Unseemly Ambition (23 page)

Concordia folded her hands primly in
her lap. “The luncheon was crowded, and the air stifling, so I
decided to take a walk on the grounds before the dessert
course.”

O’Neil made a note on his
pad. He gestured to the main gravel path up the slope behind them.
“But as you can see, the shed is out of the way. What brought
you
here
?”

“
I was standing at the end
of the path,” Concordia said, pointing behind her. She hated the
lie, but had better do a good job of it. Safer not to trust this
man, at least until she could speak with Capshaw. “I thought I
heard something. Like a moan,” she added, for dramatic
effect.

This earned her a sharp look from the
doctor, who was standing within earshot. Concordia flushed. She
wondered if Mr. Rosen had been in no condition to moan. Perhaps
embellishment wasn’t a good idea.

“
So you know of no reason
why Mr. Rosen would have been in the gardener’s shed?” Sergeant
O’Neil persisted.

Concordia shook her head and leaned
heavily on her parasol, a perfect vision of feminine distress. “I
have no idea. Will that be all, sergeant? I’m feeling light-headed.
I think I need to lie down.”

There was one thing to be
said for having an attack of the vapors: everyone left you alone to
recover from it. Of course, the smelling salts that Mrs. Houston
insisted upon waving under Concordia’s nose when they first
returned to the house weren’t all that pleasant, but at least now
Concordia had the solitude to think about her next step.

She paced the confines of
her childhood bedroom. What had Rosen wanted to tell her? It was
obviously connected to the Black Scroll; that’s what she and Miss
Hamilton had asked him to look into. Presumably that was why he was
murdered.

Then she had a chilling
thought. If Rosen was killed to ensure his silence, that meant the
killer knew of Concordia’s involvement. And perhaps Miss Hamilton’s
as well.

She must talk to Capshaw,
right away. He might know where to locate Miss Hamilton so they
could warn her. And perhaps he would know what they should do
next.

She glanced at the little clock on the
desk. Almost dinner. Concordia changed quickly and went
downstairs.

Concordia’s mother and
Robert Flynn, who was joining them for the evening, were waiting in
the parlor for Mrs. Houston to announce dinner.

“
How are you feeling,
dear?” Mrs. Wells asked anxiously. Flynn had stood politely as
Concordia entered the room, but she waved him back to his chair and
sat down herself.

“
Much better.” Concordia
looked over at Flynn, ever elegant in his stiff white shirt and
black worsted evening tails. “I know I was originally planning to
accompany you to the musical entertainment at Mrs. Griffiths’ this
evening, but would you mind going without me?”

“
Never fear, we’ll make
your excuses to the lady,” Robert Flynn assured her. “’Tis a
dreadful experience you’ve had.”

Mrs. Wells shuddered. “I
cannot believe this has happened. Who would want to kill
this...newspaperman? And at our luncheon, too.”

Flynn patted her hand.
“I’ll allow ’tis a dreadful thing, but thank the stars we managed
to keep the guests out of it. Except for the doctor, and he’s as
discreet a fellow as ever stood in shoe leather. It’s unlikely to
be a prominent story when the guests learn of it later, I
imagine.”

Concordia suppressed a
sigh. The newspaperman would have been quite upset to know that his
own murder wasn’t considered a “prominent story.”

“
I imagine a quiet evening
at home is just what you need,” Mrs. Wells said to
Concordia.

“
Actually, I had hoped to
visit Sophia,” Concordia said. “Would you mind dropping me off
there on your way to the Griffiths’ function?”

Mrs. Wells’ face
brightened. “Sophia? I haven’t seen her since the wedding. Oh, I
would love to visit with her, even if it’s only for a little
while.” She turned to Flynn. “Would you mind if we left a little
early, and stopped briefly at the Capshaws? I’m sure we could be at
Agatha’s in time for the quartet.”

“
It’s equal to me,” Flynn
said with a shrug. “A policeman’s house, eh?” He pursed his lips
thoughtfully. “Should be interesting.”

