The Magnolia Palace(88)

Mr. Childs threw back his head and laughed. “All this time we’ve had the infamous Angelica under our roof? Wait a minute, didn’t Father say she was the model for the woman above the carriageway? Now standing right before us, in the flesh. That’s delicious.”

“Childs!” protested Mrs. Dixie.

“This is not a laughing matter,” said Mrs. Frick. “What on earth have you done, Helen?”

Miss Helen studied Lillian as if she were one of the portraits on the wall, taking in her shoulders, her waist, her hair, her feet. “You posed? For money?”

“I was an artists’ muse in the past. But I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Is it true that you murdered your landlord’s wife?” Mr. Childs was fully enjoying himself now, secure in his position in the family once again, having brought his sister to her knees.

“What on earth?” It was Miss Winnie’s turn to go pale.

This was all happening too quickly. Lillian couldn’t explain fast enough, not with so many people in the room staring at her. There was so much ground to cover: her mother’s death, Mr. Watkins’s proposition, Mrs. Watkins’s lifeless hand, the blood on the rug. The words wouldn’t come.

Mr. DeWitt grew weary of waiting for her response. “After I was informed of Miss Lillian’s true identity, I followed up with the investigation into the death of a Mrs. Watkins of West Sixty-Seventh Street. It does appear that Miss Lillian, or Angelica, is wanted for questioning in that case.”

Who had informed him? Most likely not Mr. Danforth, as she couldn’t imagine Mr. Childs confiding in him about the family’s current turmoil. He was an outsider, after all. It had to have been someone in the household. The only one who could possibly know about her was Mr. Graham. She remembered how he’d come to her in the basement with a warning. Could he have turned her in? With his job in jeopardy, would he have offered up what he knew in return for some kind of reward?

But that was the least of her worries. “I’m innocent, I swear.”

But the list of coincidences, all connected to Lillian, was impossible to surmount. She could tell by the looks on everyone’s faces, ranging from dismay to horror, betrayal to mockery. She was done for.

“What happens now?” asked Miss Helen.

“I’ll take her to the police station, and they’ll start an investigation,” said Mr. DeWitt.

“No!”

Mrs. Frick’s voice, usually birdlike, resonated loudly across the room. “We cannot have that kind of scandal associated with the Frick name. My husband spent his entire life creating this bastion of art and culture, and now, a week after his death, you plan to trot this woman out in public and shame us all? My daughter’s stupidity notwithstanding, I cannot allow that.”

Mr. DeWitt blinked a couple of times and looked over at Mr. Childs for direction.

Mr. Childs nodded. “She has a point. We don’t want our name besmirched. Can it be handled quietly?”

“I don’t see how, sir,” said Mr. DeWitt. “Angelica’s been missing for almost three months now. It will make news, no matter what you do.”

“Then give us a day,” said Mrs. Frick. “We’ll leave town, go up to Eagle Rock for the rest of the month, until it all calms down.”

“What do you want me to do with her in the meantime?” said Mr. DeWitt.

Lillian hated that she was being talked about as if she were a load of laundry. “Please, I didn’t do anything.”

“You lied about your identity,” said Mr. Childs. “You obtained a position on our staff fraudulently. You interfered with the affairs of my sister. You extorted money from our father. There’s a chance you poisoned him and, afterward, stole a cameo brooch and jewel that belonged to our dear, dead sister. Need I go on?”

Lillian dropped her head, staring down at the complicated parquetry floor, a series of interlocking diamonds. “I didn’t do it,” she repeated softly.

But no one was paying attention to her anymore. Her fate had been decided.

“We’ll keep her in her room until tomorrow,” said Mr. Childs. “After we leave, Mr. DeWitt can come and take her to the police station. There will be no mention that you discovered Angelica here. Can you promise me that, Mr. DeWitt?”

“I will do my best to keep the Frick name out of the police report.”

“You will be well compensated for that, as well as for so expeditiously getting to the bottom of our troubles.”

“I didn’t do it!” protested Lillian, louder this time. “For goodness’ sake, everyone in this room had a motive to kill the man.”

The collective outcry threatened to suck all of the air out of the room.

“How dare you!” Mrs. Frick said as Miss Winnie fanned her mistress’s face with her chubby hand. Miss Helen stepped up to Lillian, paused, and then slapped her hard across the face.

Lillian didn’t flinch. She deserved that, from Miss Helen.

Miss Helen turned to the others in the room. “I’ll take her upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” said Mr. DeWitt.

“There are footmen stationed at every door,” said Mr. Childs. “No one is going anywhere. Not until I give the order.”

Mr. Childs called for the housekeeper, and she and Lillian waited, without speaking, in the main hallway until the master key to the house was delivered into Miss Helen’s hand. They took the elevator up to the third floor, and Lillian took advantage of their forced proximity to plead her case again.