Unseemly Ambition (8 page)

“
Which I certainly will,”
Capshaw said grimly. Sophia had paled during Concordia’s narrative.
He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll
get to the bottom of this.” He turned back to Concordia. “Where is
she now?”

“
Staying at Mrs.
Hofferman’s boarding house. We couldn’t get any useful information
from her. She was spinning stories the whole time.”

“
We’ll see what we can do
about that,” Capshaw said mildly, although Concordia recognized a
steely glint in his eye that didn’t bode well for Mrs.
Tooey.

“
Can we go with you?”
Sophia asked anxiously.

Capshaw hesitated and looked at
Sophia. “I don’t suppose I could stop you, even if I were to
refuse?”

Sophia smiled and turned to Concordia.
“You see how smoothly a marriage can proceed when a husband and
wife have an understanding?”

Put out the light, and
then put out the light.

Othello
, V, ii.

Week 5, Instructor Calendar

March 1898

Although the trip was only six blocks,
the Saturday afternoon shopping traffic slowed them down. Concordia
perched on the seat’s edge the entire time, anxious to get this
over with. At last, they reached the boarding house.

“
We’d like to see Mrs.
Tooey,” Capshaw said to the maid.

She escorted them to the visiting
parlor, where the landlady allowed her boarders to receive company.
“I’ll let ’er know yer here.”

They waited. What was taking so long,
Concordia wondered, checking her watch.

The maid returned. “I’m sorry, but
she’s not answering, and ’er door’s locked. I suppose she’s out.”
She pursed her lips. “Funny, though. She said she was goin’ to lie
down ’cause she weren’t feeling well. I was sure she was still
here.”

Capshaw’s brow creased. “Fetch Mrs.
Hofferman.”

Soon the landlady came in, wiping her
flour-dusted hands on her apron. She eyed the group suspiciously.
“Wot d’yer want?” she demanded. “I’m all full up; no rooms to
let.”

“
We’re not here for rooms,”
Concordia said, interrupting Capshaw before he could identify
himself as a policeman. “We want to talk to our friend, Florence.
The maid thought she was in her room, but she’s not answering the
door. Please, we’re very concerned for her. Lately she has
been—unwell. Could you unlock the door, just so we can make sure
she’s all right?”

Mrs. Hofferman’s face softened. “Ah,
well, I suppose. As long as you don’t go in without me there,
mind.” She pulled out a ring of keys. “This way.”

They followed her up two flights of
narrow wooden back steps, probably what was originally a servant’s
staircase in the days when this was the affluent part of town.
Reaching the second door of the hallway, she tapped on
it.

“
Missus Tooey? Visitors for
ye!” she sang out. No answer. Capshaw nodded to the woman, who
reluctantly unlocked the door.

With a murmur of thanks, Capshaw
pushed open the door and went through first, Sophia and Concordia
right behind him, as the landlady brought up the rear.

Concordia gave a small
shriek as an all-too-familiar furry animal darted through her
skirts and ran out the door.
Eli’s
cat?

“
Land sakes!” the landlady
exclaimed, putting a hand to her mouth and pointing with the other
toward the bed.

Concordia turned and
gasped.

Florence Tooey lay on her back across
the thin mattress.

It was painfully obvious—by the purple
of her face, the open eyes staring at the ceiling, and the mark of
a red livid line around her neck—that she was dead.

Capshaw promptly pushed the ladies out
the door. “Do you have an errand lad here with quick feet?” he
asked the landlady. “Good. I’m a policeman—Lieutenant Capshaw.” He
pulled out his identification. “Send your messenger to the Pratt
Street station right away. Ask for Maloney. Tell him Capshaw needs
him, now.” He took in the sight of Concordia and Sophia, each pale
and gripping the other for support. “You two go back to the parlor
and wait for me. I expect a good strong cup of tea would do you all
some good, Mrs. Hofferman. Would you mind making some?”

The lady scurried off, while Sophia
and Concordia found their way back to the parlor.

“
Who do you suppose did
this? And why?” Sophia asked, her composure returning as she and
Concordia sat in the visiting parlor. Maloney had come within a few
minutes, and he and Capshaw were going through the murdered woman’s
room.

Concordia shook her head. “I could get
very little from Mrs. Tooey when I spoke with her last week. My
impression was of a woman with a troubled past. Perhaps that past
caught up with her?”

“
If so,” Sophia said, “why
now? And why here?”

That’s what worried
Concordia.
Why now? Why here?
The only variable she knew of was...Eli. She set
aside her cup. “I think we should talk to Eli.”

“
Now? Why not wait for
Aaron, and go together to break the news to the child?” Sophia
asked.

Concordia shook her head. The more she
thought about it, the more uneasy she became. Why was Eli’s cat in
the room with the dead woman? Something was wrong, and she had a
strong feeling that Eli was about to get caught up in it. “I want
to make sure he’s safe.”

Sophia gave her a wide-eyed look. “The
cat. This is somehow connected to Eli,” she whispered.

“
I don’t know, but sitting
here isn’t going to find that out for us,” Concordia pointed
out.

“
You’re right,” Sophia
said, with a decisive tilt of her chin. “Let’s go.”

After scribbling a note for Capshaw
and leaving it with a puzzled Mrs. Hofferman, Sophia and Concordia
made the brisk walk to Hartford Settlement House.

Week 5, Instructor Calendar

March 1898

“
Miss Adams! Er, I mean,
Mrs. Capshaw—it’s so nice to see you back,” the girl at the front
desk said eagerly. “I know Martha will be glad. Did you have a nice
trip?”

“
Can you get Martha for me?
And Eli, too?” Sophia said, urgency in her voice. There wasn’t time
for pleasantries.

