Unseemly Ambition (28 page)

David shook his head. “I don’t want
you part of this any more. The risk is too great.”

“
I can’t pull out now.
There is still a danger to Eli.” If she were honest with herself,
she knew a big part of her reluctance to walk away was that she
could not abide being bullied. It stung her pride.

“
The Capshaws and Miss
Hamilton can protect the boy. They don’t need you for that,” David
said.

But Concordia wasn’t
listening. Why was she getting this note
now
? She hadn’t been an active part of
the investigation since she and Miss Hamilton had hired Mr. Rosen
to inquire about the Inner Circle. Rosen had been killed a week
later, during the spring recess. Wouldn’t they be satisfied now
that their secret was safe?

Ah
.
Capshaw had come to Willow Cottage yesterday. Although his visit
didn’t have anything to do with the Inner Circle, perhaps someone
thought otherwise. A person who was a regular on campus. Isley?
Maynard?

David paused. “You’re not attending to
me, at all.”

“
Oh! I’m sorry, David. What
were you saying?”

David took her hand in his.
“Concordia, if you care anything for me, you will cease to play a
part in this investigation. First the dynamite wrapper, and now
this. It’s too dangerous. I’m telling you to stop.”

David’s dark brown eyes, usually so
open and warm, were narrowed in anger. She pulled her hand away. “I
will not,” she said firmly. “I’m sorry.” She turned
away.

“
Then you will do it alone.
I will no longer be a party to it.” David stalked to the door,
flinging it open.

Week 10, Instructor
Calendar

April 1898

“
No, I will speak as
liberal as the north:

Let heaven and men and
devils, let them all,

All, all, cry shame
against me, yet I’ll speak.”

Miss Roth, otherwise known as Emilia,
wife of the villain Iago, delivered her lines with all the energy
of a long-deceived woman who has finally seen the truth. Concordia
nodded in approval from her seat in the audience. Mrs. Isley had
done a splendid job with them. For all the woman’s frivolous ways,
she certainly knew her stagecraft.

All in all, the dress rehearsal was
going well, especially with Charlotte Crandall out behind the
stage, helping students into their costumes and out upon the set on
cue. There had been a few snags, of course. Several minor players
forgot where they were supposed to stand, upstaging other
characters. Iago tripped over her too-long cloak. And although Lily
Isley executed her lines beautifully as the much-maligned
Desdemona, she seemed to have trouble lying still once she was
supposed to be dead.

But all of that would be worked out by
next week. She hoped.

Concordia was roused by the smattering
of applause as the dress rehearsal came to a close.

Now she was free to run her
errand.

In case her movements on campus were
being noted, Concordia had decided the best way to talk to Capshaw
about the note was to visit him and Sophia at their residence. She
had obtained permission from Miss Pomeroy to miss dinner after the
dress rehearsal. She wouldn’t want to incur Maynard’s wrath
again.

Sophia answered the door herself, her
apron on. “Concordia! What a pleasant surprise. Eli will be
thrilled to see you. Would you like to join us for supper? It’s
almost ready.”

Concordia nodded. “Can I talk to your
husband first?” She didn’t want to bring up the note in dinner
conversation, especially in front of Eli.

Sophia gestured to the
parlor as a kitchen timer
dinged
. “He’s reading the paper. If
you’ll excuse me, I have to rescue the shepherd’s pie.”

Capshaw stood as Concordia walked into
the room. He regarded her closely and cleared a litter of
newspapers from a wing chair. “Sit. What has happened?”

Concordia held out the slip of
paper.

Capshaw scowled over the note. “Where
was this?”

Concordia explained David finding the
note among the flowers. “I thought at first the flowers had come
from President Langdon. Sometimes, when he’s trimming back his
garden, he’ll donate blooms to the staff or the dining hall. But he
certainly didn’t write this.”

“
I assume you talked to Mr.
Langdon?” Capshaw asked.

Concordia nodded. “I asked everyone
with offices in that corridor; no one claimed to have put flowers
on my desk or to have seen anyone near my office. Of course, I
didn’t mention the note.”

Capshaw gave her one of his melancholy
looks. “It looks as if the Inner Circle has become more active on
campus. Very disturbing. Do you mind if I keep this?” At
Concordia’s nod, he tucked it into his pocket. “I would take the
warning seriously, miss. It’s time to leave this to the
professionals. Miss Hamilton is making progress, and I am helping
her behind the scenes. We should have the case resolved
soon.”

Concordia leaned forward in interest.
“What has she learned? When will she return?”

Capshaw rolled his eyes.
“You college ladies suffer from incorrigible curiosity. She sent a
short telegram to say she’s solved the mystery of the cuff links,
and has a lead on the wrapper. Of course, she couldn’t go into
particulars, but she’s due back in a few days. No doubt she will
fill you in on the details soon after that, but I insist on having
the
first
conversation with her.”

Sophia poked her head in the doorway.
“Supper is ready.”

Capshaw put a hand to Concordia’s arm
as she got up. “Remember, stay out of it.”

All through the dinner
conversation—which centered around Eli’s progress in his studies,
his healing leg, and his new interest in whittling—Concordia kept
thinking about what David—and now Capshaw—had said.
Stay out of it. The risk is too great. I’m telling
you to stop.

Perhaps they were right, although she
didn’t like it. Not at all. The thought of someone malevolent,
either the killer himself or someone who knew and condoned such
behavior, walking into her office, touching her things, leaving the
note—bizarrely accompanied by flowers—made her shudder. Who was
this man? The sooner they had answers, the better.

Week 11, Instructor
Calendar

May 1898

At last, Capshaw sent word that Miss
Hamilton had returned to Hartford. Soon afterward she heard from
the lady herself, arranging to meet at Mrs. Gilly’s Tea
Shop.

