, Mr. Ballard's, help. I know he is acquainted with the sergeant on the case.”

Deanna looked around for Orrin; found him and Elspeth standing along the far wall, watching the two seated women. It made Deanna smile inside. “Orrin, where is Joe? Do you know when he's planning to return?”

Orrin pushed away from the wall. Wiped his hands on his trousers. “He's down with one of them theater people looking at some contraption they used in the play. He didn't say when he was coming back. But you know how he is, miss.”

Deanna nodded. Joe in the thralls of scientific discovery could forget all time. Should they all trek over to Judge Grantham's cottage and demand entrance?

“But he's been gone for a while now, so I expect he'll be coming along shortly.” Orrin looked at the door as if he were expecting—praying?—for Joe to enter.

“It's all right, Orrin. We'll wait, if that's amenable to you.”

Orrin cut a look to his sister.

“She's asking if we can stay.”

Deanna caught the glint of Noreen's smile before she erased it.

“Oh sure, miss. Though it's kind of a mess right now. We're having a little problem with the delivery system.”

Noreen leaned forward across the table. “How do you know about Rollie? Do you know that policeman, too? What did he say?”

In for a penny . . . “I didn't see the police, but I was on my way to the boardinghouse when I saw the police wagon take someone away. Talia said it was Rollie.”

“Why were you going there? What business do you have there?” Noreen's voice was suddenly shrill even though she was attempting to keep it calm.

“I was looking for you.”

*   *   *

J
oe left Obadiah in the pub after having bought him a couple of beers. It was too early for Joe to drink; he had plans for the afternoon's work. But he drank anyway to be polite, and he was feeling slightly light-headed and close to euphoric when he burst into the warehouse.

“Orrin, I've just had a brill—” He stopped in his tracks. Either that second beer had been stronger than he imagined or there were two ladies taking tea in his kitchen, such that it was.

He shook his head to clear it.

They were still there. Deanna and Noreen.

“Mr. Joe! Joseph! Joe!”

Joe held up both hands, one of which was still clutching the piece of paper he'd used to jot down the ideas for a continuous loading-unloading system he'd had during his second beer.

He snatched it down. “What?”

“I didn't know what to do, Mr. Joe.”

“It's about time you got here—Miss Deanna having to sit with the likes of her.”

“You said you were interested in helping. They've arrested one of our company.”

“Joe, I know that Amabelle didn't kill Charlie.”

“Well, Rollie didn't kill him, either.”

“Well, somebody did. We'll just have to keep looking.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“No, and you had better not say anything, either.”

“Mr. Joe, do something.”

“Mr. Joseph! Have you been drinking? And here it is, not even two o'clock.”

“Two o'clock? Oh no. Elspeth, Gran Gwen will be wondering where we are.”

“Yes, miss.”

“Joseph, please, Rollie can't stay in jail. He's too, too . . . can't you speak with your police friend?”

“Stop!” Joe held up both hands, though he was more inclined to put them over his ears. “What we need here is some order. First, as much as I'm flattered to have two lovely ladies in my . . . uh . . . parlor.” Joe grinned at that. His parlor was the same as his kitchen and dining room, an area framed off from the rest of the warehouse that served as his workshop.

“Joe!”

Dee's exasperated voice brought him back to the seriousness of the situation.

“One at a time, and Orrin, could you put on some coffee? Something tells me I'll need all my wits about me.”

“Hmmph,” Elspeth said. “I'd better do it. And I'm making it strong, too.” She turned away from him, and Joe pulled up
the last stool, the one with the uneven legs, and sat down at the table.

“Now, what's happened?”

Both women just looked at him. Only Elspeth clattering pots and crockery at the sink broke the silence.

Joe tried to keep his patience, though he really just wanted to draw up more precise plans for his sketches and start applying them to the bagging machine. If he could work out the logistics, it would unlock dozen of ways to use the mechanism.

“First of all, they've arrested Rollie for murdering poor Charlie,” Dee said.

“And who is Rollie?”

“He's one of the actors.”

“He's a dear boy who wouldn't hurt anyone. I've even left Letty with him.” Noreen turned to Deanna. “Letty's my daughter. She adores him. He adored Charlie, showed him the ropes. He wouldn't hurt him.”

“Then why has he been arrested?” Joe asked.

“We have no idea except that—oh, it must be Edwin, he said he'd do anything to get the company back to work. I don't want to think he'd turn in one of his own, but you can't really blame him for trying.” Noreen stood suddenly. “I'm going to confront him. I should have done that as soon as they arrested Rollie.”

“You were there when the police came?” Joe asked.

“Yes,” Noreen said. “As soon as I realized what was happening, I came here. I knew you would have more sway with the police than any of us.”

“So how did you get here?” Joe asked Dee.

“I . . .” She glanced at Noreen, and Joe caught the slight movement of Noreen's head. He cut his eyes back to Dee.

“What's going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Something. Dee, you're a terrible liar.”

“I am not. I mean, I'm not lying.”

“Do leave her alone, Joseph. Deanna had come to see me at the boardinghouse and she saw them take Rollie away and came here to tell you. Now, enough talking. We need to act.”

“Are you sure you're not already acting?”

Noreen glared at him. “Obviously I was mistaken to take you at your word. I'm sorry to have bothered you.” She picked up her purse. Nodded to Orrin, who was just bringing Joe's coffee. “Thank you for the tea. I won't be bothering you again.”

