The Magnolia Palace(79)

Before they’d left, Miss Helen had instructed the head housekeeper to search every servant’s room, but the cameo remained missing. Someone had taken it right out of Mr. Frick’s hand, a gruesome thought. How did whoever took it know what they were looking for? Only Lillian knew that Miss Helen had placed it there. She prayed it would turn up soon.

Lillian spent the afternoon before they were to return working among the archives in the bowling alley. She’d done everything she possibly could with regards to her regular household duties, and knew that Miss Helen had been planning on examining the contents of several crates filled with archival documents before her father had taken ill. She figured she’d get a jump on it and please Miss Helen with her initiative, get her enthused about creating a library instead of rushing into an ill-advised marriage. The quiet of the room, deep underground, soothed Lillian, as did the act of arranging the many invoices for art purchases by date. Degas, El Greco, Manet—the total value for the bronzes and paintings had to be in the tens of millions.

Yet Miss Helen valued that cameo with the diamond most of all. If they didn’t find it, she didn’t know what would happen.

“Miss Lilly?”

A man’s voice called out from the stairway, and Mr. Graham came into view. Even though he was silhouetted by the lamps in the stairway, his thick shock of hair gave him away immediately.

“Mr. Graham. What are you doing down here?”

“Kearns mentioned I might find you. I came to pick up my paycheck.”

She’d completely forgotten, which wasn’t like her. But the week had been a strange one. “I do apologize for that. I’m a little topsy-turvy, and I’m afraid I forgot to ask Miss Helen to sign the check before she left.”

“That’s all right. I can pick it up next week. You look like you’re well in the weeds down here.”

“Yes, just going through some old records.”

She waited for him to excuse himself and leave, but he hesitated, hovering over her.

“Is all this for the new library?” he asked.

“Hopefully. To be honest, I don’t know if Miss Helen will be interested in continuing the project now that her father’s gone.”

“That would be a shame.”

“Is there something else I can help you with?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. His usual boyish charm was gone, replaced with something darker. “I was wondering, do you think the Fricks will still want me to play for them during the dinner hours? I know it was Mr. Frick’s idea in the first place, but I’m hoping you might convince them to keep me on.”

She considered it. The music might only serve to remind the family of their loss. Still, Mr. Graham had been part of the staff for some time now, and deserved at least some notice. “I will speak with Miss Helen and her mother.”

“Also, I wanted to say—this is difficult and I don’t want to alarm you—” He paused. “But just be careful.”

“I’m sorry?” She couldn’t read the expression on his face. Was he threatening her? Or trying to help her? “What are you talking about?”

“Not long ago, I overheard a conversation that bothered me. One that might cause you trouble.”

He had to be referring to her fraught conversation with Mr. Danforth, when she turned him away by acknowledging her past.

Was Mr. Graham hinting that he knew what had gone on? Would he tell the family if she didn’t convince them to keep him on the payroll? Lillian had come so far, and wasn’t about to be blackmailed by the family’s entertainer. “I have no idea what you’re referring to, Mr. Graham.”

He recoiled slightly at her aggressive tone. “No, what I’m trying to say—”

She cut him off. “If you don’t mind, I really ought to get back to work. I’ll leave your paycheck with Kearns on Monday.”

“But, Miss Lilly—”

“Enough. I said, enough.”

She stared down at the papers on the table, frozen, until she heard his steps disappear up the stairwell.

There was only so much she could handle. As soon as Miss Helen returned, Lillian had to convince her that it was in her best interest to cut all ties with Mr. Danforth and fire Mr. Graham. If not, both men would have leverage on Lillian, and could come forth with the truth about her identity at any time. The walls of the basement suddenly felt like they were closing in. A wave of desperation threatened to crash down on her, but instead, Lillian threw herself back into her work researching the provenance of the Fricks’ assemblage of Gainsborough portraits. Anything not to think of the present.



* * *





The reading of the will was scheduled for the day the family returned. Lillian got the Fricks’ lawyer settled in the library with coffee, then, once the entourage arrived, rushed with Miss Helen up to her rooms.

“Have they caught the diamond thief?” Miss Helen asked as soon as the door was closed. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her freckles flaming.

“I’m sorry, not yet.”

“There was hardly any time from when I placed it in his hand to when it went missing.”

That was true. It was as if one of the figures in the paintings had stepped down from the wall and snuck it away. “I hope it will turn up soon.”

“I don’t trust Childs, so I want you to come to the reading of the will and take notes,” said Miss Helen. “Bring something to write on.”