A Gilded Grave Read online

  “The oriel,” Deanna said. “Cassie and I always looked down at the dancing from there.”

  “We saw you dancing with that Lord David. You were so beautiful and he was so handsome, and I said to Daisy, ‘There’s a gentleman worthy of my mistress.’”

  Deanna blushed.

  “And Daisy leaned closer to the window to see. So close I was afraid someone might see her, and I started to pull her back, but she pushed away and said she had something she had to do. She ran off, and I really was afraid Mrs. Woodruff had seen her and would scold her, so I followed after her.”

  The brush had stopped, and Elspeth caught Deanna’s eye in the mirror.

  “When I came down the back stairs, I couldn’t find her. I never saw her again.”

  “But why was she out by the cliff, Elspeth? What reason could she possibly have to go there?”

  Elspeth shrugged. “Someone must have sent her.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “I don’t know. They say she done it to herself, but she would never. Poor Orrin. He had his heart set on marrying Daisy. Now what will he do?”

  Deanna didn’t want to think about what Madeline had suggested, that Daisy had found herself enceinte and had jumped to her death. She certainly didn’t want to suggest such a notion to Elspeth. And as for Orrin—well, it was preposterous.

  “Joe will help him through this.” He’d always been a compassionate and caring friend, though lately Deanna had begun to feel she didn’t know him at all.

  Impulsively, she turned in her seat and put her arms around Elspeth’s waist. “The police will find whoever did it and punish him.”

  The door opened.

  “Deanna, just what is going on here?”

  The two girls broke apart.

  Mrs. Randolph stepped into the room and flicked a dismissive look at Elspeth. “You may go.”

  Elspeth made a quick curtsey and fled to the dressing room.

  Deanna stood to face her mother.

  “Well?” Mrs. Randolph asked.

  “Elspeth was upset. Daisy, the girl who died, was engaged to her brother.”

  “I’ve warned you about this before. Once you let servants become too familiar, you’ve ruined them. I’ll have to let her go.”

  Deanna stared at her mother. She was strict, especially when it came to advancing her daughters in society, always talking about missteps and the importance of propriety. But she wasn’t heartless.

  “Mama, she’s grieving.”

  “We all grieve at one time or another. We carry on.”

  Like when Bob died. Her mother had been stoical, and Deanna had been too bereft herself to wonder what her mother was feeling beneath her calm façade.

  “Well, she’s carrying on the best she can.” Deanna noticed her ruined dancing pumps still sitting on the floor; she moved in front of them. “I’m going to ask Father to give her tomorrow afternoon off for family reasons.”

  “Are you indeed? I hardly see why that is necessary. That girl had no business being out at night by herself. I’m sorry for her, but really, if she hadn’t been where she shouldn’t, she wouldn’t be dead, now, would she?”

  “Mama!” Why was everyone so ready to accuse Daisy of wrongdoing?

  “Learn proper behavior, or the girl goes.”

  “She’s the only maid I’ll have.” Deanna heard the words as they came out of her mouth, appalled that she couldn’t stop them.

  Instead of anger, her mother laughed. “Oh, really, Deanna, you should show as much gumption toward your inferiors.”

  Deanna managed not to snap, “Elspeth is not my inferior”—she could imagine how her mother would react to that statement. So she just stood silently while her mother gave her a final stern look and left the room. Now Deanna was in disgrace. Her mother would complain to her father, and he would tell Deanna that her mother was disappointed in her, and then she would feel terrible because it would sound like he was disappointed in her, too.

  Elspeth’s head appeared around the doorframe.

  Deanna motioned her into the room. “Don’t worry, Elspeth. If you go, I’ll go, too.”

  “Don’t say such things. If I lose my job, I’ll go back to the Fifth and you’ll forget me.”

  “Never.”

  “Get into bed, miss. You must be tired.”

  Deanna nodded. “I think no story tonight.”

  Elspeth shook her head. “Stupid stories. Good doesn’t win over evil. If it did, Daisy wouldn’t be dead.”

  Deanna wanted to tell her she was wrong. But tonight, Deanna was afraid that evil was among them. And she wasn’t sure if good would have a chance.

  Chapter

  4

  Joe was up before daybreak the next morning. He hadn’t slept well. Seeing Deanna had been one thing, but Grandmère was right. The way he’d treated her had been infamous. And his conscience was bothering him.

  Nor was he looking forward to the talk he would have to have with his apprentice later that morning. Hopefully, whatever had upset Daisy was merely a lover’s quarrel and not an unexpected addition to the family.

  He carried a steaming mug of coffee to his drafting room and office in the front part of the warehouse he was calling home. He’d converted the space from former offices and closed it off from the larger workspace, where he and Orrin spent hours a day perfecting and troubleshooting the various machines Joe had designed. He’d nearly finished a prototype for a bagging machine that would fill paper bags with granules of sugar, then fold and seal the tops, but there were still a few kinks to work out.

  He’d rolled up his sleeves, sat down at the table, and reached for a pencil and protractor when there was a knock at the door. Too early for Orrin. Too early for anyone.

  He went to the door, looked out the dirty window. A uniform? He opened the door.

