CHAPTER

30

Cigar, Glover?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I selected a cigar from the box James Kline held out to me and nodded my thanks. I snipped off the end as Kindle had taught me and leaned forward for the light James offered, puffing a few times until the tip was lit, inhaling deeply and exhaling. “Excellent,” I said, amazed I’d managed not to cough. A warm sense of well-being flowed through me, and I puffed again. I was growing to like the taste and feel of smoking cigars. Besides the feeling of complacency, practicing smoking for almost two days had transformed my voice from a deep alto to a rough tenor perfect for my disguise.

The role of Samuel Glover had been surprisingly easy to slip into. He was a doctor from upstate, a friend of a friend of the Dockerys, who was appealing to Hazel to fund a hospital for indigents in Buffalo. It had the dual benefits of being an easy subject for me to converse on, and also being a subject my fellow diners would care little about and know less about. As such, I was able to give short, succinct answers and spend more time asking questions. No one looked twice at the little man with a full beard and spectacles. Meeting James in the parlor before dinner went off without a hitch, though I had an almost uncontrollable urge to slap him across his hirsute face. James shook Samuel Glover’s hand, spoke politely, and let his eyes wander off. I followed his gaze to Beatrice Langton.

I’d survived dinner without raising suspicions and was now smoking cigars and drinking brandy with the men in the billiards room. It was the part of the night I’d most looked forward to. It offered me the best chance to learn something new about the Langtons, as well as giving me access to a sanctum I’d always longed to join. Now that I was here, I realized it was as shallow as the women’s conversation in the drawing room, only the subjects were different.

“Why are you smiling, Glover?” James asked. “You must tell me the joke.”

“Oh.” I chuckled. “I was thinking of something Hazel—Miss Dockery—said today. She didn’t mean it as a joke, but I can’t help but find it humorous. If she is to endow my hospital she insists it should offer privileges to female physicians.”

“Miss Dockery is known for her eccentricities.”

“Indeed she is. I was warned as such, but never expected such a demand.”

“Did she say why?”

“Apparently she’s been inspired by Catherine Bennett’s case. She’s quite on her side in the whole matter.”

James’s head jerked back. “Did she know Catherine?”

“Only slightly. Dr. Bennett examined her once. She, Miss Dockery, wasn’t impressed with Bennett’s lack of enthusiasm for Hamlin’s Wizard Oil.”

James laughed. “I would imagine not.”

“Did you know Dr. Bennett?”

James paused. “We were childhood friends but had grown apart over the years.”

I stared at the tip of my cigar. I’d expected the lie, but to hear it stung. “Indeed?”

“Yes. I couldn’t agree with her decision to pursue a man’s profession instead of something more suitable.”

“Such as marriage?”

James scoffed. “I doubt there are many men who would put up with her independent streak.”

I drank deeply from my brandy snifter. “I read in the Times she’s back in town.”

“It would seem so. Idiotic thing to do. They’ll find her and hang her.”

“Do you think she did it?”

“Of course. Who else?”

I chuckled, when really I wanted to gouge James’s eyes out. “I wouldn’t know. I’m from Buffalo, remember? How is Mrs. Langton holding up?”

“Beatrice?”

“Yes. I would imagine it would be a tax on her nerves that this Bennett woman has returned.”

“Beatrice is made from stronger stuff than that. She’s confident the police will find Catherine and arrest her. She didn’t have many friends to begin with. She has fewer now.”

“So it would seem,” I murmured. James didn’t seem to hear.

I studied James. He looked extremely well and prosperous. His clothes were of a finer cut than they had been a year earlier and he now had long, bushy sideburns that made him look older than his thirty-two years. “What is it you do for a living, Mr. Kline?”

“I’m a lawyer. I’ve recently been made partner.”

I hid my shock behind exclamations of congratulations. James had always been a middling lawyer. How had he gone from delivering papers to George Langton at almost midnight to partner in a little more than a year?

“I heard Langton was going into politics before he died.”

James looked at me full on for the first time. “Why are you so interested in the Langtons?”

I held James’s gaze steadily as I puffed on my cigar. “One of us has to keep the conversation going, and since you don’t seem too interested in me, why should I feign interest in you?” I blew smoke in James’s face. “Excuse me while I search for someone more interesting to converse with.”