Mrs. Wells turned to
Concordia. “But how will you get home? We’ll be out quite
late.”

“
I’m sure I can stay the
night. Then I can walk back or take the trolley tomorrow morning.
It’s not that far,” Concordia said. “I’ll send a note ’round to
her, just to make sure.”

The evening ride from the Wells’ home
in Frog Hollow to the Capshaws in the Clay Hill neighborhood was
mercifully free of traffic, and they made quick time. Flynn told
the driver to wait nearby. “Look lively, lad, and don’t go far.
We’ll be no more’n thirty minutes.”

Sadie opened the door and took their
wraps. “The missus is in the parlor,” she said, leading the
way.

Robert Flynn’s eyebrow quirked as his
eyes swept over the cracks in the plaster walls and the scuffs in
the wood floor. Concordia gritted her teeth when she caught Flynn
giving her mother an amused smile, to which Mrs. Wells paid no
attention.

“
Sophia!” Mrs. Wells
exclaimed, when they entered the parlor. She clasped the young
woman’s hands warmly. “You look wonderful. I knew marriage would
agree with you.”

Indeed, Concordia noted in surprise,
Sophia seemed lighter and happier today, as she smiled and
exchanged greetings with Concordia’s mother and Mr.
Flynn.

“
Aaron will be back in a
few minutes. Please, be comfortable,” Sophia said. She turned back
to Mrs. Wells and Mr. Flynn. “Would you excuse us for a moment?”
Without waiting for a response, Sophia grabbed Concordia by the
elbow and nearly dragged her from the room.

“
What is it?” Concordia
whispered, when they were in the hall and Sophia had closed the
parlor door behind them.

Sophia was hopping up and down in her
excitement. “Eli has been found! He’s coming home.”

Concordia put a hand to her
mouth.
Thank heaven.
“How is he? Did Miss Hamilton tell you what
happened?”

Sophia shook her head. “It was a short
telegram. She merely said that he’s recovering from injuries, but
he’ll be fine.”

Injuries.

Concordia felt a little sick. Had the
boy been in a strange hospital all this time? It was agonizing that
Miss Hamilton hadn’t revealed more. No doubt it was all she could
do to send them word.

Sophia must have read Concordia’s
expression, because she reached out and squeezed her hand. “She
said he’ll be fine,” she reminded her.

“
When are they coming?”
Concordia asked.

“
I’m not sure. She said she
would find the fastest conveyance possible. Now we
wait.”

“
Once mother and Mr. Flynn
leave, there’s something urgent I need to talk with you and
Cap—Aaron about,” Concordia said.

Sophia raised an inquisitive eyebrow,
but stopped short when the front door opened. Capshaw walked in,
followed by…David Bradley?

“
Fortunately, Mrs. Gilley’s
shop was open late,” Capshaw said, holding out a string-wrapped
box. He grinned. “I got your favorite, Concordia—lemon tarts.” He
gestured to David. “Look who I met on the walk back. I’ve just
caught him up on our news.”

David nodded. “I was returning from a
lecture, and realized I’ve been remiss in visiting you two since
your marriage. And now, we have a great deal to celebrate, don’t
we?” He eyed Concordia warmly. “Plenty of good news to go
around.”

Capshaw gave her a quizzical look, but
Concordia pretended not to notice.

At least David had
recovered his good humor. There was no trace of his pique from last
week’s encounter with Mr. Rosen in front of DeLacey House.
But
land sakes
, how
was she going to tell David about Rosen’s murder? How would he
react when he learned that she’d been the one to find the dying
man?

“
We’d better go in to our
guests,” Sophia said.

“
Yes, let’s,” Concordia
said, putting on a smile. “They cannot stay long.”

The group settled in over dessert. The
talk turned to police work, in which Flynn took a great interest.
Capshaw regaled them with outlandish stories of foolhardy
criminals.

“
The devil, you say!” Flynn
exclaimed, at one point in Capshaw’s narrative. “The thief cooked a
steak for himself and ate it,
before
taking the jewels? Egad, the cheek of the
man!”

