Page 22 of Blackmailed (The Browns of Butcher’s Hill #2)

P hillip took the trolley to the Marine Hospital and met Timothy at the front door. “He made it, then?” Phillip asked.

Timothy nodded. “The lieutenant was discharged and is recovering at the Pinkerton headquarters. The captain made it, but barely, from what I’m hearing. He’s the one who requested this meeting.”

They were shown to a small room with a single bed and a nightstand. The captain lay there in the narrow bed, face pale and drawn. He looked nothing like the strong and robust leader Phillip had met on a few occasions. But his eyes were clear, and he was looking at them both.

“Sorry, but I’m unable to stand and greet you.”

Phillip smiled, and Timothy picked up the captain’s hand from where it lay on the white sheet. “We’re just glad to see you on the mend.”

“No use acting as if I’m well. I have a long way to recover, but I have the two of you to thank for that. I remember very little of that night, just flashes of light, voices, and pain. But I am here because you risked your lives to rescue the lieutenant and me.”

“We were glad to do it, Captain,” Timothy said.

“Glad?” he repeated and then coughed and reached for water on the nightstand.

“Timothy is deserving of your thanks. He’s the one who figured out where you were and only asked me to come along because I have an exceptionally hard head and like to punch people when given the opportunity,” Phillip said.

“Did you get to punch anyone?”

Phillip laughed and told him the story of the guard and their playacting. “I only got to swing at him once!”

The captain smiled. “In any case, I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t come when you did, in the middle of the night yet. I’m in your debt.”

“I’ll ask a favor, then,” Phillip said. “Leave Dolly Irving out of this. She allowed herself to be coerced by Colfax, but she had little understanding of what exactly he was doing. I don’t know if Colfax’s killer is still after her, but it would ease her worries if she thought she wasn’t in trouble with the Pinkertons too. ”

“Consider it done.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to continue trying to find his killer?” the captain asked.

Phillip smiled. “I’ll continue to try and keep Mrs. Irving safe, but I would never take the law into my own hands, sir.”

The captain chuckled. “Get out of here. Both of you. I need my nap.”

“You’re sure that Mr. Brown received the note I sent yesterday about the event this evening at Mr. Clement’s home?”

“Yes, miss,” Colleen said. “I handed it directly to his sister, Sarah, who said she would give it to him as soon as he was home from the cannery. She said he mentioned he might work later that evening than usual.”

“Sarah would make sure he received it.”

“She would. Now let me get to work on your hair. This peach-colored gown is so flattering. I want to make sure your hair looks just as lovely!”

It was not long after that Mr. Turnbull returned with Mr. Brown in the carriage.

Mr. Smith opened the Shellington doors, and Mr. Brown climbed down from his seat and waved off Mr. Turnbull, taking her hand and helping her into the carriage.

He was dressed in the finery he’d worn to the Waters’ ball last year and looked very handsome.

She opened the small window between the interior and the coachman’s seat.

“I did give you the direction, didn’t I, Mr. Turnbull?”

“You did, Miss Wiest,” he said.

Virginia closed the door and looked at Phillip. “Thank you for doing this. I know you are not enthused about spending an evening speaking to people you haven’t met before about the weather and other nonsense.”

“I’m not good at small talk, but an evening like this allows me to see you looking so beautiful and to escort you on my arm. I’ll gladly tell someone it might rain tomorrow.”

Virginia could feel her cheeks heating, as they always did when Phillip was ridiculous in his compliments. She smiled at him. “You are quite the flirt this evening.”

The small window behind Phillip’s head opened again, and she could see Mr. Crimlock’s face. “Yes, Mr. Crimlock. Do you need something?”

“Yes, miss. Mr. Turnbull wanted to check the address we’re going to. I dropped the note you gave us, and it got wet. Now it’s hard to read. I’m sorry, miss.”

“No problem at all, Mr. Crimlock. I have the invitation in my bag,” she said and opened the drawstring. She pulled out the card and leaned toward the door to catch the light of the streetlamps. “Fourteen hundred Calvert Street.”

Phillip turned from looking out the window. “Can you repeat that address?” he said abruptly.

