“‘You’re welcome.’” Birdie paused, and handed the letter to Jasper. “I don’t understand. What was it doing in Ernie’s pocket?”
“You’re joking, right?” Allene said, staring at Birdie like she was a simpleton. “It’s so obvious. How could we not have seen? It’s Ernie. Ernie has been giving us those damned letters.”
Jasper dropped the letter to the floor. “What? Ernie Fielding? The kid who let us tie him to a chair for hours and thanked us for letting him play with us? Ernie couldn’t hurt a fly, much less orchestrate a murder.”
“Or several,” Birdie added. She frowned. “Then again, he’s been coming to all these funerals lately. He was at Florence’s graveside. And he was at Mother’s too.”
“And Lucy’s,” Allene added. “He had no business being there.”
“His business was to follow you, Allene,” Jasper noted. “He’s always had the rottenest kind of crush. Even now, even with Andrew being one foot away. He moons over you like nobody else. And that night that my uncle died. You said there was a man on the street watching us when we went inside. Was he Ernie’s height and breadth?”
“Yes, it could have been. Ernie’s so tall now,” Birdie said. “But why? Why would he do such a thing?”
“He wanted to be close to us. Maybe he’s just trying to get our attention.”
“By murdering the people around us? What lunatic of a person would do that?” Allene cried out. Jasper shushed her, and she calmed. “And what about Lucy? She died from the flu. Was that murder?”
“No. That must have been bad luck,” Jasper said. “But look. Every one of us has had someone . . . removed . . . from our life who was making our lives harder in some way.” They all stared at the floor, and Jasper went on. “I’ll admit that I might have been able to save money better if my uncle hadn’t drunk down our savings. Life for me is easier without him.”
Birdie looked at her lap. “And I was terrified that my mother would make me and Holly follow in her footsteps. You know.”
“Florence could have tried to heave some nasty gossip about you, Allene.” He rubbed his chin. “God, is it your turn again? Is Ernie going to keep at it until we stop him? Who would you be thankful was gone, Allene? That Ernie would be welcomed to kill off?”
Allene stared at her lap hard. The glistening Ceylon sapphire on her engagement ring shone like a tiny ocean in her hand.
“Oh God.” She looked at them both, eyes full of panic. “Andrew!”
CHAPTER 28
Allene stared as Jasper paced about the salon. “You really think that Ernie could want to kill Andrew?” Jasper inquired. “Really? I just can’t see it.”
“Forget what you can and can’t see,” Allene said. “Our vision hasn’t been so sharp lately. Especially mine.” She slipped her legs over the edge of the chaise and slowly pushed herself to her feet. It was hard, but not so hard as yesterday. Her eyes blinked in dizziness, and dark spots twinkled in her field of vision before dissipating. “Ernie was too eager to go off with Andrew. We have to tell Andrew or telephone the police.”
“Have Josephine call,” Jasper said quickly. “But we should go now. By the time they get there, it might be too late. Did Dawlish take them to the factory?”
They rang the bell for a motorcar. It turned out Andrew’s chauffeur had taken them. Allene spoke to Josephine and asked for her coat.
“And my good boots, the sturdy ones without the heels,” Allene instructed, coughing a little. “And I need a cane.”
“You are not going!” Jasper told her.
She balked at the order. “Yes, I am.”
“I’ll get your father and make him forbid it.”
Allene stopped struggling with her coat to stare at him. “Jasper Jones. Are you my friend or not?”
“I am. But you’re still convalescing, Allene. You shouldn’t—”
“Think about it. Ernie adores me. If anyone can make him stop, it’s me. And you’re not going to stop me anyway.”
“I should come too,” Birdie said. Allene and Jasper half spun around to shout at her.
“No!”
Birdie shrank on her divan.
“Your leg is broken. You can barely stand! Stay here, and we’ll tell you everything when we get back.”
Birdie’s lower lip wavered, and her eyes began to fill with tears. “What if you don’t come back?”
“We’ll be back. We promise,” Allene said.
Birdie nodded meekly, and Allene left with Jasper. Walking those fifteen feet to the curb, even with his arm to lean on, was exhausting. She huffed and puffed, trying to catch her breath.
Jasper stared at her anxiously. “I shouldn’t have let you come.”
“I don’t have the breath,” she gasped, “to argue with you. So be quiet, please.”
Dawlish drove as quickly as he could downtown toward the Brooklyn Bridge, occasionally stealing furtive glances at the two. Jasper kept his arm protectively around Allene’s shoulders, and Allene allowed it. She had a sense that somehow Jasper was dangerously close to breaking away from her orbit. She missed him already. So she sank into his shoulder, grateful for someone to lean against, even if he was borrowed for the time being.
As they pulled up to the front of the factory, Andrew’s chauffeured car was nowhere to be seen.
“What if they’re not here?” Jasper wondered.
“One way to find out. Help me out?” She extended her hand as Dawlish opened the door, and once again leaned heavily on Jasper’s arm.
The doors to the factory were closed. It was Sunday, after all. And as expected, the police weren’t there yet. The door was securely locked, and no one answered when Jasper pounded on it.
“There must be another way in. This building takes up an entire block. Surely there’s another door somewhere.”
They snaked around the west side of the building, and lo and behold, Andrew’s shining automobile was waiting beneath the line of trees. The chauffeur was inside reading a weekly. The sight of Allene and Jasper walking up to his window startled him.
“Miss Cutter! What . . . What . . .” he sputtered.
“Are they inside? Mr. Fielding and my fiancé?” Allene demanded. The young man began sweating and couldn’t put together a coherent sentence. Clearly, he’d become accustomed to bringing Andrew here to visit Birdie. The sight of Allene had turned him into a simpleton. “Never mind. They’re here.”
“Of course they are,” Jasper told her. They walked past the motorcar to the only door on the side of the building. It looked securely closed, but Jasper tried the doorknob and, wonder of wonders, it turned in his palm.