The puzzled girl hesitated, then
hurried down the corridor.

It seemed an agony of waiting before
the girl located Martha, who greeted Sophia with an enthusiastic
hug. “Welcome back!” She turned to Concordia. “So good to see you,
too, dear. Now we can take care of that little problem—”

“
Unfortunately, Martha,
Mrs. Tooey is dead,” Concordia interrupted. “We went to the
boarding house to speak with her about Eli, but found
her…strangled.”

Martha paled and put her hands to her
bosom. “Dear heaven.”

“
Here, sit down.” Concordia
helped Martha onto a hall bench.

“
I’m all right,” Martha
said, taking a deep breath. “But how horrible. Do they know who did
it?”

“
It’s early yet,” Sophia
said. “Aaron’s investigating now.”

“
That poor woman,” Martha
murmured to herself. “I suppose we should tell Eli. As distressing
as the death might be to the child, at least he’ll have some peace
of mind in knowing he isn’t going away with her.” She stood and
gestured to the girl at the desk. “Can you fetch Eli?” She checked
her lapel watch. “Let me think...he should be in carpentry class.
We’ll wait in my office.” She nodded to the girl, who took
off.

“
We’ll be more
comfortable—and private—in here,” Martha said, with a quick glance
at the cleaning woman who had just entered the hall with mop and
bucket.

Once they were settled, Concordia
asked, “Had Eli seen Florence at all this week?”

Martha’s brow puckered in thought. “I
don’t believe so,” she said, “but that boy comes and goes at will,
more than I’m happy with. Even after a year of our care—and our
rules—he can’t seem to shake his harum-scarum habit of just going
where the mood strikes. He hears about a job delivering extra
papers, or taking over a shoelace stand for a sick boy, and he’s on
it like a flash. Not that I don’t admire his hard-working,
entrepreneurial spirit, but his studies are erratic, and he seems
quite restless. Lately, I’ve attributed that to the stress of
having a mother he never knew come back to fetch him.” She
sighed.

Concordia sympathized. Managing
wayward children and unstable families on a thin budget was no easy
task. Funds, room, and time were all out of favor in such an
endeavor.

The girl came back. “Master Bernard
says Eli never showed up, miss.”

Concordia sucked in a sharp breath.
“Has anyone seen him today? It’s very important we find
him.”

The girl pursed her lips and thought.
“I can ask Madge. She was at the front desk early this morning, and
might a’ seen him.”

“
Ask
everyone
,” Sophia urged. She had paled
again. Concordia wished she had smelling salts.

“
Yes, miss,” the girl said,
and ran out the door.

The three women looked at each other.
What could they do now?

Their unspoken thought was answered
when there was a brief knock and Capshaw walked in, red-faced. “I
thought I told you both to stay put,” he growled at Sophia and
Concordia. “I don’t need to walk all over creation to find
you.”

“
But we left word as to
where we would be,” Sophia said in mock-meekness, earning her a
sharp glance from her husband.

Maloney came in and stood by the door,
waiting.

“
What did you learn?”
Sophia asked.

Capshaw shook his head. “Not much. She
was strangled with a garroting wire.” He ran a distracted hand over
his head, making tufts of red hair stand on end. Concordia was
reminded of a Pomeranian with its hackles raised. He turned to
Martha. “Where’s Eli?”

“
We’re looking for him,”
Martha said.

“
The presence of his cat in
the room can only mean that he was there recently,” Capshaw said.
“More worrisome is that he left without the animal.”

“
What does it mean? Do you
think he witnessed the murder?” Concordia asked. She stood, too
restless to sit.

“
I don’t know, but I want
to find Eli and be assured he’s safe.” Capshaw fingered his
mustache. “I have a bad feeling about this. Whatever this woman’s
past, her attempt to take Eli with her seems to have spurred
someone to act.”

“
So Eli could have been
taken by whoever killed Florence,” Sophia said in
despair.

The girl from the front desk came in
at that moment.

“
Ma’am,” the girl said
nervously, “no one’s seen ’im since this morning. And no one knows
where he was going. Should I keep asking?”

“
Yes, dear,” Martha said.
“It’s urgent that we find him.”

Capshaw turned to Maloney. “Check the
grocer’s, the women’s college, and the newspaper stand on Main and
Church. Those are his usual places to earn a nickel. Take a couple
of patrolmen to help you search. Also check the infirmaries nearby,
just in case. The boy is about so high—” he held his hand up to
chest-level “—black curly hair, pale complexion, freckles. Thin.”
He turned to Martha. “Do you know what clothes he was wearing this
morning?”

Martha mutely shook her
head.

“
Ah, well, that should be
enough to start. Find him, sergeant,” he said to Mahoney. “I’m
personally counting upon you.”

With a quick nod, Maloney
left.

What, in your own part,
can you say to this?

Othello
, I.iii

Week 5, Instructor Calendar

March 1898

Not even the busy routine of campus
life was enough over the next few days to distract Concordia from
her worry over Eli. Sophia sent her daily messages, but there was
little news to report.

Concordia tried pushing her
fears to the back of her mind as she spent the evening grading
student essays on
Paradise
Lost
. She clucked her tongue at some of the
silliest opening sentences that she had seen in a long
while.

Milton was a blind poet,
which made it quite difficult to write
Paradise Lost
, even though he asked
for sight in the beginning of the story.

Paradise Lost
is about Satan being happy in hell, and trying to
get Adam and Eve to join him. He does so through the weaker of the
two, Eve.

Really? Concordia rolled her eyes.
These ninny answers came from the young ladies of Miss Smedley’s
social set, who had apparently taken her cue in neglecting their
work.