Unseemly Ambition (33 page)

The chief waved him out. “Close the
door. I have reports to write. I don’t want to be interrupted for
the rest of the morning.”

After the brief surge of adrenalin
wore off, Capshaw’s footsteps were heavy and slow as he turned
toward the settlement house. He wanted to see Sophia and break the
news to her before she heard it from someone else.

His chest tightened at the thought of
telling her that he had been fired from the only job he loved, a
livelihood that they depended upon.

But what tugged at him the most was
the lie. Sophia was so forthright, and trusted him to be the same.
And he had been. If the matter was confidential and he couldn’t
share it with her, he would say so, and she respected
that.

Now, he had to convey the devastating
news that he had lost his job, when he hadn’t been fired at all.
What would it do to her? How could he maintain the
pretense?

And yet, their lives—including the
chief’s, now—depended upon keeping secret the plan the chief had
proposed.

“
It’s crucial that everyone
be convinced I’ve fired you,” Chief Stiles had said, after Capshaw
told him all he knew about the Inner Circle and how the group was
connected to the deaths of Florence Willoughby and Ben Rosen, to
the attack on Eli, to the trolley incident that had sent Concordia
and Miss Hamilton to the hospital, and to the aborted assassination
at the hospital. “Except for Isley and Dunwick, we have no idea who
belongs to the Inner Circle, correct? We need to learn more,
without anyone catching on. Otherwise, we could all be in danger.
Both your investigation and mine must be very quietly done. I’ll
use my contacts in the Black Scroll to find out what I can about
the Inner Circle. You must find Hitchcock.”

Capshaw had agreed. What choice did he
have? Yet, he felt a prickle of doubt. What if this was, in fact, a
very cunning strategy on the part of the chief, inventing this
scheme to make Capshaw believe that something was being done? What
if the chief was a member of the Inner Circle after all?

There was one precaution he could
take. He ran up the steps of the settlement house and sent a girl
to fetch Sophia. He waited impatiently in the hall, going over what
he would say to her.

“
Aaron!” Sophia exclaimed,
coming toward him. Her cheeks were flushed and strands of hair had
slipped from their pins. Capshaw’s heart twisted.

She laughed and reached back to tidy
her hair. “What a lovely surprise. I’m a bit mussed after playing
hoops with the children.” When he said nothing, she gave him a
penetrating look. “Something’s wrong.”

Capshaw pulled her to the far corner
of the hallway. “There is. I want you and Eli to pack your
things.”

Week 12, Instructor
Calendar

May 1898

Concordia was happy to return to
Willow Cottage, although when David brought her back from the
hospital, Miss Jenkins summarily put her to bed. Concordia was too
exhausted from the events of the past three days to put up much of
a protest. It had taken all of her energy to insist to Mother that
she would be perfectly fine recuperating at her college
residence.

Before she retired, however, she
couldn’t help but notice the special attention the girls paid to
David.

“
Oh, Mr. Bradley!” one girl
exclaimed. “Don’t leave us so soon. Ruby has made tea, and her
scones are divine. Won’t you stay?”

With a sideways grin at Concordia,
David had agreed. Concordia, of course, knew the young ladies would
pump him for information about the engagement and future wedding
plans.

Miraculously, word of her engagement
had not spread. She learned after the fact that Ruby had sat the
girls down and sternly sworn them to secrecy until such time that
Miss Wells decided to give them leave to talk about it. Concordia
was touched by the respect for her privacy. So far the girls had
been true to their word, not even speaking of it to the rest of
their cottage-mates. Which was a marvel in itself.

So she didn’t begrudge them a bit of
wedding talk with David. He’d have little to tell, anyway, since
they hadn’t yet discussed the matter in any depth. Concordia
skipped the tea party and went to bed, falling asleep almost as
soon as her head touched the pillow.

After a day of bed rest, Concordia was
ready to resume her classes.

Miss Jenkins, however, was having none
of it. “You are recuperating rapidly, I grant you. But I’d like to
see you rest a bit longer. Miss Crandall is doing a splendid job
with your classes. Why not let her finish out the week, and then
you can return?”

There was some sense to that.
Concordia nodded. “Would you mind asking her to stop by today,
after the Shakespeare class? I’d like to go over some things.”
Including how to approach her aunt, Lady Dunwick.

“
Of course. But one more
thing,” Miss Jenkins added sternly. “No bicycle riding for another
week.”

Concordia sighed as she glanced
through the window at the sparkling May morning. “It never entered
my mind.”

When Charlotte arrived, Concordia
brought her straight into her study and closed the door. Charlotte
raised an eyebrow at Concordia’s somber look but said
nothing.

“
I don’t know what I would
have done without you,” Concordia began. “I cannot think of a
better substitute teacher for my classes.”

Charlotte turned a pretty pink. “I’ve
been happy to, Miss Wells. I’ve missed teaching.”

Concordia was silent for a moment,
then decided to dive right in. “I have another favor to
ask.”

Charlotte leaned forward.
“Yes?”

“
Could you arrange for us
to pay a call on your aunt in the next few days?”

“
Of course,” Charlotte
said. “Aunt Susan likes you. I’m sure she would enjoy a visit.” She
gave Concordia a sharp look. “But this is not a social call, is it?
There’s more going on.”

Concordia hesitated. She had
confidence in Charlotte’s discretion, but she was reluctant to
involve the girl too deeply. The danger was real.

“
You can trust me,”
Charlotte prompted. “I’d be better able to help if I know what I’m
dealing with.”

“
You’re right, of course,”
Concordia said. “But there’s some risk to involving you.” She
touched the small bandage at her temple. “This was not an
accident.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened, but she
otherwise sat, quite composed. “You may have noticed that you’ve
already involved me,” she pointed out.

