The Gilded Hour Page 151


She thought of Mabel Stone in the little cottage by the sea. She thought of Janine Campbell’s four boys, children she had never seen but could imagine nonetheless: if not healthy, then healing.

As soon as she opened the door Campbell stepped toward her, close enough that she could make out ale on his breath. She had faced down drunken husbands and belligerent mothers, and she resolved to face down Archer Campbell. She put her arm straight out, her fisted hand against his shoulder, and pushed him away.

“Mr. Campbell,” she said. “You are inappropriate.”

His hand closed over her forearm. She spun around and jerked free in one motion, and they stood looking at each other. She could hear her heartbeat echoing in her ears, and every nerve was twanging like a fire bell.

“You will talk to me.” His voice went husky and she saw his pupils dilating with an almost sexual response to her rejection. She thought of one quick jerk of the knee and how that would take the look off his face.

“I want to know where Mabel Stone is,” he said. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. I saw you go into her place that night with the detectives, and the next day the Stones were gone, both of them. There’s no word of them, and nobody knows where they went. Except you. You know, don’t you.”

Anna looked him directly in the eye for a count of three. She said, “Mr. Campbell. Leave this building and never come back. Never approach me again or I will swear out a complaint.”

“Haven’t answered my question, though, have you? That’s as good as a confession in my book. You’ll talk to me, unless you like the idea of a search. You’ll never know when it’s coming, but I can guarantee you, Comstock will find what he needs to send you to prison.”

In some part of her brain Anna realized that he didn’t know she was married, or to whom. The thought made her smile, and her smile made his whole face contort with rage. This is what his wife faced every day, she thought. This is what she lived with for years.

A small group of people came into the hall. An orderly, too busy flirting with the nursing students to take note of anything else, and behind them, Elise. She pushed her way through the others and broke into a trot.

“Dr. Savard,” she called. “Do you need help?”

“She does,” said Campbell with a wide rictus of a smile that displayed graying teeth. “But not from you.”

His eyes moved over Anna, roaming over her body to stop on her face.

“You’re no woman a man would want as a wife. I doubt you even know you are a woman.” His grin flickered on and off. “But then old maids can be surprising. All those juices stored up with no place to go.”

There was a distinct buzzing in her ears and she seemed to be watching the scene from a remove. She felt no fear or even disgust. The most she could muster was a clinical interest, wondering what an alienist would make of Campbell.

“I could show you what goes on in a man’s bed—”

Then Elise Mercier stepped forward with both fists raised and delivered a blow to Campbell’s middle that deflated him like a pin to a hot-air balloon. All the breath in his lungs left him in a rush, the smell of oysters and ale hanging in the air as he collapsed to the floor, hacking and fighting for air.

It all happened in seconds, and then everyone was staring at Elise. The look on the orderly’s face was distinctly admiring, but the nurses were shocked and, Anna thought, a little frightened.

Elise studied Campbell, writhing on the ground and gasping for air.

“He’ll be all right. More’s the pity,” she said to no one in particular. Then she realized that everyone was looking at her, and she produced a small, crooked smile. She said, “Six brothers.”

That seemed to satisfy them all. The orderly crouched down to get hold of Campbell by the collar of his jacket and yanked him to his feet.

“Would you be wanting to call the police, Dr. Savard?”

Anna shook her head. “Just put him out on the street, please, Jeremy. I need to get to surgery. Nurse Mercier, I suggest you soak that hand in cold water before it begins to swell.” But she smiled at Elise. “Later I’ll try to remember to remind you about the prohibition on violence inside the New Amsterdam.”

•   •   •

ELISE, SOAKING HER hand, was still angry enough to spit, but she was also deeply apprehensive. Bullies did not stand down so easily, especially not when they had been bested by a girl. Walking home from the New Amsterdam might not be the best idea. Not for herself or Anna. She wondered why Anna had not sent for the police, if there was something unspoken that stopped her.

