CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

It was almost four hours later before Rachel came back into the room.

“I’m so sorry, but I really do have to close up now,” she said. “You’re welcome to come back tomorrow if you like.”

“It’s alright,” said Dex. “I think we’ve found all we’re going to find on this.”

“What exactly are you looking for?” she asked.

“It’s going to sound crazy, but we’re trying to solve the murder of Charity Van Etten. Her body was recently found, and it was clear she’d met with a violent death. I’m just trying to find out who might have done that.”

“Well, for my money, it would have been the valet. He was their henchman. If Charity refused all requests or her aunt and uncle did, they might have thought the only way to save face would be to kill her.”

“Kill her? Why? She didn’t say anything to anyone. In fact, she may not have even been aware of the proposal,” said Gaspar.

“Perhaps not, but sooner or later, she would have married someone else, which would have indicated that she refused a Vanderbilt.”

“Damn,” muttered Dex. “What happened to Mrs. Van Etten?”

“She never returned to New York. Their townhouse was sold, and her things were shipped to Europe, where she went to live with her sister.”

“It all seems so senseless. Just to protect someone’s name and ego,” said Gaspar, shaking his head.

“When do you leave New York?” she asked.

“Not until tomorrow evening, earlier if we can get another flight,” said Dex.

“There’s a small gallery down off Wall Street. Very few people go there, but you should. There’s a painting of Charity and her Aunt Gertie. It’s quite lovely and shows just how beautiful she was as a young woman.”

“We’ll be sure and visit it, ma’am. Thank you.”

Gaspar and Dex walked back toward the hotel. It was a good twenty blocks from the library, but it was a nice night, and they weren’t concerned about anyone bothering them. Occasionally, there would be crowds of drunken tourists or young college kids enjoying a city getaway. But it was all in good fun.

“What do you think it means?” asked Dex. “I mean, is there something else here since it involved your family?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe that’s how she ended up on the property. Maybe she was killed, and instead of telling everyone about it, Gertie asked that she be buried in our family cemetery. I mean, it makes sense. She knew about the sugar mill, and if she’d come to warn my family, then maybe they felt sorry for her.”

“That’s just crazy,” said Dex. “But for what it’s worth, I think you’re right. I’m not sure how that gives her any peace, though. And we still don’t know how she was murdered.”

“I’d like to see the portrait tomorrow if you’re cool with that,” said Gaspar.

“Me too,” smiled Dex. “Me too.”

After having breakfast, they loaded their bags into the car and drove to the address of the gallery. Parking was a beast, but they didn’t even bitch about paying seventy bucks for one day.

The gallery had only portraits of the founding members of New York City. When they rounded the last corner, they saw the portrait they wanted.

“Wow, that looks just like her,” said Dex.

“It does. She was really beautiful. She reminds me a bit of Alexandra. All that pretty blonde hair and big blue eyes.”

“Yeah, she’s still wearing that cameo choker and broach,” said Dex. “It must have been a gift from her aunt. She has one similar.” Gaspar nodded, stepping closer to the painting.

“Sir, please don’t touch the painting,” said a man walking toward them.

“Oh, I wasn’t,” he said, slightly annoyed. “I’m trying to see what that is. That long silver thing there.”

“Oh, it’s a hat pin. Many women wore them in their hair, sometimes for protection. Some women even laced the tips with poison, just in case,” he winked. He walked back to his spot in the entryway, and Dex looked at Gaspar.

“What if someone attacked her, and she tried to stab him with that? As you said, she wasn’t very big. About the same size as your wife. He could have easily overpowered her, stabbed her with her own hat pin, making it look like it was an accident.”

“I’ll be damned,” muttered Gaspar. “Let’s get home.”

“I remember,” she whispered. Genevieve, Tahlako, and Archie stood behind her as they described what might have happened. “I remember it all now.”

“Can you tell us?” asked Gaspar.

“Aunt Gertie didn’t want me to be in New York. She said the Vanderbilts were causing a ruckus of some sort with uncle, so I happily left on an adventure with her. I didn’t know the name of the people who lived here. We didn’t come to the house. We took a carriage all the way down here to meet a man. Aunt Gertie asked me to wait while she spoke to him. It wasn’t but twenty minutes later she got in the carriage, and we rode back. Nearly an entire day for twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes that my family will forever owe her,” said Gaspar.

“We had dinner that night, and Aunt Gertie got spooked. She said that some men might try to take me and that I should fight them if I had to. He was so strong. His hand was around my neck,” she whispered, touching her throat. “I-I grabbed my hairpin. I’d just reapplied the poison that morning at Aunt Gertie’s insistence. But he was so much more powerful. He thanked me.”

“Thanked you? Thanked you for what?” asked Dex.

“For making his job easier. He stuck the pin in my neck. Right here,” she said, sliding a finger along her jugular. “That’s all I remember. I was on the floor of our room at the hotel.”

“We think your aunt brought your body out here, asking my ancestor to bury you. That’s how you ended up here,” said Gaspar.

“That makes sense,” she said. Charity stared at her arms and then down at her dress. “Why am I still here? Did we get it wrong?”

“No. We didn’t get it wrong,” said Gaspar. “I’m not sure why. But we know. Now we know, and you’re welcome to remain here for as long as you want or can.”

Charity nodded, smiling at Dex and Gaspar, then turned to Alexandra.

“Thank you all for what you’ve done. I feel different for knowing. I’m not sure it will make a difference for me, but I feel less – less heavy.” Charity walked toward the paths, following it along toward the back of the property. Gaspar assumed she was walking toward the sugar mill, perhaps to see if she could get a sense of her aunt.

“Well, that’s two solved,” said Nine. “Genevieve and Charity. Two more, and we’ll see where this all leads us.”