  Will Hennessey stood in the cobbled street. A large man, Will was stooped this morning as if he’d been working most of the night. Joe hoped it wasn’t bad news.

  Will, Joe, and Bob Randolph had become fast friends at Yale. When Bob continued in business and Joe went on to study engineering, Will became interested in the science of forensics. He’d joined the Newport police force, where he could use his new interest to advantage. In a few short years, he had been promoted to sergeant.

  Joe opened the door wider and stepped back. “Will. What brings you here?”

  “Nothing good, I’m afraid.” He held up a preemptory hand. “Nothing to do with the Ballard family.”

  “Then who?”

  “Your apprenticen Orrin O’Laren.”

  “You’d better come in. I just brewed coffee. I’ll get you a cup.”

  “Thanks.”

  Will followed him into the “kitchen” Joe had constructed. It had water laid on, and he’d adapted an old Acme range to gas—much faster than waiting for the wood stove to create enough heat to boil water.

  Will took his cup and followed Joe back to the office. Joe sat and Will pulled up a chair facing him.

  “So, what’s this about Orrin? Is he in some kind of trouble?”

  “I hope not.”

  “That sounds ominous. What’s happened?”

  Will leaned back in the chair. “We were called to the Francis Woodruff ball last night.”

  Joe had started to drink, but he put his mug down. “Why?” What could this possibly have to do with his apprentice?

  “The body of a young woman was found on the rocks below the walk there.”

  Cold fear ran through Joe’s veins. “Who?” Not Deanna.

  “It was a maid of the house. One Daisy Payne.”

  “Daisy? Good God.” Joe ran his hand down his face. “She’s Orrin’s sweetheart.”

  “I’d like to speak to him.”

  “He hasn’t come in yet. I told him we’d h
ave a late start because I was at the Woodruff ball myself last night.”

  “I didn’t see you there.”

  “I left early.” He started to tell Will that he’d seen Daisy as he was leaving but held back. He wanted to know more about what had happened first. If it was an accident, there was no reason to suggest anything, other than to tell Orrin that his intended was dead. “Did you inform her family?”

  “Yes. I just came from there. Very cut up about it. Of course, who wouldn’t be? They loved their daughter—and depended on her salary. To add insult to injury, I can’t return the body to them until the coroner finishes with her.”

  “The coroner? Is there some doubt about how she died?”

  “Yes,” Will said. “It isn’t a steep drop at Seacrest, just tiers of scattered boulders. It’s unlikely she would have slipped and fallen to her death. Maybe broken an arm or leg, but . . .”

  “You suspect foul play?”

  “Very possibly. The girl was a devout Catholic, and the family swore she’d never kill herself. Suicide is a mortal sin.”

  Joe nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. But there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Will sipped his coffee, then held it in both hands and stared into the cup as if he could find the answers to his questions there. “Joe, between you and me, it looks like murder. Her neck was broken, but not necessarily by the fall. There were bruises.” He sighed. “I’ll have to wait for the autopsy results, but I think they could have been inflicted before she fell.”

  “There were over a hundred people at the ball—who would kill a girl where anyone might see? While people were probably out on the terrace or strolling through the grounds?”

  “The same thought occurred to me, but you never know what people will do. Bad business, this. I’ll need to talk to Orrin.”

  “You think Orrin killed her? He loved her. Wanted to marry her.”

  “Maybe they jumped the gun. And it scared him off.”

  Here it was. The obvious conclusion, that Orrin had gotten her pregnant. Joe had wondered that himself. It could easily be true. Loose morals weren’t the sole propriety of the upper classes. But he didn’t believe it. You couldn’t work side by side with a man every day without learning his mettle.

  “I thought more of you, Will.”

  “As well you should. Just because it is the most obvious scenario doesn’t mean it’s the correct one.”

  “Most wouldn’t look further than the obvious.”

  Will gave him a penetrating look. “I’m not most. But I still need to question him.” He stood, carried his cup over to the sink. “There’s more.”

  Joe waited, expecting the worst.

  “We think there was a letter.”

  “She left a note? I thought you were ruling out suicide.”

  “Actually, a witness found an envelope in her hand.”

  “Who?” He hoped Deanna hadn’t seen any of this, though he had no doubt she would have come out to see what the commotion was about.

  “A man named Vladimir Howe.”

  “Ah, Vlady. An envelope. And the letter?”

  “The envelope was empty. We searched the area and her room.” Will held out one hand. “Nothing.”

  “So what are you getting at? Someone sent her a letter to entice her outside?”

  “We’re not sure it was addressed to Daisy. There’s writing, but as yet it’s unreadable because of the ocean spray. I’ll study it under the magnifier after it’s dried and cleaned, but the first letter looks like it might be an ‘O.’”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Not yet. I interviewed several of the servants. No one had seen her since earlier that evening. She was an upstairs maid; it’s possible that she was kept busy in the withdrawing rooms. Or that she’d already sneaked out of the house. Do you know where Orrin was last night?”

  “No.” Joe swallowed. “But I know he didn’t meet Daisy. I saw her last night.”

  Will’s jaw went slack.

  “Not in the way you’re imagining. Really, Will.”

