5 Check-Out Time (19 page)

Joe looked down at her and thought he had never seen a sight more beautiful than the woman he was looking at right then. Moonshine glowed in her lovely eyes as she gazed up at him, and the curve of her mouth made him want to forget he was a gentleman.

Soon, he told himself. Soon she would be his, and he wouldn’t have to fight to control his desire for her. Just thinking about it made him hot under the collar.

Tearing his gaze away, he tucked her hand closer into his elbow. It would be worth the wait, he knew it. He loved his shy, lovely woman with all his heart, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing nothing more than making her happy.

He kept his gaze steadily on the sands as they walked toward the Pennyfoot Hotel. It was a lot safer than looking at his bride-to-be.

The moon created a shining path of light across the smooth ocean, and he fancied himself walking along it, arm in arm with Ethel, toward a new horizon. Chuckling to himself at his romantic thoughts, he transferred his gaze to a moving shadow on the sand.

Curious, Joe kept his eye on the moving object, only half
listening to Ethel’s excited chatter. As they drew nearer, he could see now that it was a child. A boy.

Joe frowned. It was a little late for a child to be walking along the sands alone. In fact, now that he came to think about it, it was odd that anyone would allow their child to be out alone this late.

Joe squinted his eyes to get a better look. Probably a boy playing truant. He’d done it himself when he was a child. Just for the adventure of it. Climbed out of his bedroom window and shinned down the old apple tree without anyone knowing he’d even gone.

“What are you looking at?” Ethel demanded, as Joe kept his gaze on the child.

He nodded toward the short plump figure and paused at the railing. “Out there. Looks like a young boy walking down to the water.”

Ethel stared into the darkness. “Where? I can’t see anyone.”

Joe could barely see him now. The child had moved beyond the glow of the lamplight and had merged with the darkness of the ocean and the night sky.

The swish of the waves breaking on the shore seemed to echo in Joe’s mind as he peered into the shadows. He could just make out the boy now, walking slowly, steadily, toward the water as if in a trance.

The small figure reached the edge of the waves, and Joe waited for him to halt. It was almost as if the boy were sleepwalking, his body held stiff and his arms straight at his sides.

Then Joe felt as if his heart had leapt to his throat. The boy had not stopped at the water’s edge, but continued to wade steadily into the sea.

Joe waited a moment longer to see if the cold water would wake the child up, but still the boy moved forward, the water steadily rising up his body.

With a muffled exclamation, Joe tore his arm from Ethel’s
grip and vaulted over the railing. He heard her shocked cry but took no heed to it.

In his mind was the memory of another day. A cold winter’s morning, a thin layer of ice on Deep Willow Pond, and a lone boy, struggling in the freezing water.

He had saved the boy that time, Joe told himself as he pounded across the soft sand that seemed to grab at his feet with every step. He had done it then, when it had seemed an impossible feat.

He reached the edge of the waves and quickly unbuttoned his boots. Already the waves were closing over the boy’s head. Wading into the cold water, Joe prayed that he could be of help again. He had to save the boy. He took a long, deep breath, and dived into the black ocean.

CHAPTER
19

Cecily heard the Westminster chimes of the grandfather clock strike the midnight hour as she returned from searching the roof garden. Arthur was nowhere to be seen when she entered the foyer. She was relieved when Baxter came striding toward her, a look of urgency on his face.

“Has anyone—?” Cecily began, then broke off as Baxter shook his head.

“I’m sorry, madam. We have made a thorough search of the grounds and every room in this hotel. There is no sign of the boy.”

“You don’t think he could be hiding from us somewhere?”

“If he is, it’s a secret hiding place that no one knows anything about.” Baxter passed a hand across his forehead. “I simply don’t know where else to look.”

“The tunnel? Has anyone searched the tunnel under the cellars?” She was grasping at straws, she knew, but she refused to believe Stanley was not somewhere in the vicinity. They would find him at any second.

