The Harrison: A Beautiful Place to Die (Madeline Donovan Mysteries Book 2) (7 page)

After laying her clothes out for her meeting with Hugh, she decided she would attempt to visit Louie and Rosa. It had been several days since the funeral, and she hoped they might be ready to speak with her about Maria.

When she arrived, the house was eerily quiet, and a lady, who said she was a cousin, seated her in the living area. Even though the draperies remained open, the house was as dark as midnight. It began to rain, a light rain, but the tapping of it on the window finished the effect of an embracive gloom.

"Madeline, how are you?" asked Louie in a hushed tone. "Rosa is lying down. She spends most days in repose, barely eating. Sometimes I think I may lose her too from grief."

"I understand. The days immediately following a tragedy like this can be so painful. I have come on an errand and hope it is not too soon to speak with you about it. I was hoping to acquire Maria's clothing and take it to be analyzed. I have a friend who may be able to ascertain if there is anything of note on the clothing."

"Yes. I have the clothes preserved as you had asked. I will gladly give them to you. Come with me into her room and I will show you what I have."

It was a lovely room, the kind you decorate for a very feminine girl. Lacey curtains and plush pillows adorned the quilt. Maria's things were laid upon the bed as if still waiting for her return.

"This is what had interested me when we were at the coroner's office. Do you see these random specks of white that look like some powder? I am hoping this may tell us something."

"I hadn't really paid attention to that, but yes, I can see there is some on the sleeve of her dress and around her collar. One other interesting thing has occurred. Rosa tells me this ring does not belong to Maria. At least, she had never seen her wear it before. Her jewelry consisted of some fine pieces left to her by my grandmother in Italy. The rings she possessed had antique settings. They were beloved by her as they were given to her from her Nana. That's why this ring stands out. It doesn't seem likely she would purchase a piece such as this."

Madeline held the ring in her hand. It appeared to be white gold with small diamonds set in a row.

"It is lovely. It almost looks like a betrothal ring."

"That's what we both thought, also. The type of ring one usually gives or gets when romantically involved. Maria did have a boyfriend in New York, but it was nothing serious. We have already contacted him, and he did not give her the ring."

"Perhaps she did meet someone, and this was a promise ring."

"That's always a possibility, but Rosa and I both feel that is an unlikely answer."

"Yes, sometimes in war-time you hear of such occurrences of instant attraction and marriage, but I agree that, under the circumstances, it does not seem likely. It will be invaluable as a clue to her disappearance, I'm sure of that. It may have been an enticement used by an unsavory character to win her favor. If were there against her will, she may have been trying to escape when she ran into the street."

"It is too difficult to speak about. Take her clothing, and please let us know as soon as possible what you discover."

"I will and I hope that Rosa will be better soon. Do you need my father to come and see her?"

"Yes, the medicine he gave her had some calming effect. Perhaps if he could bring her additional opium, that would help."

"I will tell him of your request, and I'm sure he will be able to see you before the end of the day."

"Thank you and take care. Remember, whoever harmed Maria is still out there."

"Unfortunately, that is true, but now we have some useful information to find him."

She carefully laid Maria's clothing over her lap as she drove home in the carriage. Now that she had seen the ring Maria had in her possession, it had steered her thoughts in a new direction. It seemed to her highly improbable that Maria's death was nothing but an unfortunate accident. She would contact Marilyn immediately, hoping to see that she was in possession of Maria's dress as soon as possible.

For the rest of the day, however, she would concern herself with the arrival of her guest from London.

She stopped at the florist to buy flowers for the table and for Hugh's room. Even a man could appreciate the scent of fragrant flowers. She believed it had a way of making one feel welcome and at home. From her garden, she had cut catmint, with its beautiful lavender color and spicy scent, along with white roses, she felt this would make a suitable display. She found herself humming as she arranged the flowers, and thought that she couldn't remember doing that for a long time. Perhaps at long last, she was getting better.

After dinner, she took her place at the window seat to continue reading The Mystery of Cloomber
,
a novel by Conan Doyle. Although it did not feature Sherlock Holmes, she still found the writing style and plot-line to be superb. She hoped there would be another Holmes mystery coming in the near future. Immersed in her reading, she did not immediately respond to the soft knocking on the front door. Then a familiar face tapped at the bay window. It was her Uncle Hank. She wondered what would bring him to her door at this late hour and hurried to answer the door.

"Uncle Hank, is everything all right?"

"Oh...I'm fine. It's nothing to do with me. It's the paper. I was out with some of my friends from work and on my way home, I got the late edition of the
Tribune.
I was looking for my horoscope when I came upon this article. Look here, ‘Unidentified Women Found Floating in
Chicago River’. I knew you would want to see the article; it just may be one of the girls."

"Please come in. Sit. I will get you a cup of coffee. It feels like déjà vu. I remember seeing the headlines in the paper in London when the Ripper struck. I know this is different. It may be accidental, just like Maria...still...I'll be right back with your coffee. Thank you for bringing me the paper."

Father had heard them talking and came out in his robe, his hair somewhat ruffled.

"What's this? Anything wrong?" he asked.

"I bought the paper with me, and there's news of a girl floating dead as nails in the Chicago River. What's happening to our neighborhood? It must be a worry indeed to any lady walking about that she might be in danger," said Uncle Hank.

"Good Lord," said the doctor. "May I see the story?"

