Chapter Eight

 

Maisie wanted to talk to Mrs. Leech again. There was definitely more to her relationship with the deceased. Especially now that it seemed Mrs. Jenkins and her brother were in the clear, at least in Maisie's estimation.

Putting this thought to one side, she watched as Lily and Lizzie admired Katie's new glad rags. Katie had joined them in the drawing area. Maisie knew Katie was putting on an act. There was a change in her demeanor.

"Katie, does your beau have a brother?" Lizzie asked in fun, but Katie shot her a look.

"No, and you be thankful you have your policeman."

Lizzie's feelings were hurt. However, Maisie knew what Katie was trying to say. Lily was admiring the necklace and earrings. Lizzie settled for looking out the window.

"You'd better go. A car has just stopped outside."

Katie look terrified as she looked at Maisie.

"Let him come to the door. A gentleman should escort his date to her carriage," Maisie said as she went to fix Katie's hair. "If you don't want to go, I'll give your excuses," she whispered into Katie's ear.

The doorbell chimed, and Lily ran to open the door. A very dashing man came through. Maisie thought Lily would faint and an audible breath escaped from Lizzie. He looked like Rudolph Valentino, and Maisie had difficulty keeping her own composure. The man took Lily's hand and kissed it. Lizzie came forward, and he took her hand to kiss it too.

"I'm ready," Katie said, drawing her beau's attention.

"My dahling, don't you look divine. I knew you couldn't stay angry with me. Let us go."

He proffered his arm and Katie slipped her arm through. They left, but Lizzy and Lizzie stayed watching them. Lizzie began to fan herself as she fell into the couch in a pretend faint.

"Did you ever see such a handsome couple? They looked like movie stars. Katie should go to Hollywood. I don't think I've ever been that close to such a man before. I can't see him on a construction site."

Lily laughed as Lizzie went on.

"What an accent. 'My dahling, you look divine.' Where do you think he was from?" Lily and Lizzie were like schoolgirls, excited by the movie star type they had met. Maisie would have joined in except, she knew where the man was from.

"He's from Russia." A cold shiver had run through her. She had recognized the accent. In fact, she recognized the voice.

He was the man from the telephone.

"How do you know? Why have you gone pale?" They asked.

"I need to talk to George, but I have to see someone. Lily, you tell George that Katie is dating the man from the phone. He'll understand," Maisie said. Lily looked puzzled as having to deliver such information. "Ask him to look into this man. Did anyone get his name?"

They shook their heads. No one knew the man's name. Katie never said. Maisie was irritated. But what was she to do? Mrs. Leech held the key she was sure of this but could Katie be involved. As Maisie walked to Mrs. Leech's house, she cast her mind back over the last few days. Katie had been eavesdropping when she spoke to George. She was involved with this shady character. But she didn't work at the exchange. What was her connection with the victim?

But, Maisie's focus was interrupted. She got the feeling that she was being watched. Pretending to look in a store window, Maisie tried to catch a glimpse of anyone lingering behind her. The people walking behind her had moved on by the time she had gotten a good look. "It's my imagination," she told herself as she set off again. Wanting to be more vigilant, Maisie stopped thinking about the case. She still couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed.

Maisie wondered what excuse she'd give for calling on Mrs. Leech. Maisie couldn't come up with any plausible excuse. She was too preoccupied with concerns about who was following her. Mrs. Leech opened the door and took a moment to recognize Maisie.

"Miss Clara. Come on through. How is that policeman?" Maisie looked at Mrs. Leech, what was the woman talking about?

The woman welcomed her in. Maisie had momentarily forgotten she'd given a false first name. It didn't seem right to correct Mrs. Leech. As they walked along the hall, two of the male boarders were going out. "Remember the door is bolted at 11 pm," Mrs. Leech said very assertively. She reminded Maisie of Miss Carnegie.

"I was about to have my supper. Would you care to join me, Clara?"

Maisie agreed. People were more relaxed while they ate and it would be a good way to get Mrs. Leech to open up.