After a while she dried her hand, flexing each finger and making a fist. No serious damage, but then punching Campbell’s middle had been like burying her fist in half-risen bread dough. She thought for a long moment, and then went to find pen and paper.

•   •   •

JACK HAD COME to the conclusion that the one advantage to working the night shift was Mrs. Cabot’s determination to feed him to bursting when he got up in the early afternoon. Today he was served a spicy beef hash along with a wedge of onion pie, a dish of preserved green peas dressed with mint and cream, and a bowl of banana pudding.

When he protested she poured him more coffee and put another slice of onion pie on his plate. Then she went off to answer a knock at the door and came back with a note.

Dear Detective Sergeant Mezzanotte,

I write to say that this morning a man called Archer Campbell came to the hospital and spoke very rudely to Dr. Savard in the hall outside her office. Very rudely. Because I feared for her safety I stepped in and delivered a shovel hook as taught to me by my brothers. I intended this for his liver, but it landed on his diaphragm instead. He was not seriously hurt, but he may swear out a complaint against me. More disturbing, I fear he may also seek revenge toward Dr. Savard or me or both of us, and thus this note.

To be clear, I didn’t hear the conversation between them and I don’t know what it was he wanted, but he wanted it very badly.

Yours sincerely,
Elise Mercier

His first stop was the New Amsterdam, where he found Joshua Abernathy behind the porter’s desk.

“Dr. Savard didn’t want us to call in the police,” he told Jack. “I would have done it anyway, but I figured you’d be along.”

He didn’t have much to report beyond the fact that Campbell had snuck in while the porters’ shift was changing, at about six. “I didn’t see him come in, but I made sure to see him out.” The surly expression gave way to a wide smile. “He was still coughing and wheezing. I hear Nurse Mercier walloped him proper, right in the breadbasket.”

“She sent me a note, worried about Campbell hanging around looking for a chance to get his own back.”

“Same thought occurred to me,” said the porter. “If you hadn’t shown your face by four, I would have sent a note on my own.”

“Has he been hanging around?”

“Not that I could see. But there’s no shortage of dark corners to hide in, if he’s determined.”

And that was the question. Jack could imagine Campbell desperate and foolish enough to do about anything.

•   •   •

FROM THE NEW Amsterdam he went straight to Oscar’s boardinghouse on Grove Street. It was a big, comfortable, and orderly house where troublemakers didn’t last a week, because Oscar saw to it. For his help the landlady gave him use of the parlor, where Jack found him with a newspaper and a cigar in a sea of smoke.

He sat down across from him and handed over Elise’s note.

“Oh ho.” Oscar put the paper down and read.

Jack said, “How close are you to sorting out the last of the bonds?”

Oscar had taken the bonds on as a project, converting them to cash at different banks, a few at a time, and sending the money to Little Compton by registered messenger. The scheme was both elaborate and fraught with pitfalls, but Oscar lived for that kind of challenge.

“Just three left,” he told Jack now. “Not too many or too few. Just right. I’m looking forward to this.”

•   •   •

WHEN THEY SAT down to dinner at Aunt Quinlan’s table for the first time in almost a week, Anna was prepared to be asked a million questions about everything from Staten Island to Mrs. Cabot’s magical head-cold tea. Instead there was only one subject under discussion: the upcoming trip to Greenwood. The Mezzanotte family celebrated the twenty-fourth of June every year with a huge party, and the combined Quinlan and Savard households were invited to join them. Margaret had other plans she couldn’t change, but the other adults were almost as excited as the little girls to be getting out of the city.

Even the Lees were coming. Jack had announced his plan to show Mr. Lee around the farm and greenhouses right from the start, which put Anna in a difficult spot. She tried to explain the problem: “Mr. Lee never leaves Waverly Place except to visit their son and his family, and he’s just four blocks away. He always has the same excuse, that somebody has to stay to look after the property. Properties, now.”

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