“Madam, if you remember, we had the entrance to the tunnel blocked from the beach and the trapdoor securely bolted from underneath. Even if the boy got into the card room and found the trapdoor to the tunnel, it would be impossible to open it. In any case, as you well know, the doors to the card rooms are kept locked.”

“Yes, I am aware of all that,” Cecily said, feeling helpless. “I am just trying to think of everything.”

Baxter looked over at the front door. “Where is Barrett? Has he left already?”

She nodded. “I think it’s high time we went and had that discussion with him. If he has had anything to do with Stanley’s disappearance, he must tell us where to find him.” She shuddered. “If he has done anything to harm that boy, I shall never forgive myself.”

She heard the wobble in her voice and cleared her throat.

Baxter moved closer. “Madam,” he said softly, “please do not upset yourself. I am sure we shall find Master Stanley safe and sound.”

“Oh, Gawd, I bloody ’ope so,” a soft voice said behind them.

Cecily turned to look at Gertie, who stood in her long white nightgown, clutching a shawl around her shoulders.

“Whatever shall I do, mum, if they don’t find him?”

“We just have to pray that they will,” Cecily said, wishing she could give the girl more hope. “He has to be somewhere on the grounds. We’ll have to make another search at daybreak. Thank the Lord it’s a warm night. If this had been winter, we would have had even more to worry over.”

“Mum?” Gertie swallowed a couple of times. “Has anyone told Lady Lavinia yet?”

Cecily flinched as she thought about the unsuspecting
invalid lying upstairs. “I don’t see any need to worry her unnecessarily.”

“Well, I just wanted to say …” Gertie paused and gave Cecily a stricken look. “I want to be the one what tells her, if we don’t find him, or if something bad happened to him. It was my fault, you see. I should have looked after him better. I should never have left him alone like that.”

Cecily grasped Gertie’s cold hands and held them. “Let’s not worry about what might happen. Never trouble trouble till trouble troubles you, remember?”

Gertie nodded, obviously deriving little comfort from the adage.

“Go back to bed, Gertie,” Cecily said gently. “I will be sure to inform you if there is any news.”

“Yes, mum.” Gertie moved away, looking more despondent than ever. She had gone just a few paces when the front door flew open.

Gertie screamed as the cool breeze from the sea flowed into the foyer and a figure stepped through the doorway. Water dripped steadily from Joe’s sodden clothes and the soggy, limp bundle he carried in his arms.

Ethel’s face appeared behind him, peering around his shoulder with a look of stark dread on her white face.

Cecily covered her lips with the tips of her fingers as Baxter strode past her, heading straight for Joe, who looked as if he were about to drop to the floor any minute.

“Take him,” he gasped when Baxter reached him. “He’s right heavy, this lad.”

Baxter just had time to take the soaking boy in his arms before Joe collapsed on the floor in a spreading puddle of seawater.

Ethel uttered a shocked cry and dropped to her knees beside Joe’s still form. Cecily heard Gertie moan and started forward herself as the housemaid rushed to be by her friend’s side. They each took one of Joe’s hands and began to rub frantically.

“He’s freezing cold,” Gertie said as Cecily reached them.

Looking up at Baxter, Cecily framed the question she was almost afraid to ask. “Is he alive?”

Baxter stared down at the child’s frozen face. “Barely,” he said in a tight-lipped voice that betrayed his distress. “I will send Samuel for the doctor. He can bring him back in the trap and take him home afterward.”

Ethel sobbed quietly at Joe’s side, tears chasing each other down her wet cheeks.

Cecily leaned down and pressed her fingers to Joe’s neck, relief spreading over her when she felt a strong pulse. “He’s going to be all right,” she told the weeping girl. “It’s probably exhaustion. A night’s rest and he will be fine. I’ll have the doctor take a look at him, just to be sure.”

Ethel gave a shuddering sob. “Thank you, mum,” she whispered without taking her eyes from Joe’s face.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Cecily asked gently.

Ethel’s shoulders shook, but she answered in a low, halting voice, punctuated by an occasional sniff. “Joe saw him walking along the sands. He was going straight for the sea. We thought he would stop when he got to the water but he didn’t. He kept on walking, right into the ocean. He wouldn’t stop. And Joe … he went in after him …” She started weeping again.

