The Magnolia Palace(38)

He looked over at her, wary. “Are you sure?”

“Sure. I’ll be fine. Off you go.”

She waited five minutes after he left before heading to the adjacent library and opening up the book with the clue inside. It lay exactly where she’d left it.


I’m fifty-two

Feeling quite blue

Although I look like a king

I’ve got absolutely nothing

to my name.



Whereas the previous clue had triggered a memory of the painting it referred to, this one drew a blank. The trail was going to be much harder to follow than Veronica had expected, she realized with a thud of disappointment.

Just then, she heard Joshua coming up the back stairs. That was fast. She slammed the book shut with the clue still inside, shoved it back on the shelf, and raced to the couch in front of the living hall fireplace just as Joshua entered carrying two Danishes. “I came upon these in the back of the fridge. It’s not much, but it’ll keep us going.”

There was no way Veronica was going to be able to solve the mystery of the magnolia treasure, even with the extra day of searching. Not with Joshua checking in on her every five minutes, and also because she simply didn’t know where else to look. The house was enormous. If she was going to figure this out, she’d need his help.

If there was a reward, it would certainly be worth the risk. And by working with Joshua, she couldn’t be accused of theft or meddling.

She took a deep breath. “The reason I missed everyone leaving yesterday was that I found something in that strange room with the pipes behind the main stairway. I got lost in examining it, and then they left without me.”

“You were in the organ chamber? What on earth were you doing back there?”

“Hiding. The shoot didn’t go as well as I’d hoped, and I needed a break from them all.” She didn’t want to admit what a disaster the day had been, and luckily, he didn’t follow that line of questioning further.

He wiped each of his fingers with his napkin, not taking his eyes off her. “What was it you found? Music or something?”

“No.” She extracted the notes from the wide pocket in the front of her sweater and handed them over. “Do you know what they’re talking about?”

He moved closer to the window to study them. “I think they describe the works of art here. You found these in the organ room?”

“I meant to mention them last night, but then I fell asleep. Sorry about that.”

He waited a beat before turning back to the notes. He clearly wasn’t sure whether to believe her.

“I think it’s a scavenger hunt,” she volunteered. “I used to do the same for my sister, when we were young.”

“And these were just sitting in the organ chamber?”

She shrugged. “They were on the floor, deep amongst the pipes, as if they’d fallen.”

Joshua held them carefully by the edges and ran through them one more time. “These are incredible. Just incredible.”

His voice rose with excitement. “And I think I know who wrote them.”





Chapter Nine


1919


Angelica,” Mrs. Whitney repeated, “isn’t that you?”

Lillian clutched her clipboard to her chest and stared at Mrs. Whitney, who stepped even closer. Inside the gallery, a bell rang, signaling that the Fricks’ dinner party guests were to make their way to the dining hall. They moved as a herd, and Lillian stepped into the back entryway to let them through.

To her dismay, Mrs. Whitney joined her in the small space. “You look exactly like an artists’ model I’ve met several times downtown. Her name’s Angelica.”

“You must be mistaken. I work for Miss Helen.” Lillian looked down at her clipboard and checked something off. “Please, if you’ll walk this way, dinner is being served.”

But the woman wouldn’t be put off. “It’s remarkable, really. You could be twins.”

Only then did Lillian notice a man standing close by, having just come down the back stairwell. It was the organist, Mr. Graham. She was trapped.

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her.” Lillian was perspiring in her dress. This couldn’t be happening.

Mr. Graham stepped forward and touched her lightly on the elbow. “Miss Lilly, can I see you upstairs, please?”

He retreated into the stairwell, and Lillian, relieved, hastily excused herself from Mrs. Whitney and followed him. On the second floor, he headed south at a decent clip, a thick stack of music tucked under his arm. Had he heard Mrs. Whitney call her Angelica? She couldn’t tell.

“That woman was awfully rude, I thought.” Mr. Graham looked briefly in Lillian’s direction but kept walking. “I didn’t like the way she was looking at you, as if you were one of Mr. Frick’s enamels.”

“Thank you for that. I suppose my face rang a bell. It tends to do that.” By now he’d turned left, toward the front stairwell. They descended together, side by side. He wore a tweed suit with a matching striped blue tie and pocket square, the trim cut of his jacket the latest in fashion. At the bottom of the landing, he placed the papers on the organ’s music stand.

She should be checking in on the dining room, ensuring that the first course was ready, but first she needed to get a better sense of how much he’d overheard. “How long have you worked here, Mr. Graham?”