"Officer Bantry is very well. His sister lives in my boarding house." Maisie hoped this would explain their knowledge of each other. Maisie sat at the table as Mrs. Leech set another place.

"There's plenty, so don't be shy. I miss cooking for Mr. Leech."

Maisie ate the stew which was almost on par with Mrs. Hopkins.

"This is very good, Mrs. Leech." They made small talk as they ate. Mrs. Leech was happy to have the company.

"Ready for some coffee."

Mrs. Leech told Maisie how she worked as a cook in a military hospital during the Great War. There was a loneliness about Mrs. Leech. Had this made her vulnerable to the charms of John Smith.

"Mrs. Leech, pardon me if I have the wrong impression. But I get the sense that you and Mr. Henry Jenkins were on friendlier terms."

"That was his real name? Henry." Maisie nodded. "It suits him. And you are very observant. John, I mean Henry, had a way of making you feel special." Mrs. Leech's looked off into the distance. "I'm not an attractive woman, but in John's company, I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. He was different to the others.

As I said, I keep cooking like it's for me and my husband, so it takes it toll on one's figure. You young things don't need to worry about your figures. But one day, you'll want the corset back to give you some semblance of a waist. I never expected a man to notice me in that way again.

Don't get me wrong. I run a respectable house. These men need discipline especially as I'm on my own. But John. You know I found him sitting outside reading poetry. I'm not sure if most any of the men who board with me read and there he was, reading poetry. It was romantic. From that time he would come by in the afternoons and read to me."

Maisie was right. There was something between them. But why the afternoons?

"What did John do for work if he was free in the afternoons?" Maisie asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know. He paid his rent on time every week, and I enjoyed his company too much to ask him questions. I did ask him once. But he said it was complicated, and he changed the subject. That detective asked the same question too. He wanted to search John's room, but I had already rented it out."

"Did he tell you why he was leaving?"

Mrs. Leech dabbed her eyes. "He told me he had some business to sort out, but he would come back. John asked me to marry him. He even gave me his book of love poems. It meant he'd come back to me."

The book was on her sideboard.

"Did the detective not want to take it?" Maisie was surprised that Detective Blake wasn't dusting it for prints.

"Oh, I never told him. I'm only telling you Clara because you'd understand. John never gave you a book did he?"

It seemed important to Mrs. Leech to feel this connection with the deceased. Maisie didn't want to upset a grieving woman. Someone should grieve for him, and certainly, his wife wasn't going to be the one.

"May I see the book, Mrs. Leech?"

Mrs. Leech seemed to hesitate but then relented. It was the same book as the one in Katie's room. Maisie flicked through the pages. "There it is," she exclaimed. It was the poem he had in his suitcase but what did it mean? In her excitement at seeing the poem, Maisie dropped the book to Mrs. Leech's squeal. A piece of paper floated out.

"What's this?" Mrs. Leech picked it up before Maisie would see it.

"It's gibberish," Mrs. Leech said as she displayed it for Maisie. It was a combination of letters and numbers.

"Mrs. Leech, may I take this to the police? It may help find John's killer."

The woman snatched the book from Maisie's hand.

"No, it's mine. It's all I have left of him." Mrs. Leech held the book close to her.

"I know it's difficult to let go of the last piece of John. But it could help find his killer. And you want that, don't you? When it's over, you can get the book back, I'll make Detective Blake promise."

Maisie reached out, and reluctantly Mrs. Leech gave her the book and the note. "Bring it back to me," Mrs. Leech bowed her head. She sat back in to her chair and Maisie could hear her sobbing as she left. This was too important to leave until tomorrow. She would go to the station now but it so late.

She walked as fast as she could with the book tucked under her arm. But the same feeling as before struck Maisie. Someone was following her. As she hastened her step, the footsteps behind her quickened. When she turned to look around, she couldn't see anyone.

This was evidence, and part of her was afraid something might happen to it. Maisie needed to hurry. Arriving at the station, she was disappointed to hear that Officer Bantry was off duty. "Off duty," she thought. So it meant that Lily may not have been able to alert him to Katie's beau.