Joe groaned. “God spare me from volatile women.”

Noreen's step didn't falter as she reached the door.

“Noreen, come back. I'm sorry. Tell me everything.” He caught sight of Dee's expression. God only knew what she thought about Noreen and him. “You, too, Dee. My apologies.”

Noreen reluctantly returned to the table.

Joe gave one last glance at his sketches and called Orrin over. “Will you please go to the police station and ask Sergeant Hennessey to join us? And ask him to first call Bonheur and tell my grandmother that Dee is with me. For my sins. And I'll bring her home in time for dinner.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I'll go, too, miss. If that's all right. Keep him from mucking about and wasting time.”

“Of course, Elspeth,” Deanna said.

“I wouldn't do that,” Orrin groused.

“Mucking about,” his sister repeated.

Noreen chuckled. “If the situation weren't so dire I would be
enjoying the interaction between the two of them. Great character studies.”

That got a frown from Orrin
and
Elspeth before she shoved him out the door.

Joe drank his coffee and hoped Will was available and got there soon.

He was in luck. Will stepped in ten minutes later.

If the room had dropped into an uneasy silence while they waited, it erupted again into a babel of voices. Dee's and Noreen's, mainly. Joe just sat back to wait for them to wind down.

Will looked a little nonplussed. Joe offered him the rickety stool and went to drag a crate from the storage room to sit on. This might turn into a long afternoon.

The flow of questions, demands, and wringing of hands cut off immediately when Will reached inside his coat and pulled out his notebook and pencil stub.

“Now, which one of you ladies would like to begin?”

Noreen and Dee looked at each other, and Joe wondered how two women who had barely met and who already disliked each other could so quickly become allies. Some things about women were unfathomable.

While they were waiting, Will said, “I called Gran Gwen. She says she won't ask and to bring the whole lot of us home with you for dinner. I thanked her for myself but I'm on duty, where I'll probably stay until this is over.”

“Firstly,” Noreen said. Somehow, without speaking, the two women had decided on Noreen taking the lead. “Why did you arrest Rollie?”

Will consulted his notes. “That would be Roland Gibbs.”

“Yes.”

“I'm not at liberty to say.”

Noreen looked taken aback. “Why not? You were at liberty to arrest him. Or can you not tell us because you drew straws and he came up with the short one?”

Will's jaw tightened, but before Joe could intervene, Dee did.

“What she means is do you have real evidence against him, or did someone rat him out?”

Will sputtered. “Dee, really. I mean, Miss Randolph.”

Joe thought Dee looked rather proud of herself. He could tell Noreen was impressed at the way Dee had disconcerted Will and was not at all shocked at Dee's use of dime thriller vocabulary.

“Well, I think it's a valid question,” Dee said, blushing slightly.

“Please, Sergeant,” Noreen said, leaning forward. “Rollie did not kill Charlie. I know he didn't.”

“Can you prove this?”

Noreen hesitated, and Joe knew she couldn't.

“No, can you prove he did?” She met Will's eyes. Hers were hard and Joe felt a pang of compassion for her, raising a child on her own, earning her own way, having no one to stick up for her but herself. “I didn't think so. And I'll go one step further. You received an anonymous tip, did you not?”

Will shifted slightly, but the short leg on the stool nearly dumped him onto the floor.

“You did,” Noreen said triumphantly. “Well, I can disabuse you of the veracity of that. It was from Edwin Stevens, our company manager.”

“And did you see the note?” Will asked.

She hesitated. “No. But I did hear him say he would do anything to get us back to New York.”

“I will certainly be talking to Mr. Stevens about this. And do you happen to know the whereabouts of Miss Amabelle Deeks?”

Noreen and Dee avoided looking at each other so completely that Joe knew at once that one if not both of them knew where Belle was.

“She's not dead?” Will asked.

But if Will thought he could fluster Dee, he was wrong. She didn't blink, and Joe couldn't help but be impressed by her discipline, even though he knew it was wrongheaded. She would soon be able to hold her own in any ballroom or dinner party or with a husband. He just hoped she found someone who could respect her and encourage her.

“Ladies,” Joe said, “Sergeant Hennessey cannot help Rollie or Belle if you don't confide in him.”

This earned him a sardonic look from Noreen. She turned to Will. “Tell me what the anonymous note said.”

“I'm not at liberty . . .”

“Then neither am I.”

“Nor I,” Dee added for good measure.

Will gave her such a look that Joe was afraid he was going to say, “Now listen here, young lady,” and that would be such a setdown and such a shame.

Joe stepped in. “Would it compromise your investigation to tell us what the note said?”

Will's Adam's apple worked. Dammit, why didn't he just say yes and be done with it?

But he looked from Noreen to Deanna and back again.

“Shall I guess what it said?”

“No,” Will blurted.

“So it
is
that.” Noreen looked at Deanna. “They're afraid of sullying your ears with the truth, my dear.”

When did Dee become her “my dear”? Joe wondered. And what truth were they talking about?

Dee looked first to Noreen then to him, looking resigned that she would be sent from the room like a naughty child.

“Really, how long are you going to clip this one's wings?” Noreen asked. “Can't you see she's not made for the idle life of drawing rooms and ballrooms? If she isn't given a chance to spread her wings, she
will
fly, like Amabelle, to join the theater, the circus, or much worse. Would you have that?”