“It’s my fault,” Gertie howled. “It’s all my fault. I told him he belonged in the bottom of the sea. Oh, my Gawd, I never thought he’d do it.” She threw her shawl over her head and rocked back and forth on her knees.

“I should get the boy into a bed,” Baxter said, raising his voice to be heard above Gertie’s bawling.

“Yes, please do, Baxter. I’ll ask Mrs. Chubb to keep an eye on him until the doctor gets here.” Cecily gave him a grave look. “You can put him in Samuel’s room, and please ask Samuel to bring P.C. Northcott back with the doctor, will you?”

Baxter nodded, his face a stone mask. “Certainly, madam.”

She watched him carry the boy across the foyer, then shifted her attention to Gertie, who howled louder.

“Oh, I’m sorry, mum, I’m so sorry. Do you have to tell the constable? What if he puts me in the clink? How am I going to take care of the baby if I’m in prison?”

She was making so much noise Cecily had to shake her to command her attention. “Gertie, I am not sending for the constable because of anything you’ve done or haven’t done. This doesn’t concern you in any way. So please, calm yourself and return to your bed.”

Gertie stopped bawling. In the blissful silence that followed, Joe made a sound like a loud sigh.

All three women stared at him, then as he began to stir, Ethel threw herself down on his chest, sobbing wildly. “Oh, Joe,” she kept saying, over and over again.

Cecily took hold of the girl’s shoulders and drew her back. “You must let him breathe,” she said as Joe’s head came up and gasped for air. “He probably swallowed a lot of water.”

“Too right I have,” Joe muttered. “My stomach feels like a fishbowl.”

“Oh, Joe,” Ethel said again, still on her knees and staring at him as if he’d arisen from the dead.

Gertie got slowly to her feet, both hands pressed over her mouth. Cecily hoped she wasn’t about to be sick all over the carpet.

“Ethel told me what happened,” Cecily said to Joe as he struggled to sit up. “I’d like to hear your version, if you feel up to it?”

Joe nodded, then groaned and held his stomach. “I’ll never eat fish again,” he muttered.

Ethel let out a nervous laugh and grabbed hold of his hands. “I thought you were going to die out there,” she said tearfully.

“So did I, I’m telling you.” Joe shook his head. “I couldn’t see him in the dark. It was the strangest thing I ever did see. Usually when someone is drowning they fight and
splash about. That’s what makes it dangerous to rescue someone from drowning. They are more ’n likely to pull you right down with ’em.”

He coughed, a deep rasping sound that had Ethel watching him anxiously. After a moment or two he recovered his breath and said hoarsely, “It wasn’t like that with this one. He just kept walking into the sea like he thought he was still on the sands, and he never stopped. I had to guess where he was. I couldn’t hear or see him. Lucky for him I bumped into him, more or less by chance. Someone was watching over him, that was for sure.”

He belched loudly, his face warming as he sent a look of apology at Cecily. “Sorry, ma’am. Please excuse me.”

Cecily smiled. “Quite understandable, Joe, under the circumstances. We owe you a great debt of gratitude. I’m sure Lady Lavinia will want to express her thanks herself when she is informed of the incident.”

Joe shook his head. “There’s no need. Once I got hold of him, it wasn’t that difficult to get him back to shore. He didn’t resist or struggle, just came with me. It was like I was tugging a paddleboat behind me.”

“We might never have known what happened to him if you hadn’t seen him walk into the sea.” Cecily raised her eyes to the ceiling. “Thank God you were there at that time.”

Joe looked up at her and gave her a sweet smile. “Thank God, indeed. It was Him who sent me there, ma’am.”

“I think it must have been.” Cecily glanced down at Ethel, who still stared at Joe as if she were afraid he’d disappear if she took her eyes off him.

“Ethel,” Cecily said, a little more sharply than she’d intended, in order to attract the girl’s attention. “Please take Joe down to the kitchen and get his clothes dried off in front of the stove. A drop of Michel’s best brandy should help take the chill off you both.”

