“Maybe the young man with whom she escaped insisted that they travel light. Maybe she’ll send for her doll when they are settled.”
She shook her head again. “There are other puzzling elements. The clothes she took. The clothes she didn’t take. I realize she might have packed in a hurry and only been allowed to take one small bag with her, but why take a cocktail dress and leave the matching slip? Why leave her sturdy country shoes when she’ll be doing so much walking? And why leave a drawer full of undergarments? Surely she’d need those. And her jewelry roll, hidden among the undergarments, was still there. What woman leaves without her jewelry? There were so many little incongruities in the clothing she took and left that made me think that she might not have packed her bag herself.”
“If someone else packed it for her, what would be the reason?”
She leaned forward again and her voice was scarcely more than a whisper. “I wondered if she may have been kidnapped or lured away by an unscrupulous man.”
“Again, for what reason?”
“Maybe to get his hands on her fortune? Maybe she has met an untimely end. I just don’t know. All I have is this uneasy feeling in my stomach. I can’t explain it. Perhaps you think I am talking nonsense; everyone else seems to.”
“Oh no, Miss Norton. We Irish are firm believers in the power of the sixth sense,” I said. “It has stood me in good stead several times in my life.”
“Has it?”
“Oh yes. Each time I have sensed imminent danger, it has proved to be real. So tell me the exact circumstances under which Letitia disappeared.” I realized as I said it that I should not allow her to go on like this. I had no time for another case, and if I did, the last person I should want to work for was Arabella Norton. But the fact that she had come to me, of all people, for help told me how worried she was. And she had almost apologized. And I knew what it felt like to be worried sick about someone close to me.
“As I said, it was about three weeks ago now. She was supposed to be coming to the city to spend the day with her intended. He was to meet her at the station. She was driven into town to catch the train to the city, but she never arrived. Carter waited and waited for several trains after the one on which she was expected, then telephoned the house to see why she hadn’t come as planned. Her parents were away visiting friends for a couple of days, so there were only servants in residence. Finally Carter came up to White Plains to look for her. That’s when they found the note on her pillow to say that she had fallen in love with a penniless young man and run away to California with him.”
“What happened then?”
“Carter was distraught. Her parents were summoned home. They didn’t want the local police called in. They wanted to spare Carter’s feelings and their own embarrassment. Letitia’s mother was sure that her daughter would contact them in a few days. She was sure Letitia would realize she had made a horrible mistake and beg to come home. But she hasn’t. That’s what convinced me that something is very wrong. I’m sure she would have written to one of us, her family or me. She was always such a dutiful daughter and wouldn’t want to cause her parents grief. Or Carter, either. Even if she had decided not to marry him, she would have been sensitive to his feelings. She would have written to him explaining her actions, I’m sure of it.”
“You say he’s distraught?”
“Absolutely. Young men make more of an effort than us women to conceal their feelings, but he is walking around in a daze. He even threatened to go to California and challenge the other man to a duel. Carter is normally the most subdued and well mannered of men, so you can see how upset he is. And with good reason. He adored Letitia as much as she adored him.”
“So what has been done to find her so far?”
“Discreet inquiries were made at the station and at stations along the route, hoping that somebody might have seen her leave the train before it reached the city. But nobody seemed to remember seeing her.”
“So it’s possible she never boarded the train in the first place.”
“Quite possible, although the chauffeur says that he dropped her at the entrance to the station early that morning. The man at the booking office thinks he remembers her, but he says the young woman was wearing a veil so he never saw her face.”
“That sounds as if she didn’t want to be recognized,” I said.
“I agree.”
“Then the most logical assumption was that she really was planning to run away and didn’t want to be seen.”
“I suppose so. But I still can’t believe it. It’s all most distressing, Miss Murphy. We don’t know which way to turn.”
“I understand that feeling well,” I said. “It’s exactly how I feel about Daniel’s case.”
“Oh dear, yes. Poor Daniel,” she said simply. “Can you not ask his fellow officers to help you? They all adore him.”
Oh Danny Boy (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #5)
Rhys Bowen's books
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