Fallen Women (11 page)

“Would you like tea or something stronger?” Mick asked. Beret focused her eyes, which were the color of the brooding sky outside, on the detective, not quite understanding. “Sherry perhaps?” he asked.

“I would like tea. And brandy.”

Mick summoned the waiter and gave the order: tea and two brandies. Then he sat back and watched Beret, waiting.

She looked around the room and recognized the place then. It was Charpiot’s Restaurant, “the Delmonico of the West,” as it fashioned itself with gold letters over the entrance. Charpiot’s had good reason to brag. It was Denver’s finest restaurant, and Beret had been there before with her aunt and uncle. Unlike most of the other eating establishments she had seen in Denver with their stuffy and overbearing décor, Charpiot’s was simply decorated, plain even, but elegant, very expensive, and well beyond a detective’s salary. She wondered why Mick had brought her to such a fine place. Perhaps policemen ate there free, part of the graft that was so common in the cities. Mick did not strike her as an officer on the take, but no matter. She resolved to pay.

Neither of them said anything until after the waiter set down the tea and brandy, placing the cup and the glasses just so, adding a plate with lemon slices, a cream pitcher, a sugar bowl, setting down a polished silver spoon. He bowed a little, glanced at Mick to see if anything more was wanted, and then slipped away.

Mick waited until Beret picked up either her cup or her brandy, but when she continued to sit as still as stone, he said, “Well, Miss Osmundsen—or is it Mrs. Staarman?”

“Osmundsen,” Beret said, shutting her eyes for a moment and taking a breath. “I resumed my maiden name when I divorced Edward. I didn’t want anything of him remaining in my life. That was last year. What happened today is a shock, although I had suspected Edward had followed my sister here. Still, I never expected to see him again.” She lifted the teacup but did not drink.

“So,” he said, inviting her to continue.

“So, you want to know what happened, I suppose.”

“It might help with the investigation.”

“And satisfy your curiosity.” She drank a bit of tea, then set down the cup and squeezed lemon into the brew. She couldn’t blame him for being nosy. Perhaps he’d savor the story to tell his friends at the station. No, that was not fair, Beret decided. Mick had shown no inclination to gossip. Besides, whatever she could tell him about Teddy might indeed help the investigation. She wondered if she could be objective, then dismissed the concern. She did not care.

Mick sipped his brandy. “Yes, I suppose so. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I never have. Even my aunt and uncle don’t know the story, only Lillie’s version of it. And what they’ve figured out themselves, of course.”

Mick nodded but didn’t speak.

“You’d be the first to hear my side, except for my lawyer and our guardian, Lillie’s and mine.” She lifted the teacup again, then thought better of it and picked up her brandy glass, inhaled the scent, and tasted it. “I married Edward after my parents died. They’d known him and didn’t care for him, actively disliked him, in fact. They’d warned me he was a fortune hunter, a wastrel. Perhaps if they’d been alive, I’d have seen the truth of it, but I was young and hadn’t many suitors. Teddy was charming and had an air of sophistication about him. He comforted me after my parents died, let me cry on his shoulder and showed much sympathy, because he hadn’t his parents, either, you see, and knew what it was like to be alone. And you saw for yourself, he is a handsome man.” Much too handsome for her, Beret thought. Why hadn’t she seen that? How often at the mission had she warned women about men who were too charming, too pretty, and yet she had been taken in by those very qualities every bit as much as they.

Beret waited until Mick said, “Go on.”

She found herself wondering if the detective understood why she’d been attracted to Teddy. She wanted him to. “Of course, I had the care of Lillie then. She was eleven when our parents died. I was overwhelmed by the loss and the responsibility of looking after her. That was another reason I married. I didn’t want to raise her by myself. And I was lonely, too. But mostly, I was in love.” She stared into the liquid in the glass, which shimmered in the overhead gaslights. It was still afternoon outside, but the room was darkened by heavy velvet curtains.

“It was a lovely marriage. We went to the theater, the opera, to parties. On my own, I didn’t much care for such things, but Edward loved the gay life, and I wanted to please him. I had my work at the mission, too, and he didn’t mind that I was gone all day. That meant a great deal to me. Of course, later on, I thought perhaps he had been delighted that I was out of the way.” Beret considered that for a moment and wondered how she could have been so trusting, so naïve. How stupid she’d been! Had she been too besotted to see through their charade of a marriage?