I watched the billiard game and answered when spoken to and asked a few inane questions, but James’s question had spooked me. I needed to deflect attention from Samuel Glover, and became more of an observer than participant. No one seemed to mind. They were likely afraid I had wangled the invitation with Hazel to ask for money.

Bored with billiards and wondering when we would be released to return to the women, I sat down in a wing chair and hid behind a newspaper. I was reading about Boss Tweed and Tammany Hall when I heard James’s name. I turned my head slightly to the side and saw Judge Sheridan standing near my chair talking with another man I couldn’t see.

“I don’t like him, and I know George didn’t. Didn’t trust him a lick. A fawning climber, and you’ve helped him get there.”

“But his kind is the easiest to control, Bertram. As long as we have someone in the state house who will do what we ask, it doesn’t matter who it is,” Sheridan said.

“That’s all George was to you, wasn’t he? Someone you could control.”

“He was a beloved son-in-law. You know I was devastated when he was murdered by that woman. As was Beatrice.”

Bertram Langton scoffed. “She seems to be over it now.”

“It’s been over a year. She’s a young woman who is very much in love.”

“George is rolling over in his grave.”

“George would want Beatrice to be happy.”

Bertram Langton walked away without answering. “Let’s rejoin the ladies, shall we?” Langton said to the room at large.

I folded my paper, placed it on the table, and rose as Judge Sheridan walked past, his narrowed eyes never leaving Bertram Langton’s back.

“Word to the wise, brandy and cigars with the men is the same as tea and cakes with the women. Its enjoyment depends on the company.”

“Did you find out anything interesting?” Hazel asked.

“Yes.” I watched James go straight to Beatrice Langton and her face light up when she saw him. My stomach twisted as a repulsive idea began to form in my mind.

“Well, what?” Hazel said.

“I will tell you later.” I moved across the room and sidled my way into a conversation with Bertram Langton and an elderly woman. We spoke on generalities, the weather, travel, the woman’s longing to travel across the country by rail.

“It is a long, arduous journey,” I said.

“Oh, have you done it?”

“Once. Only to Cheyenne.”

“I hear Cheyenne is perfectly heathen. Is that true?”

I smiled. “Mostly, but there are good people to be found everywhere.”

Bertram Langton smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s a nice sentiment.”

“You don’t believe it?” the woman said.

“I used to.”

The woman’s face fell and she moved off rather quickly. Langton smiled and shook his head. “Never fails.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“Allude to George’s death and they scurry away, like rats.”

“George was your son?”

“Yes. You haven’t heard the story? It’s all over the newspapers, once again.”

“I have, but I wasn’t sure of the relation. Let me offer my condolences.” My throat constricted. “I hear he was a good man.”

“Yes, he was.”

Langton’s eyes were riveted to Beatrice and James.

“I suppose you are as eager as everyone else to see the Bennett woman hang for her crime,” I said.

“If she did it, I am.”

“You don’t think she did?”

“I know he wasn’t having an affair with her. If she wasn’t a spurned lover, what motivation could she have possibly had to kill George?”

“Maybe it was one-sided, on her part. He refused her.”

He nodded. “I believed that for a long time.”

“What changed?”

A bell rang and Bertram Langton’s face hardened. I followed his gaze along with everyone else’s to the front of the room. James and Beatrice stood in front of the fireplace along with Judge Sheridan. “Our host, Bertram Langton, gave me permission to speak to you tonight. First, I want to thank Bertram for his hospitality and wonderful company. We, Bertram as the father-in-law, and I as the father, would like to announce our daughter’s engagement to Mr. James Kline.”

The reaction in the room was part gasp, part knowing exclamation. Servants materialized with trays of champagne. Beatrice beamed up at James, who put his arm around her and looked at her with an expression I’d seen directed at me once before, long ago. “James has been a staunch friend of the family during the last year,” Judge Sheridan said. “Imagine our pleasant surprise when their friendship turned to love. Bertram told me, and I agree, George would be happy for them both.” Sheridan raised his glass, as did the rest of us. “To the bride and groom. May they have a long, happy, and prosperous life together.”

I raised my glass, said, “Hear, hear,” and drank. Bertram Langton lifted his glass to the couple, placed it on the nearest table, and walked out of the room.