Uncle Hank handed him the article while Madeline returned to the room with a tray of coffee and a handful of finger sandwiches.

"Thank you. I am hungry. It was another hard, long day, and I haven't had much besides beer to sustain me," said Uncle Hank.

"Sometimes I think you will blow away in the wind. You may come up anytime and join us for dinner. You know you are always welcome, and when my friend Hugh arrives tomorrow, you must come and meet him," said Madeline.

"What does the article say, Father?"

"There is a vague description of a young girl. A fisherman saw her and brought to shore."

"It doesn't say much at all...just that a woman believed to be between twenty and twenty-five years of age was found fully dressed in the river. They say it appears there was no foul play involved. They believe she may have accidentally fallen in.

I think I will go to Maxwell Station and see the same officer that I spoke with about Maria, and show him the photograph I have of Wanda and Felicia."

"Let's talk about more pleasant things, like our visit from Hugh Scott. I will be glad he will be here. Perhaps he will accompany you when you are out about town. I know that with this latest development, I will feel much better if he does," said her father.

"It will be wonderful to have him here, but Father, you will have to adapt to my position as detective. You know there will be some risk involved."

"I know, but still...I am happy he will be here."

"And me, too Miss Madeline. Erie Street is not the place it was just a few weeks ago. I would have said you could walk safely at two in the morning, but not now," said Uncle Hank.

"I will be cautious. I don't for a minute believe that these two deaths are either accidents or unrelated. Thank you for bringing the paper," she said before bidding them good-night.

Her father hugged her in a way that he had not for a while―more of a protective embrace than just a casual good-night.

She knew that when she awoke the next day, her friend Hugh would be here and that gave her courage and strength. She would now have an ally to confer with about the disappearances.

The morning brought a hearty rain, with black clouds converging over the area like an umbrella. She was disappointed that her friend should have to arrive on such a day like that, but it was a familiar sight to him living in London.

She had hoped to see Marilyn and give her Maria's dress, but with the rain she was worried the garment might be compromised if it were to get wet from the storm. She would wait for Hugh, and they could go together.  It would give her the opportunity to introduce Hugh to them.

"You look lovely, my dear," said Mrs. O'Malley. "That color blue suits you. I have not seen that dress before."

"I confess that I wanted something new and less conservative-looking to wear today."

She had chosen a princess line day dress that was gathered at the back in layers, dotted with tiny gold leafs against a sharp periwinkle blue dress, with white lace across the bodice.

Her father had wished to join her in meeting Hugh, but he had an emergency surgery that would now prevent him from doing so. She brought writing material so that she could busy herself in the event that it might be a long wait before the arrival and disembarking process was completed.

When she arrived, the rain had not let up. She could see the ship on the horizon, and her excitement at seeing Hugh made her maneuver about the other awaiting people to see if she could position herself closer to the dock. She waited under a covered area, her clothing damp and the front of her hair becoming frizzier, but that was the style, so she didn't mind.

She could see the passengers begin to descend. They moved along with great haste, all anxious to meet loved ones or to finally reach a new place they had never seen. In the sea of men hurrying down the ramps of the ship, it was hard to distinguish him through the dark coats pulled up close to their faces. But then she saw the familiar red tea rose flower, placed upon his label,  a feeling of joy came over her, and she ran into the rain to wave to him.

He smiled at her, that familiar smile that she knew so well.

"Madeline, it is so good to see you, and also to be on land," he said as he took her hand in welcome.

"You are a sight for my eyes to see. How many times I have saw you or one of the aunts coming to see me in my mind's eye, and now here you are. You do look a little done in. We will have a day of peaceful rest, hot soup and good conversation."

"From here Chicago looks considerably like London; wet, gloomy and crowded."

"Oh...I know. How I had hoped you would have arrived on one of our lovelier days. Tomorrow the weather forecast is much better. But, where is Phillip?"

"I gave him your address. He will have duties until all the passengers have left the ship. He will bring the luggage and come later."

"Come, I have a carriage waiting for us."

In the carriage, Madeline commented about the tea rose.

"I see you have that lovely flower in your lapel. That is how I was able to spot you amongst the mass of people descending from the ship," said Madeline.

"I know how much you liked the flowers from my mother's moonlight garden. I have brought you some plants from there. I hope they might thrive here as well."

"How wonderful! I don't know what will grow here. The winter comes in strong and seems to destroy my chances at building a garden, but I will certainly try my best."

"There is so much to talk about; I don't know where to begin. I am anxious to hear news about the case you are working on."

"And I to hear about your plans for buying land in Chicago."

She looked at him as if for the first time, thinking she had never appreciated how handsome he was. Looking the fine English gentleman in his gray suit, gloves, and top hat, he seemed to embody both grace and dignity.

Her father, Mrs. O'Malley and Uncle Hank were all waiting in the dining area when they arrived.

"Hugh, good to see you. I hope you had a pleasant journey to America. I hear it is your first visit. I hope you will find it as interesting here as we found London to be," said father.

"I already know I will like it because of the good company I will be in," said Hugh.

Father smiled as the group was introduced.

"Now, Mr. Scott, I hope you will like a bowl of hearty Irish stew. It is a favorite in our household and a native dish we are most proud to call our own. We also have some homemade broth that sits well on a night like this. It is the day for it―the thunder is shaking the house. I have made the coffee strong and the stew a little spicy. I hope you will enjoy it," said Mrs. O'Malley.