Unseemly Ambition (24 page)

“
Rosen. The reporter from
the
Courant
?”
Capshaw asked. “How are you involved?” He gave her that look
Concordia knew so well:
You college
ladies... always finding trouble.

Concordia clenched her hands together.
“I found him in the gardener’s shed. He’d been hit over the head
with a shovel.”

David drew in a sharp breath and
looked in her direction, but Concordia wouldn’t return his glance.
He no doubt wondered if the newspaperman’s murder was connected to
their meeting at DeLacey House. She didn’t want to argue with him
now about the perils of getting involved in a murder investigation.
Although there was no avoiding that discussion later, she was
sure.

“
I’d heard there was a
disturbance at the Yacht Club,” Capshaw said, “but I was on my way
out of the station and had no time to learn the details.” He shook
his head. “Had you gone searching for him? It’s a wonder you
weren’t killed, too.”

Concordia bristled and
started to speak, but Miss Hamilton interrupted. “Rosen was looking
into the Black Scroll, specifically the Inner Circle. You remember
the conversation I told you Concordia had overheard at the Isley
party? Since we weren’t able to learn more about the group, we
asked the reporter to make discreet inquiries. Certainly, we didn’t
anticipate
this.
”

Sophia sucked in a quick breath as she
glanced at Capshaw. “That was the group you told me about? The one
who might be involved in you being taken off the case.”

Capshaw nodded,
tight-lipped.

Miss Hamilton turned to Concordia.
“Tell us what happened. From the beginning.”

Concordia dug into her skirt pocket
and pulled out Rosen’s note. “He gave me this as the luncheon
guests were being seated.”

Capshaw gave it a quick glance before
passing it to Miss Hamilton. “And you have no idea what he was
going to tell you?”

Concordia shook her head. “There were
too many people likely to overhear. He didn’t dare say anything at
the time.” She proceeded to describe Rosen’s signal, her delay in
being able to get out of the room, finding Rosen in the shed,
barely alive, then Maynard coming upon them.

“
Wait a moment,” Capshaw
said. “How did Randolph Maynard come to be on the scene? You said
the gardener’s shed was off the path. What was he doing
there?”

Concordia sat back in surprise. “I
don’t know,” she said slowly. “I didn’t think of that before. I was
simply grateful for the assistance. I didn’t want to leave Mr.
Rosen alone in order to fetch help, and the dean offered to stay
with him. He made him more comfortable while I ran to get one of
the guests—a doctor.”

Capshaw and Miss Hamilton exchanged a
glance.

“
What is it?” Concordia
asked.

“
It seems suspicious,”
Capshaw said.

“
You mean, Maynard could be
the murderer?” Concordia asked. “But why return to the shed?
Wouldn’t he want to be as far from there as possible, for that very
reason?”

Miss Hamilton leaned forward. “If
Maynard is the murderer, he might have returned to make sure that
Rosen was truly dead—” Concordia winced “—or perhaps he feared he
had dropped something incriminating at the scene and had gone back
to retrieve it.”

“
And going with that
assumption for a moment,” Capshaw added, “you leaving him alone
with his victim would give him ample opportunity to scour the
area.”

Concordia hesitated. “The
dean
was
sitting
right next to me when Mr. Rosen slipped me the note,” she said
reluctantly.

“
If Maynard were a Black
Scroll member and realized the reporter knew something damaging, he
could have decided to silence him,” Miss Hamilton said. “Perhaps
Rosen wasn’t quite so cautious in his inquiries.”

“
But our
dean
?” Concordia said
incredulously. As disagreeable as Maynard was, could he really be a
cold-blooded killer? He had seemed more concerned with the
propriety of Concordia meeting a man alone in a remote
shed.

“
Now what do we do?”
Concordia asked.

“
Who’s assigned the case?”
Capshaw asked her.

“
A man named
O’Neil.”

Capshaw grimaced. “The sergeant is
diligent enough, though inexperienced. Did you tell O’Neil about
the note, and the reason why you had gone looking for
Rosen?”