"Is Detective Blake here?" she asked. The desk sergeant excused himself, but he was back within seconds.

"No, Miss, Detective Blake has gone home," the man didn't look at her face. Maisie knew it was a lie.

"Could you tell him that Miss Mills has vital evidence in the John Smith case?" The man's face turned red as he left his desk. While it didn't seem possible, the man returned even faster this time.

"Apologies Miss but the Detective is not here. Could you leave your evidence with me and I'll see he gets it?" The desk sergeant held his hand out for the book he had noticed she was holding tightly.

Maisie's blood began to boil. Detective Blake was there alright. She heard him talking. He was determined not to see her even when she had evidence.

"No, I'm afraid I cannot do that. It is something I must tell him." Maisie had noticed the desk sergeant looking at the book she held and she was afraid he would force it from her.

"Goodnight, Miss. It is best if women do not involve themselves in police matters. It is a dangerous business," the desk sergeant said as she turned to leave.

How dare he speak to me like that, she fumed as she left the rather rotund desk sergeant. Maisie couldn't remember the last time she was this angry. Dangerous, dangerous, he's telling me it's dangerous work. Why he couldn't run out the door without getting out of breath, she inhaled a deep breath and tried to calm herself.

She imagined growing into enormous proportions and picking up a tiny Detective Blake and desk sergeant. She tossed them about like they were toys and laughed as they screamed at her to be let go.

She couldn't suppress a giggle, but it still hurt that she was dismissed after all the help she had given.

With no other option, Maisie returned home. The house was quiet, and she knocked on Lily's bedroom door. There was no reply. She went to Katie's room although she doubted Katie would be home. No answer from her either. It was such a frustrating evening, no one was available to her. In her bedroom, as she lay in bed, Maisie looked at the page with the numbers and letters on it. What did it mean?

It was of no use to try to sleep. Too wound up to give her discovery its due consideration, Maisie put on her dressing gown. She absentmindedly put the note in the pocket. For some reason, she felt the need to put the book under her mattress. She needed to keep it safe.

Why was Detective Blake so obstinate? If he wasn't so pigheaded, he could have it safely in his keep. Maisie wouldn't be feeling guilty at having evidence in her possession. It would only have taken a few minutes of his precious time to talk to her. But no, he was too busy and not even man enough to face her himself.

Deciding a mug of warm milk would induce calmness, Maisie crept downstairs. Mrs. Hopkins didn't like the girls in her kitchen so she'd have to make sure there was no evidence of her presence. As she waited for the milk to heat up, Maisie was thinking about the book. It was the same book that was in Katie's room. It was too late to go prying now, but it was too much of a coincidence. Katie's gentleman friend had been the man on the phone and had given Katie the same book.

"Shoot," she said as she realized her milk was beginning to boil. She'd have to let it cool down, so that gave her time to wash and put away the saucepan. Maisie moved into the drawing room to drink her milk. Sitting by the window, she saw a car's headlights and the car stopped outside. It was Katie and her beau. Sitting back into the shadows, Maisie watched them come to the door. There was no slapping or crying this time. Katie was giggling, and her beau twirled her around.

Maisie wasn't one for romantic attachments. Was that love Katie was experiencing? It would be nice to dress up but was it real? It seemed this was what Katie wanted. Maisie felt it was a waste to focus on getting married. Surely fulfillment of one's self was the way to go. They were living in this wonderful time with more opportunities for women. Except for Maisie. Her momma would say that the war had made women think they were equal to men. Even as a young teen, this type of commentary didn't sound right. But it was her mother's way.

That was it, Maisie could see it now, Katie was a more glamorous version of her mother. They wanted a man. No, she corrected herself, they needed a man to support and care for them. Their identity was connected to the man who chose them.

Katie and her gentleman friend were almost at the door. Maisie looked away as the man leaned in to kiss her friend. Soon the sound of them kissing stopped, and Maisie watched them. Her former beau, Danny Lee had never kissed her like that. Maisie could feel herself blushing.