Concordia saw her before she was even
halfway down Canton Street. The tall woman of flawless posture, her
graying-blonde hair smoothly tucked under a stylish hat of melon
green, the elegant tilt of her head…Miss Hamilton was unmistakable
in a crowd. Just the sight of her felt reassuring. Heaven only knew
where they would be without her aid in this affair.

They sat at one of the outdoor tables
under the striped awning, taking in the sight of passersby as they
sipped their tea and shared a lemon tart.

Concordia felt some of the tension
drain away as she sat. As eager as she was for Miss Hamilton’s
news, she took a moment to let the world pass in front of her.
Worries about her students, her classes, and her fiancé faded as
she fixed upon the dappled sunshine on the sidewalk, the babies
pushed in their carriages, and the profusion of ladies carrying
brightly-frilled parasols.

Penelope Hamilton, however, was
ill-disposed to sit idle. She cleared her throat. “Capshaw showed
me the note from your office.”

Concordia nodded, pulling herself back
into the game of detection once again. “I haven’t been able to
determine who left it.”

“
I agree with Capshaw that
the Inner Circle is a strong presence on campus now,” Miss Hamilton
said. “When I returned to my guest quarters at DeLacey House, I
found that my belongings had been thoroughly searched.”

Concordia started. “You think it was
Isley or Maynard?” she whispered.

Miss Hamilton shrugged. “Probably.
That’s why I wanted to meet you here. I’ve already moved my things
to a hotel. One cannot be too careful.”

Concordia suppressed her
disappointment. Miss Hamilton had been the only other person on
campus who knew what was going on. She would miss her being right
nearby. But of course, the precaution was a necessary
one.

“
What did you learn about
the Black Scroll during your trip?” Concordia asked.

The lady leaned in and dropped her
voice. “I’ve investigated secret societies before, but the Noble
Order of the Black Scroll is a particularly close-mouthed group. On
the surface, it seems to be a charitable organization, justifying
its secret nature as the necessity of anonymous philanthropy.
Indeed, recipients such as Hartford Settlement House have benefited
lately from a number of anonymous donors. I’ve learned that the
Black Scroll was behind that.”

“
While secrecy for the
‘greater good’ is not so terrible, the explosives wrapper we found
certainly points to something...” Concordia searched for the word
“...evil.”

Miss Hamilton plucked
absent-mindedly at the gaily-checkered napkin in her lap. “Secrecy
is a double-edged sword, hiding villainous deeds as well as
benevolent ones. And then there’s the issue of
who
determines the ‘greater good’—one
man’s good could be another man’s bane.”

“
Yes, of course,” Concordia
agreed. “Even when men are convinced that their motives are pure,
many barbarous things have been done in the name of justice, or
Providence. The Crusades and the Inquisition are examples of
that.”

“
Exactly,” Miss Hamilton
said.

“
What else did you learn?”
Concordia asked.

“
I’ve discovered the three
binding principles of the Brotherhood that every member must
unconditionally agree to upon joining: to do charitable works; to
never reveal that he is a member—or that anyone he knows is a
member; and to help a brother in need, no matter what the
circumstances.”

“
The last two tenets do
seem worrisome,” Concordia said.

Miss Hamilton nodded. “And really, it
isn’t the general membership of the Brotherhood that troubles me.
It’s this rogue organization within the heart of the Black Scroll.
My source couldn’t find any indication that the general membership
is aware of its existence.”

“
Lieutenant Capshaw’s
police chief must be a Brother,” Concordia said. “Was the
Brotherhood’s obedience rule used to compel him to remove Capshaw
from the case?”

Miss Hamilton swatted at a stray fly.
“I expect so. No doubt the Circle felt that Capshaw was getting too
close to learning about them.”

“
Then members of the Inner
Circle—” Concordia began.

“—
need only invoke the
rules of the brotherhood to get the cooperation of others, with no
one the wiser. Those not in the Circle would believe the motives
and actions to be as benevolent as their own, when that may be far
from the case.”

“
Do we at least know the
members of the Black Scroll?” Concordia asked.

Miss Hamilton smiled. “Thanks to the
conversation you overheard at Barton Isley’s dinner party, I had a
start, but it has been slow-going. I’ve acquired a partial list of
members, any of whom could also belong to the Inner Circle. You
know some of these.” She ticked off a list on her gloved fingers.
“Barton Isley, Sir Anthony Dunwick, Republican Candidate Sanders,
Robert Flynn, Randolph Maynard, Police Chief Stiles, and several
Willoughbys, Florence’s father and each of her three brothers. We
know for sure that Isley is associated with the Inner Circle, and
that Sir Anthony had been approached to join them. Based upon the
jeweler’s information, we’re guessing that the Inner Circle is a
very small group, consisting of six members, with a seventh on the
way.”

Concordia should not have been
surprised by the list, but the idea of Robert Flynn being a Black
Scroll member made her uneasy. Should she say something to her
mother? Yet he struck her as an outsider, the Irishman with his
quaint turns of phrase.

Then she realized Miss Hamilton had
skipped over something. “What do you mean, ‘jeweler’s
information’?” Concordia asked.

“
Ah, yes, I forgot that
part,” Miss Hamilton said. “I tracked down the jeweler’s shop where
the cufflinks had been made. Five sets of cufflinks had been
commissioned, along with the pin you’d found. Oh, and an additional
cufflink set has just been ordered,” she added.

“
Sir Anthony,” Concordia
said. So he had decided to join the Inner Circle, after all. She
wondered what his niece, Charlotte Crandall, would think of that if
she knew.

“
That seems a safe
assumption, as is the notion that these were intended for Inner
Circle members,” Miss Hamilton said.