The Magnolia Palace(52)

Their lips touched and everything else fell away: the Frick mansion, the paintings, the scavenger hunt. The only thing left was the marvelous sensation of Mr. Danforth’s hands on the small of Lillian’s back, of how he opened his mouth ever so slightly and she responded in kind.

Somewhere far away, the muffled grumbles of Kearns sounded. Probably a delivery had arrived at the wrong door. The servants’ entrance via the basement often made it confusing.

When a shrill voice called out, “I’m home,” Lillian quickly came to her senses.

Miss Helen was back, a day early. And from the sound of it, she was coming up the stairs.

Where the door to the organ room was wide open.





Chapter Eleven


1966


These were written by someone in love.”

Joshua laid out the notes on a French baroque table in the living hall and stepped back so Veronica could lean in and study them. The logs in the fireplace snapped and hissed quietly in the background.

Veronica agreed. “They’re all quite flirty.”

“?‘The magnificent magnolia treasure.’ Huh.”

She had to ask. “Do you think it’s referring to that diamond you mentioned before the shoot?”

“The Fricks collected all kinds of objects with magnolias on them—place settings, prints—it could be referring to just about anything.”

“Oh.”

He seemed to register her disappointment. “I mean maybe, but I doubt it. So, we have numbers one through eleven out of twenty, and the first one has a date on it, 1919.”

“Who from the Frick family might have been flirting in 1919?”

“The son, Childs Frick, was married and living on Long Island then. The only family members in the house were Henry and Adelaide Frick, and Helen. I’d have to check, but I think this might be Helen Frick’s handwriting.”

“How old would Helen have been?”

Joshua thought for a moment. “Thirty-one. I remember seeing something in the Fricks’ letters about an engagement around that time, but I’m not sure who the lucky guy was.”

“Maybe we found her version of love letters. But why were they stashed away in the organ chamber room?”

“The tenth clue sent them there.” He pointed to the text. “See, here, about finding the source of the sound of music. That would be the organ chamber room, of course.”

She had been right to reveal her find to Joshua, as he knew every inch of the house, probably better than the Fricks had.

He began gathering the clues into a careful pile. “I’ll bring these to my boss as soon as the building reopens, see what he says.”

It was all she could do to not snatch them back. “Why wait?”

“I’m sorry?”

“We have nothing better to do. Let’s see if we can follow them now.”

He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Because it’s dark and cold in here with no electricity.”

“We have a lamp. That’ll give us enough light, I would think. Especially during the day, even if it’s rather gray.”

“I’m really not sure if that’s a good idea. I should check with my supervisor first.”

His tentativeness irritated her. They had a long day ahead of them with nothing to do but stare into the fire, which would mean missing a perfect opportunity to snoop around. She reached down and chose one at random. “Find the rabbit and you’ll be doing your part / The warmth of this painting will cheer my sweetheart. Rabbits? Is there a painting with rabbits?”

“Right in this room.” He pointed to the wall opposite the fireplace, where a large landscape hung. “St. Francis in the Desert, by Bellini. Considered the greatest Renaissance painting in America. It’s so popular, they have to regularly replace the carpet in front of it.”

Veronica walked over, and indeed, the carpet a few feet from the wall was threadbare. The painting showed a man emerging from a cave, with a city looming in the distance. “Where’s the rabbit?” She leaned in close. The head of a furry animal peered out of a hole in a stone wall, just below the main figure’s right hand. “Found him! It’s like he’s hiding. He’s cute, though. What’s it all about?”

Joshua hovered right behind her, as if he was afraid she’d fall headfirst into the canvas. “St. Francis received the stigmata in 1224, and the painting depicts that moment—you can see the holes in his hands there. He’s looking up at the light coming from the sky in the upper left corner. It’s all about revelation and warmth.”

“Which matches the poem. Hey, you’re really good at this, Joshua.”

“Well, thanks.” He beamed at her compliment. This was too easy, really.

“Let’s follow the trail, starting with the very last one we have,” she said. “For the scavenger hunts I did for my sister, I’d leave candy at the very end.”

“You’re hoping we might find some century-old licorice lying around?”

Or even a precious gem. She still held out hope. “What else is there to do?”

“Well, I suppose we could try.” He studied the eleventh clue and recited it out loud. “A natural beauty came from naught / Yet this lady was quite sought Out. A lover of Horatio Holding a hound Off you go Take a good look around. Huh. That’s a terrible poem. But the answer’s easy, it’s right next door.”