"Katie, dahling, I need to ask a favor." He whispered something into Katie's ear.

Maisie couldn't see Katie's reaction, but the man continued, "Dahling, I will give it back to you. It doesn't mean I am taking my love away. That's a good girl, and I have another present for you."

More kissing ensued, and Maisie pulled faces. They were talking again but Maisie couldn't hear them. As she moved closer to the window, she knocked over a lamp which brought the attention of Katie and her man.

Maisie was annoyed with herself for such a rookie mistake. She only had seconds to creep out of the drawing room into the kitchen as she heard Katie opening the front door. She didn't dare to raise her head from the floor, but she could smell Katie's perfume.

"I don't see anything," Katie said to her beau.

"My sweet, get the book, and I'll leave you to your beauty sleep," the man said.

"Okay but you promise to bring it back to me. But you have to wait here." Maisie could hear Katie say. Maisie was stuck. She could only hope that Katie would hand over the book and go to bed. As she waited, Maisie thought about what she could do if she were a lady detective. She could have taken the book from Katie's room and compared it with the copy she had when she had the chance. There was a reason for their interest in this particular copy. In her daydream, Maisie was taking issue with the man for hurting her friend. She then interrogated him about his involvement in the death of Henry Jenkins/John Smith. He confessed and the close was closed with Detective Maisie Mills again be feted by the newspapers.

The closing of the front door brought Maisie back to her senses. She could hear Katie going to her room, and Maisie went to the window to watch the man drive off. She was about to turn away from the window when a face appeared from nowhere. She shrieked. It was George who put his finger to his mouth for Maisie to hush.

"George Bantry, are you trying to give me a heart attack?" She said as she ran to the front door and opened it to let him in.

"Shush, I don't want to wake Mrs. Hopkins and Katie's gone to bed."

George followed her into the living room. He was very apologetic. Maisie turned on the light and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light.

"I am so sorry Maisie, but I thought he'd never leave. Lily came to see me earlier in the evening, saying you wanted me to follow them. It took awhile to track them, but I've been following them since on my bicycle," George declared.

"On your night off?" Maisie seemed surprised.

"You were worried about your friend, and I had nothing else on. Not that I could do much as I wasn't on duty."

"George, you are the kindest man I've ever met. Someday a good woman will come your way," Maisie said. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised really. George was a good man.

"I was hoping I had already met her," George said shyly.

"Oh George, I'm flattered, but I'm not looking for a relationship. We work very well together." Maisie hoped she had let him down gently. But George shifted in his seat.

"Oh Maisie, while I enjoy your company, and I must admit I did feel drawn to you." He looked away as he spoke, "I fear I have lost my heart to another."

He cleared his throat and Maisie tried to recover from the fact she wasn't George's crush. While she wouldn't care to admit it, Maisie's confidence took a knock. Who was this creature that made George feel this way? As Maisie tried to think on who it could be, George was rambling on, but soon he got Maisie's attention.

"You should see her dance, Maisie. It's like…" George put his hands to his heart. He was intoxicated with love.

"Who is it, George?"

"Isn't it obvious? She is Venus incarnate. I've met her here before but to see her sparkle on the dance floor. It's Katie, Maisie. Do you think Katie would ever look at a man like me?" George was a smitten kitten, Maisie thought.

Maisie knew men never looked at her the way they looked at Katie. Maisie didn't know what it was that made her friend the object of desire. But seeing the look on George's face, Maisie needed to snap him out of this silliness.

"George, you've seen the types Katie goes for. She should date you, but I doubt she ever will. Now you understand why I had you follow them. George, are you listening to me?"

Maisie had been too truthful, and George looked crushed. She needed him to focus, and he needed to believe Katie might be interested.

"George, Katie should date a man like you. You are kind and gentle. But if you help me bring down her gentleman, then you can be her hero. She might respond to that. She wants a man who will look after her."

That seemed to perk George up.