“Yes, mum. Thank you, mum.” Ethel scrambled to her feet and stretched out her hand toward Joe.

He seemed to have a little trouble steadying himself, but after a moment he wrapped his arm around Ethel’s shoulders. Her face looked much brighter as the two of them walked a little unsteadily toward the stairs.

Cecily looked at Gertie, who wore a woeful expression as she drew her shawl closer about her shoulders.

“Go to bed,” Cecily told the housemaid. “I’ll ask Mrs. Chubb to bring you a hot drink to help you sleep.”

“Why did he do it?” Gertie said, her face puckered, ready to cry again. “I didn’t mean what I told him, honest I didn’t. I didn’t think he’d really try to walk at the bottom of the sea.”

“Gertie …” Cecily hesitated, not sure how much she could say to comfort the girl. “Please believe that you are not at fault,” she said at last. “Whatever you said to Master Stanley had no bearing on this little adventure tonight. I think I know why the child did what he did, and perhaps by tomorrow I’ll be able to tell you more. But for now I’m afraid you will simply have to take my word for it.”

Gertie nodded, though she looked unconvinced. She seemed to drag herself across the foyer, one end of her shawl trailing dismally behind her across the carpet.

Cecily watched her leave, then made her way to Mrs. Chubb’s quarters. Someone had to watch over Stanley, while she and Baxter paid a long overdue visit to Mervin the Mysterious.

Baxter met her at the head of the stairs when she returned to the foyer after speaking with the housekeeper.

“I’m worried about the boy,” he said when she asked about him. “He lies so still and quiet. His breathing is hard to hear and his heartbeat very faint.”

Cecily sighed. “Has Samuel left for the doctor?”

“Yes. He’s also been instructed to bring back the constable when he returns with Dr. Prestwick.”

“Very well.” Cecily glanced at the clock. “Then we have a little while to wait for them. Mrs. Chubb will watch over Stanley, and I have given her strict instructions not to let
anyone in the room, with the exception of myself or the doctor when he arrives.”

Baxter stood looking at her with a frown on his face. “A while for what, madam?” he asked carefully.

“Baxter, we simply must talk to Arthur now. As soon as he knows that Stanley has been found alive, he will waste no time in leaving. We need a confession from him.”

Baxter continued to fix her with his intent stare. “But, madam, if Master Stanley is alive, we have a witness to the murder. We won’t need a confession.”

“If Stanley lives through the night,” Cecily said softly.

Baxter’s face assumed a stony expression. Only the set of his mouth indicated his anguish. “I understand, madam,” he said quietly. “But I would suggest that it would be most unwise to visit the man in his quarters tonight. The constable will be here after a while. Not that I estimate his capabilities to be greater than yours or mine, but he is the proper person to handle the situation.”

“We don’t know how long it will take him to arrive,” Cecily said firmly. “In the meantime, Arthur could return at any time and discover that Stanley has been found and is unconscious. He could even attempt to silence the boy some other way. If we tell Arthur, however, that the boy has been found alive and has told us what happened, we might be able to wrestle a confession out of him.”

“I still believe—”

Cecily moved closer to him until they were toe-to-toe. “I don’t have time to argue, Baxter. You are fully aware that your arguments have never prevented me before from carrying out my intentions, and it will not prevent me now. I will go and talk to Arthur. You may accompany me or not, as you please.”

He ran a hand through his hair and took a pace backward. “I will come with you, madam. Under protest, as always.”

Cecily gave him a grim smile. “Thank you, Baxter. I knew I could rely on you.”

She wouldn’t admit to feeling more than a little apprehensive
as they made their way across the stable yard to Arthur’s room. She had heard of the way some hypnotists could send the better half of an audience into an induced sleep, and then order several of them to perform outlandish acts, to the huge amusement of the remainder of the audience.

In this instance, however, the situation was not in the least amusing. Arthur could very well send both her and Baxter into a hypnotic state from which they might never recover.