  “Sorry. Not much surprises me these days. But that would.”

  “As I was leaving, Daisy was coming out of the servants’ gate.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Fairly early, before midnight for certain. People began arriving for the ball a little before ten. I only stayed at the ball for about an hour after that.”

  “Why so early?”

  “I only went to stand in for my father, who couldn’t get away from business in Manhattan.”

  “Hmm. So you were leaving the ball and what happened?”

  “I saw Daisy and stopped her. She seemed very agitated and said that she needed to talk to Orrin. I, of course, jumped to the natural conclusion. I told her it was too dangerous to go out alone, asked if it could wait until the morning, that I would send Orrin down to her then. I wanted to give myself time to have a little talk with Orrin about doing his duty just in case she was in the family way.”

  “You think it was a possibility?” Will said.

  “I don’t know. I suppose. I sent her back to the house. I should have just taken her to see him. If I had, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “Or it would have happened at some other time.” Will traced the rim of his cap between two fingers. “Joe, if you had any other relationship with this maid, tell me now.”

  “I did not. I was concerned because she was the sweetheart of my apprentice. That’s all.”

  Will drank off his coffee and stood. “Fine. I have to go, but keep Orrin here until I return. It might be late. I also have to question those present on the lawn last night. Something I’m not looking forward to. I don’t expect much cooperation. Just so you know, Deanna Randolph will be one of them.”

  “Deanna? Why on earth?”

  “She was one of the party who discovered the body.”

  Joe groaned. “She would be.”

  Will smiled. “She was out on the lawn when I arrived. She looked amazing in a gold ball gown. I hardly recognized her. Seems like she changed from wearing pigtails and badgering us to death into being a very beautiful woman overnight. You’re a fool, man, not to marry her before someone steals her away.”

  Joe laughed drily. “And have her live here with me? I’m sure her mother would have something to say to that.”

  “And you wouldn’t give this up for her?”

  Joe looked around. “This particular workshop?” He shrugged. “But my work? No.”

  “Not even for Deanna? I thought you and she—”

  “She wouldn’t respect me if I did.”

  Will shrugged. “Most men would jump at the chance.”

  “You?”

  “If you think her mother doesn’t approve of you, just imagine me showing up at the door.”

  “Well, it’s academic. The families decided our marriage would be a good business move in the fight against the sugar monopoly. Neither one of us was ready.”

  “You might have missed your chance.”

  “Maybe. I don’t think we’re destined for each other.”

  “Oh, brother.” Will adjusted his cap. “You’ll have to break the news to Orrin about Daisy, I guess. Tell him I’ll be back to speak with him. Make sure he doesn’t run away. And Joe . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “The same goes for you.”

  Breakfast in the Randolph household the next morning was a somber affair. Her father sat at one end of the breakfast room table reading his morning newspaper, the plate of eggs and ham growing cold before him. Her mother, dressed in a dark rose silk morning dress with alternating green and indigo ribbon-weave satin stripes, sat at the other end.

  The chair opposite Deanna was empty. Adelaide was still down with her headache.

  “Well,” De
anna’s mother said, “talk about a disastrous night. Poor Eleanor. The Woodruffs will be lucky if they’re not social outcasts for the season. Maybe longer. Not that I’m at all surprised.”

  Mr. Randolph’s paper lowered two inches, and he looked over the top of it at his wife. “Nonsense. The invitations will pour in; they’ll dine all season on that poor girl’s death.”

  Deanna looked at her plate. It was a cold thing to say, but it was true. People loved to wallow in scandal, even when it had a tragic outcome. They dwelled on the gory details, commiserated, accused, and gloated that it wasn’t one of their own.

  Jeannette Randolph lifted her finger and Dickerson, the Randolphs’ butler, appeared at her shoulder with a fresh cup of coffee. He removed the old one and carried it away. “Perhaps we should distance ourselves a bit from the family.”

  Deanna glanced quickly at her mother, then away.

  “And how to you propose to do that, dear?” Mr. Randolph neatly folded his paper and placed it on the table. “After all, Francis and I are business partners. And our daughter is engaged to be married to their son.”

  “Well, of course I don’t expect you men to follow any sense of decorum. But you’re gone all week and we aren’t, although . . .” She trailed off, a quirk of conversation that never failed to get everyone’s notice. As it did this morning with her husband and daughter.

  “I’m considering taking Adelaide to Boston,” Mrs. Randolph continued when she had their attention.

  “Boston?”

  “I was talking to Tessie Oehlrich last night, and she swears that this doctor in Boston, Dr. Meerschaum, has worked wonders for her niece’s migraines. These latest powders that Dr. Lester prescribed are not helping with Adelaide’s headaches, so I see no point in taking her all the way to Manhattan for more of the same. This is no time for her to be indisposed.”

  “By all means, take her and get to the bottom of these headaches.” Mr. Randolph said. “This is as good a time as any, I suppose. After all, it’s just the beginning of the summer season, and she’s already engaged to Charles.”

  “One can never be sanguine about these things. She can’t take to her bed after every ball or soiree. She’s in bed now, with the drapes drawn. Something must be done.”