“Teddy lived the life of a gentleman. It didn’t bother me that he had no work. I had enough money for both of us—the three of us, of course, because with Lillie, we were a threesome. Teddy and I never had children of our own, so in our way, we both became Lillie’s parents.” Beret smiled at the memory as she picked up the spoon and stirred her tea but left the cup in its saucer.

They had indeed had a lovely time. Beret remembered that first Christmas with Teddy, the three of them hanging the fragile glass ornaments on the tree, then lighting the candles. Teddy had stood by with a bucket of water in case the flames set the tree on fire, while Lillie and Beret opened their presents. There was a grown-up gown of velvet and lace and satin for Lillie, an ermine muff, a gold bracelet, and a pendant in the shape of a flower, covered with diamonds. It had belonged to Lillie and Beret’s mother. Beret received a sable jacket and matching muff—the ones she had worn in the
carte de visite.
And she presented her husband with a fur-collared coat and an ebony walking stick with a gold knob.

Lillie hadn’t believed in Santa Claus for a long time, of course. Still, Teddy insisted she hang up her stocking by the fireplace, and after a dinner of roast goose and strawberry tarts, Beret and Lillie went to a midnight service at the cathedral. A groom drove them in a sleigh over snow-packed streets, sleigh bells ringing in the frigid air, the two young women covered with a fur blanket, their hands warm in their new muffs. Teddy said he had eaten too much goose and stayed behind. When the two returned, they heard the sound of bells in the parlor, and Teddy called, “Come quickly, Lillie. You’ve just missed the old gentleman.” And when Lillie and Beret entered the room, Teddy, his face radiant, pointed at Lillie’s stocking, bulging now, and a magnificent doll with real hair sitting beneath it.

For a moment, it appeared that Lillie really did believe in Santa again. How Beret had loved her husband for bringing that joy into their lives. Lillie clutched the doll to her breast. Although Lillie was too old for toys, Theodora, as the doll was named, became her favorite possession and remained on a chair in her room as long as she lived in the house. It was there still, Beret recalled. She wondered what had become of the pendant. Lillie must have taken it with her, because it was not among the things she’d left behind in New York. But it had not been found at the House of Dreams, either. Perhaps it had been stolen along with the diamond earrings. Recalling the necklace now, Beret asked Mick, “Was there a diamond pendant in the shape of a daisy found in my sister’s room? It was our mother’s, and Lillie wore it a great deal. She must have taken it with her to Denver, because it wasn’t left behind in New York.”

“No, nothing so fine. Her earrings were missing, but nobody said anything about a necklace.”

“Perhaps she didn’t wear it after she turned out. But it should have been there, in a drawer or else hidden somewhere.”

“We searched the room pretty good—twice. You were there the second time. Is it valuable?”

“Rather. But it was the sentimental value that meant the most to us. Father gave it to Mother, and it was her favorite piece of jewelry. That was why I wanted Lillie to have it.”

“Maybe she lost it.”

“Perhaps.” Beret thought about that. Or perhaps someone stole it. Maybe the pendant belonged to some other woman of the streets now, a prostitute who would think of it as a trinket, a paste bauble, not knowing how valuable it was, not caring what it had meant to the Osmundsen family.

“You were saying you had a good marriage, for a time anyway,” Mick prompted.

“Oh yes, almost until the end, ten years. You see, I don’t think it lasted very long, what happened between them…” Beret’s voice trailed off. “Our guardian was generous, although not overly so. Father must have been concerned that I would marry Teddy or someone like him, so in his will, he specified that I would have charge of Lillie, but the estate would be administered by my godfather, a banker. Under normal circumstances, I suppose, my part of the estate would have gone to my husband, since by law, I couldn’t control it. I was grateful later that Father had made the provisions he did, because that’s the only reason Teddy didn’t go through the money. He had enormous debts I didn’t know about. To save face, I settled them after he left.”

Mick finished his brandy and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Beret to continue.