Concordia shifted in her seat and
glanced at Miss Hamilton. “I thought it was better to leave out
that part.”

Capshaw rolled his eyes. “You’re
playing a dangerous game,” he said grimly. “If someone killed Rosen
to keep him from telling you what he knew, then you—and possibly
Miss Hamilton—are known to be involved. Do you think whoever it is
will scruple to kill another woman? We’ve discussed this before,
miss. Leave the detecting to the professionals.”

“
You must concede,
Lieutenant,” Miss Hamilton said, coming to Concordia’s defense,
“that we don’t know whom to trust in your department. Your removal
from the Willoughby murder investigation does not inspire
confidence in that regard. I believe Concordia’s caution was
warranted. We don’t know anything about this man O’Neil, or what
his superiors may request of him.” She gave Capshaw a stern look.
“When this case is done, your department will have some unpleasant
housekeeping to do.”

Capshaw scowled. “If our chief did
indeed allow a group such as the Black Scroll to obstruct an
investigation, he would have much to answer for.”

“
Has your replacement made
any progress in Florence Willoughby’s murder?” Concordia
asked.

Capshaw’s jaw tightened. “Not what I
would call ‘progress.’ The attack on the woman has been ascribed to
the actions of an unstable individual. With no additional garroted
victims since then, it is thought that the killer left the area and
the danger to the public has passed. I don’t believe that for a
moment, of course, but my opinion was not considered,” he added
bitterly.

“
So the case is still open,
but inactive?” Miss Hamilton asked.

“
Yes.”

“
Mr. Rosen was not
garroted,” Concordia said. “How do we know his death is connected
to Florence Willoughby’s murder?”

“
We don’t,” Miss Hamilton
said reluctantly. “We must learn what Rosen wanted to tell you. It
wouldn’t hurt to look into Maynard’s activities as
well.”

Eli murmured in his sleep, and all
eyes turned to the boy.

“
At least Eli is safe,”
Concordia said. It was the best news she’d had all day. “What
happened?” She pointed to the crutch propped next to the
divan.

“
The boy was grievously
injured after his release from jail,” Miss Hamilton said. She
turned to Sophia. “You’ll want your doctor to give him a good
going-over tomorrow. Do you mind if I start back at the beginning,
for Concordia’s and Mr. Bradley’s benefit?”

Capshaw nodded and pulled out his wad
of paper, folded and unfolded so many times Concordia could see the
smudge of its creasing from where she sat. “Hearing it again may
clarify a few things.”

“
I know little about any of
it,” David volunteered, with a swift glance at Concordia, “but I’ll
try to follow along.”

Miss Hamilton folded her hands in her
lap and began.

“
When I learned from Eli’s
friend—the boy who sells newspapers near the Pearl Street trolley
stop—that he saw Eli running after a cab on the afternoon of
Florence’s murder, I came to two conclusions: one, that the boy was
chasing someone–no doubt the person he was convinced had murdered
his mother; and two, that the cab was headed toward the train
station. He found another means to get to the station in order to
stay on the trail.”

Capshaw made an irritated gesture.
“What could he have been thinking, to take such a danger upon
himself? Why not come to me?”

Miss Hamilton opened her mouth to
speak, but Sophia interrupted. “I think I understand it.” She
smiled at her husband. “Although Eli had a mother—a surplus of
mothers, it seems—he’s never had a father. A boy his age needs
that. He’s become quite attached to you, dear. It’s clear he
admires you. He’s stated more than once that he wants to grow up to
become a police detective.”

“
So when the opportunity
arose to catch his mother’s killer, he acted on it,” Concordia
added. “He wants to earn your approval.”

Capshaw’s expression could have been
embarrassment, pride, or vexation; it was difficult to
tell.

“
In the heat of the chase,
I doubt there was time to reach you, anyway,” Miss Hamilton
said.

“
So what did you do next,
Miss Hamilton?” David prompted.