Capshaw grinned.

“
More coffee?” Sophia
offered, holding up the pot.

A rueful smile tugged at Flynn’s mouth
as he pulled out his watch. “A pity it is to break up such a
gathering, but we will be late if we don’t leave soon.”

“
Oh my, yes!” Mrs. Wells
exclaimed.

The doorbell rang at that moment, and
Concordia caught a glimpse of Sadie hurrying to get it.

When Concordia saw who was at the
door, she unabashedly stood up and craned her neck for a better
look.

Miss Hamilton.

The next few minutes were an awkward
jumble: the Capshaws rushing to the hall, heedless of their guests,
with Concordia close at their heels. David, Letitia Wells, and
Robert Flynn made polite, awkward talk as they waited.

And wondered.

Soon Concordia returned to the parlor,
her expression a mixture of apology and pure happiness.

“
Sophia asked me to extend
her regrets for the disruption,” she said, “but her husband has
police business he must attend to. Sophia and I are needed as
well.”

David stood beside Concordia. “I’d be
happy to stay and wait for you.” He dropped his voice. “I behaved
quite foolishly last week. I wanted to apologize.”

Concordia smiled. “Yes,
please stay. Perhaps we can talk more when you take me home later.”
Now was not the time or place to discuss postponing their
engagement. She didn’t know how she was going to broach
that
subject.

Sadie came down the hallway. “Mr.
Flynn’s carriage is waiting.”

Flynn got to his feet and helped Mrs.
Wells out of her chair. “’Tis past time we were
leaving.”

Letitia Wells gave Concordia a worried
glance. “Are the Capshaws all right?”

Concordia smiled. “Actually, it’s good
news. I’ll explain tomorrow.”

Mrs. Wells nodded in relief and
followed Flynn into the hallway, where he retrieved his hat and
walking stick from the coat rack. Concordia heard him mutter
“’Twould be a shame if we’ve missed the contralto,” to her mother,
as he draped her shawl over her shoulders. He glanced through the
open door of the study and paused, taking in the sight of the group
seated by the fire: Miss Hamilton, Capshaw, and Sophia, with a very
grimy Eli fast asleep in her lap.

“
Robert? What’s wrong?”
Mrs. Wells asked, following his frozen stare.

He flushed an angry red,
gesturing toward the group in the study. “
This
is the
police business
for which we were kept
waiting?” His voice was a low growl. “Who the devil are
they
?”

Mrs. Wells, mouth set in a grim line
Concordia knew all too well from childhood, stalked out the front
door to the waiting carriage without a backward look at her rude
companion. Robert Flynn hurried to catch up with her as quickly as
his dignity would allow.

Concordia didn’t envy Flynn
the talking-to her mother would no doubt give him. And it was
exactly what he deserved. Apparently the man wasn’t
all
charm; he obviously
had a temper, along with an exaggerated sense of his own
importance.

Concordia shook her head and joined
the others in the study, where Sadie had set out some more tea and
pastries for the guests.

Penelope Hamilton looked up. Concordia
could see the exhaustion evident in the lady’s puffy, shadowed
eyes, her creased brow and pale lips. “I regret our arrival made
things awkward. Eli couldn’t bear to be away a minute longer. I
hired a driver to bring us directly here, rather than travel by
tomorrow’s train.”

Concordia regarded the sleeping boy in
Sophia’s lap, a strand of dark curly hair obscuring part of his
pale cheek. She would have done the same.

“
I read the evening paper
on the way here,” Miss Hamilton went on, with a sharp glance at
Concordia. “I understand you dealt with a disturbing event
today.”

Concordia sat down beside Sophia with
a sigh. “Most disturbing.”

“
I haven’t seen this
evening’s paper. What’s happened?” David asked.

“
Mother’s charity luncheon
at the Yacht Club took a nasty turn.” Concordia turned to Capshaw.
“That’s why I came to see you tonight, but we haven’t had a chance
to talk. Mr. Rosen...is dead.”