Virginia pulled the card back out of her bag. “Fourteen hundred Calvert Street. Are you familiar with that area?”

“Not in the way you think,” he said. “But I recognize the address from somewhere. Just not sure where. May I look at the invitation?”

“Certainly,” she said and pulled it from her bag for the third time.

Phillip took it and leaned close to the windows to read the fancy writing with twirls and loops. The paper wrapping that he’d taken from Colfax’s bedroom said Calvert Str . The other writing that was visible said ment .

“Whose house is this? The invitation just says it’s a fundraiser for the Benevolent Society.”

“The man who is the director of the orphanage, the very one who makes me uncomfortable and why I am so glad you are accompanying me,” she said.

The hair on the back of Phillip’s neck stood, and he wasn’t sure why. “What is his name, Virginia? This man who makes you uncomfortable?”

“Please do not hit him, Phillip. I was just recently reinstated to the board.”

He stared at her, willing her to just answer his question and knowing that he had neared a break in a case that was many layered. “His name, Virginia. Please.”

“Horatio Clement.”

Phillip cleared his throat. “Can you spell his last name.”

“Certainly,” she said and did. “What is it, Phillip? Even in the shadows, I can see that something is wrong.”

He was at a crossroads. If he shared what he’d done when he broke into Colfax’s house, she would be a conspirator in the eyes of the law.

If he didn’t, she could be a target of this Clement person if it what Phillip was thinking was true—that Clement had been the one to kill Colfax and threaten Dolly Irving.

If Clement knew she was dear to him, she could be used in some way.

But he needed her. He needed her help if he was to find what he needed in this man’s home.

And she needed to understand the dangers.

“I don’t . . .”

“Phillip. You must know by now that you can trust me with whatever it is that is making you look ill. I won’t press you to tell me, but it is hurtful that you don’t have faith in me to be your confidant.”

Perhaps this was the time to cross the Rubicon. He watched her lean back in her seat and turn her head to the carriage window. He’d hurt her, and he’d recently realized with some clarity that his life’s work was to keep her safe and comfortable and happy. He cleared his throat.

“I found what I think were some items that the three men who broke into Dolly Irving’s shop were looking for.”

“Where did you find them?”

“Somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be.”

She smiled at him. “Why do you think the items were connected to those men?”

Virginia Wiest was far too bright to parse this out piece by piece and force her to connect the clues, and he didn’t think their carriage ride was too much longer. He told her what he knew of Colfax, including Irene Littleman’s indictments and the torn paper from the framed picture.

“Ment?” she said, searching his face.

“As in Clement.”

“And the street matches.”

“It does.”

“What does it all mean?”

“I’m guessing it means that Colfax stole those items from Clement unless it is some other house on Calvert Street.

Clement is angry and killed Colfax or had him killed.

Clement wants these items back and assumes they are still at Dolly Irving’s shop.

He sent his henchmen to terrify her and retrieve the items. Fortunately, Willis Shoeman got word to me and Uncle Patrick before they could harm her. ”

“Has Mr. Clement gone to the authorities?”

“Well, if he has, the Pinkertons in charge of finding Colfax’s killer have never said anything to me. They investigated a woman who sells stolen goods down on the docks and almost got themselves killed for their troubles.”

“What are you suggesting?” Virginia asked.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “I saw three items. They were spirited away while I was still where I shouldn’t have been. A necklace with a massive ruby and matching earbobs, a small painting signed by someone named Copley, and a plain wooden box with letters addressed to John Adams.”

“John Adams? As in the president?”

Phillip nodded. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I may be able to find something out tonight.”

The carriage rolled to a stop and moved forward slowly until they were in front of Clement’s door.

Phillip stepped down and turned back to help Virginia. She looked up at him once she’d stepped off the last step, her blue eyes shining with intelligence and maybe even mischief. They walked together into the house, glowing with candles and gaslights and glittering jewels.

“Mr. Clement,” Virginia said and smiled as she held his hand. “Horatio. How kind of you to allow your home to be used for the benefit of all the orphans we serve.”

He glanced at Phillip and back to her. “So very glad you could join us, Virginia. Who is your friend?”

“Allow me to introduce you. Mr. Horatio Clement. Mr. Phillip Brown.”