For a moment, she was distracted by a couple who had entered the dining room and was being seated at a far table. The man, wearing a coat with a velvet collar, carried a walking stick with a gold knob that was similar to the one Beret had given Teddy that first Christmas. The woman was fashionably dressed in a gown with a tight bodice and a bustle, and she sat awkwardly, twisting in her chair, her legs to one side, attempting to find a comfortable position. As she removed her gloves, she glanced around the room, caught Mick’s eye, and smiled. Mick nodded. Beret glanced at the detective with a questioning look, and he said, “A friend.”

“You seem to know a great many people.”

“As do you.”

Beret wondered if he meant Teddy. She returned to her tea. As soon as she set down her cup, the waiter refilled it, then asked, “Would the lady and gentleman care for something to eat?”

“Soup?” Mick asked her.

Beret shook her head, and Mick told the waiter to bring him another brandy. After the man left, Mick leaned forward and asked, “And what happened?”

The question would have been rude in other circumstances, but Mick was a detective investigating a murder. Beret did not take offense. “I think you can guess.” She straightened the fingers of her gloves, which had been lying on the table, then folded the gloves together, not wanting to continue the conversation but knowing she had to. So at last, she sighed and said, “I don’t know when it started. Or how, but as I said, I don’t think it went on for long, less than a year, maybe only months, perhaps just weeks. Lillie adored Teddy. I suppose she had a crush on him. I never suspected anything, because she had such a busy social life, dozens of suitors. Several had asked Teddy for her hand, but Lillie was having too good a time to get married. Or at least, that’s what I thought.” She glanced at the woman across the room, who was engaged in conversation.

“It was a Monday, the servants’ day off. I’d said I’d be at the mission all day, but I’d come home with a sick headache. That was when I caught them. They were together. In our bed. Can you imagine, Detective? In my very own bed, the one I had slept in ever since I was a girl.” Beret shook her head and tried to blink back tears, as she recalled the horror of opening the door and finding the two of them, naked, lying on a spread of cut velvet. Later, she’d told the housekeeper to burn the spread, but there was no way to burn away the memory.

Beret took out a handkerchief then and dabbed at her eyes. “I am so sorry. This is not easy for me. Can you imagine how violated I felt, not only to catch them but to catch them in
my
bed? Perhaps you can’t. You deal with the refuse of life, as do I. Such an occurrence must seem unimportant when you compare it with what others we come into contact with have suffered—beatings, rapes, abandonment. But I had not expected such a thing in my perfect marriage. I was shocked, then hurt, then outraged.” She felt the emotions all over again and could not continue.

Mick reached across the table and patted her hand, and Beret was touched by the unexpected intimacy. Beneath the tough exterior of a police officer, he seemed to be a nice man. The waiter set down Mick’s glass, and Mick asked Beret, “Would you like more brandy?”

“Yes, I believe I would.”

The officer nodded at the waiter and gave the order. Beret put away her handkerchief and smiled a little. “I have turned into a great embarrassment.”

“Not at all. I do understand, you know.”

“Thank you.”

The waiter returned with the brandy, and Beret took a sip. “I behaved badly. I saw that later on, when it was too late. I blamed Lillie when I should have blamed Teddy. I should have known at the time that he had flattered her, seduced her, taken advantage of her. It’s the way men do things. How could she have resisted him? I couldn’t, you know. After all, I married him!” Beret shook her head at the truth of what she’d said. “You would think after working with so many poor women who’d been abused by their husbands or been forced to sacrifice their honor to their employers that I would have known the man was always at fault. But I’m afraid I reacted like a typical scorned woman. I blamed the other woman—my sister.” She almost gulped her brandy.

“And now, do you think she was at fault, too?”

“I don’t know.” It was a question she had asked herself over and over again in the past few days, ever since she had learned that Lillie had died in a house of prostitution. Had her sister indeed been the temptress? Had she, not Teddy, been the seducer? Beret shook her head to rid herself of the idea, although she was no longer sure.

“You threw them out of the house then.” It was a statement, not a question.

Beret nodded. “It was my house.” She thought a moment. “It was our house, Lillie’s and mine, our parents’ house, that is, but neither one of us thought about that. Lillie was so used to deferring to me that she didn’t realize she had as much right as I did to stay there.”