Drat
. The girl’s logic was impeccable.

“
You must promise you won’t
share what I’m about to tell you. With anyone,” Concordia
warned.

Charlotte nodded.

Concordia described the discovery of a
secret society that called itself the Noble Order of the Black
Scroll, along with the existence of the dangerous “Inner Circle”
within it, succinctly recounting what had happened thus far.
Concordia left out the names of Randolph Maynard and Barton Isley,
as well as Charlotte’s uncle. She wasn’t sure Charlotte could act
normally around these men if she knew.

Charlotte listened with rapt
attention. “So you think that visiting my aunt will help you learn
more about this Inner Circle, because she’s a member of the
Daughters of the Black Scroll?”

Concordia gave a start.
“You
know
about
your aunt’s involvement with the group?”

“
Of course. I understood it
to be a charitable club—a sister group to the men’s organization.
I’ve been invited to join as well.”

Perfect
. This could be the opening they needed.

“
I had no idea the men’s
group was engaged in something sordid,” Charlotte went on. “I’m not
so sure I wish to join.”

“
It’s the secret splinter
group within the brotherhood that’s dangerous,” Concordia said.
“However, some tenets of the Black Scroll—notably, the oaths of
secrecy and helping a fellow brother
without question
—have been twisted to
suit the purposes of the Inner Circle. Miss Hamilton is convinced
that the general membership is unaware of its
existence.”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes, puzzled.
“How is Miss Hamilton involved? Why was she targeted at the trolley
stop?”

Concordia had forgotten that Charlotte
didn’t know about Miss Hamilton’s line of work. There was no way to
delicately explain it. “She’s a Pinkerton,” she said
simply.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow
in disbelief. “She’s a…
what?
You mean a detective?”

Concordia nodded.

“
Amazing,” Charlotte
murmured. “I didn’t know there was such a thing as a lady
detective.”

“
Miss Hamilton is...one of
a kind,” Concordia said.

“
So she’s been
investigating,” Charlotte asked. “Did she learn why they killed
Florence Willoughby?”

“
We’re fairly certain that
Florence had been blackmailing the group, and was a threat to their
plans.”

“
Do you know what those
plans are?” Charlotte asked.

Concordia explained about the scrap
from the dynamite wrapper.

Charlotte’s mouth formed a
silent
o
. “I can
see the urgency,” she said, after a pause. “How about Monday? Aunt
Susan and I have already arranged to lunch together. I’m sure she
won’t mind a third to our party. I can send a note ‘round to
her.”

“
Excellent,” Concordia
said. “In the meanwhile, let’s figure out what we tell
her.”

The two settled in and made their
plans.

Where is that viper? bring
the villain forth.

Othello
, V.ii

Week 12, Instructor
Calendar

May 1898

It was with a heavy heart that Capshaw
put his wife and Eli on the train south to Washington, where Sophia
had a friend they could stay with for a while. He had work to do,
and now his mind was clearer, knowing they were safe.

He felt the eyes upon him as he made
his way back from the station to his house. He recognized the slim
youth, casually leaning against the street lamp at the far end of
the block as he smoked a tiny stub of a cigarette. No change of cap
and jacket could hide the fact that he’d been at the same post the
previous evening.

But Capshaw had been at the game too
long not to have a few tricks of his own.

Once inside his home, he drew the
blinds and made sure all of the windows and doors were locked.
Sadie and the cleaning woman had been given the next two weeks off.
He was alone in the house. He turned out all the lights, except for
the lantern he carried into his windowless dressing
closet.

In the dim light he shaved off his
mustache and clumsily trimmed his flaming-red hair as short as he
could, until it was easily concealed under a tweed cap. His
startled reflection in the shaving mirror above the washstand
assured him that the spies would have a hard time recognizing him
now.

Capshaw pulled out a rucksack. He
wouldn’t need to bring much. Money, a change of personal linen, a
pocketknife, his notes on the case, a pencil. He dressed in older
clothes, frayed at the cuffs and knees, and pulled on broken-in
boots with worn heels. It was the nondescript attire of a man a bit
down on his luck but otherwise hard-working.

He snuffed the lantern and groped his
way down to the kitchen. He stopped to wrap a couple of bread
slices and a slab of ham in a kerchief, stuffing it in his bag for
later. In the dark, he carefully opened the back door a
crack.

The Inner Circle was thorough. Beyond
the rows of neighboring clotheslines, Capshaw could see the faint
glow of a cigarette ash as a second man stood watch. Fortunately,
the observer had no choice but take a position farther away. The
Capshaws’ rear yard adjoined their neighbors at both the back and
sides, save for a short alleyway blocked for the night by the local
vegetable seller’s wagon.

Capshaw hunched over and slipped
outside, crouching behind a rubbish bin. He waited, then cautiously
peeked around the bin. He could see the pinprick of light from the
watcher’s cigarette, unchanged in position.

Capshaw scooted close to the fence
line, crossed into the alley, and squeezed past the wagon. He
settled the rucksack more comfortably for the long walk to Widow
Murtry’s, a boarding house well out of his precinct. It was a place
where Capshaw could be reasonably sure no one would recognize him.
He’d learned that Mrs. Murtry cooked a decent meal, took cash, and
asked no questions.

But first, he would pay a visit to
Miss Hamilton. He needed her help if his plan was to
succeed.

It was an easy matter to slip in
through a hospital side door and climb the employee stairs without
being discovered. Just before entering the corridor that led to
Miss Hamilton’s room, Capshaw hesitated in the shadows. He’d
forgotten about the patrolman guarding the lady’s door. Now he
wished he hadn’t disguised himself before coming here.