“
No one saw Eli take a
train out of Union Station that day. However, once I was able to
talk with the conductor who had been on leave, I learned that a boy
matching Eli’s description had been arrested and jailed for
sneaking aboard a train the next day. He was traveling
back
to Hartford from
Providence. He couldn’t pay for his passage. They’ve had trouble
with scofflaws lately, and have tightened their rules.”

“
Three days in jail seems
extraordinarily harsh for such an infraction. And a child at that,”
Concordia said.

Miss Hamilton nodded. “Indeed. “The
conductor worried that the man who’d pointed out the boy was a
spotter. The conductor didn’t want to risk being reported for not
following the company policy. Eli was only supposed to remain in
police custody until his family came to get him.”

“
Why didn’t Eli contact the
Capshaws?” Concordia asked.

“
The boy insists that when
he was put in jail he did ask that Sophia be contacted. He was told
that a telegram was sent, but there was no response.” Miss Hamilton
shrugged. “I don’t know what went wrong, but in his eyes, he was
convinced that you’d rejected him.”

“
The poor child,” Sophia
murmured, smoothing the hair from the boy’s forehead.

“
Prison officials then
referred Eli to a reformatory school, and the school matron came to
collect him,” Miss Hamilton said.

Concordia shook her head. “He would
have hated that.”

“
Exactly,” Miss Hamilton
said. “He managed to slip away from her in the street, shortly
after they left the jail. It was just after that when Eli was run
over by the hansom,” she added.

Concordia and David both started out
of their chairs. “‘Run over!’“ Concordia exclaimed.

“
I was explaining that when
you joined us,” Miss Hamilton said with perfect composure, as if
boys got run over by hansoms every day.

David leaned forward, brow creased in
concern. “Was it an accident, or deliberate?”

“
I feel certain it was
deliberate,” Miss Hamilton said. “It happened about three blocks
from the jail. Witnesses told me the driver had been lingering at
the corner, and suddenly whipped up the horse at great speed. He
didn’t stop after Eli was knocked to the ground. Only the fact that
the horse shied at the last minute saved the boy from worse
injury.”

Concordia shuddered. What sort of man
would callously run over a child?

“
What happened after that?”
Capshaw asked, scribbling in his pad. “Someone has obviously been
taking care of him.”

“
Yes,” Miss Hamilton said,
“the bystanders who witnessed the incident carried Eli to a nearby
house of a woman who’s a midwife. I’ve spoken with her. The boy was
unconscious, and no one knew who he was. She set his leg and
dressed his other wounds. Soon after, he developed a fever, and was
not lucid for some time. She didn’t like the idea of a vulnerable
young boy staying at the local hospital for the poor and indigent,
given the sanitary conditions of that particular place, so she
simply took care of him herself.”

Sophia exhaled in relief. “How
extraordinarily kind. Can we pay her for the expense?”

Miss Hamilton smiled. “It’s already
done.”

“
What happened next?”
Capshaw asked.

“
Eli regained consciousness
a couple of days ago. He wouldn’t tell her anything about
himself—remember, he thought you had washed your hands of him—and
she was at a loss. Fortunately, that’s when I found
them.”

“
Are you mad at me?” a
quavering voice whispered.

Eli, now awake, looked up anxiously at
Sophia.

Sophia stroked his hair. “No one is
angry with you. We never got the telegram. I’m sorry about
that.”

Eli smiled at her, then wiped his eyes
on his sleeve. “Miss ’amilton tole me. You still want to ’dopt
me?”

“
Of course,” Sophia said.
“But one rule: no more running off. If you have a problem, or
something bad happens, you come to us, right away. You aren’t alone
anymore.”

Eli nodded and struggled to sit up.
“I’m real sorry about not tellin’ you where I was, but I didn’ have
a chance.”

Capshaw squatted next to the boy. “I
know you gave Miss Hamilton an account of what happened, but I’d
like to hear it straight from you. Do you feel well enough to
talk?”