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FREDDIE HAD JUST RETURNED from work at seven o’clock when he heard an unexpected rapping on his front door. Scowling, he opened the portal to see Evangeline. Before he could even question her presence, she barged past him and dropped to a seat on the sofa.
Scanning the reporter’s bachelor flat, she remarked, “I see you still haven’t hired a manservant.”
“Can’t afford one.” He shut the door.
“No?” She sounded skeptical. “Someone who can afford a flat in a ten-story elevator building fronting on Lake Shore Drive should have the means.”
“We’ve been through this before,” he said in an exasperated voice. “I’m not dipping into my trust fund to support an extravagant lifestyle. The Tribune and our detective work both pay well, but not well enough for unnecessary luxuries.” He took the armchair beside the couch. “What are you doing here?”
Evangeline absently tossed her reticule and gloves to the side. “I just spent the afternoon giving Perdita a tour of Hull House.”
Freddie raised his eyebrows. “I would have expected her to enjoy that, but the look on your face tells me otherwise.”
“Oh, she enjoyed the settlement house immensely. So much so that she expressed a desire to stay there always.”
Freddie leaned forward and clasped his hands. “That doesn’t sound so terrible.”
“Do you realize Perdita has never even met her fiancé?”
“Never even...” Freddie trailed off. “I just assumed she must have done at some point.”
“Her mother arranged the entire thing because Hettie said that Perdita could never survive on her own. Furthermore, Hettie doesn’t want to foot the bill for Perdita’s maintenance now that she’s come of age.”
Freddie gave a low whistle. “That’s cold-blooded.”
“Maternal instinct, my foot!” Evangeline exclaimed irritably.
“What?”
“Perdita and I had a long discussion about the so-called natural role of women. Someone has been filling her head with nonsense about some innate maternal instinct that all women possess. She doesn’t need to look any farther than her own mother to disprove that idiotic hypothesis.”
“We have to get her away from her family,” Freddie murmured softly.
Now it was Evangeline’s turn to sit up at attention. “Exactly so, my friend, but I expected to employ a good deal more arm twisting to get you to come round to that conclusion.”
“I like her,” the reporter said simply. “After the time we’ve spent together in the park, well...” He trailed off helplessly. “I think she’s a very sweet girl.”
“Have a care, dear boy. You may be falling in love.” Evangeline smiled archly.
“A fat lot of good that would do me,” he retorted. “Now that you’ve shown her Hull House, she’s bound to turn into a suffragette spinster reformer. Besides...” He cast a furtive glance at his friend. “You know how I feel about you.”
Evangeline gave a deep sigh. “And you know how I feel about matrimony. Until our legal system recognizes wives as something more than a chatty breed of two-footed livestock, you will never see me marching down the aisle on anyone’s arm. I have no desire to dwindle into some male’s chattel.” In an unexpected move, she reached out to rest her hand on Freddie’s forearm. “My dearest friend, neither you nor any man is a match for me.” Her tone was uncharacteristically solemn. “In all sincerity, I advise you to find a girl with a pretty face, a yielding disposition, and limited imagination whose highest aspiration in life is to become some good man’s wife.”
Freddie stood up abruptly and walked toward the front windows that overlooked the street eight stories below. He remained silent for a full minute before turning to face his visitor. “That’s the sort of life you think I want?”
“Isn’t domestic bliss what all men want?” Evangeline asked blankly.
“For someone who so loudly asserts the right of a woman to choose her own path in life, you don’t accord men the same privilege,” he rebuked tensely.
Evangeline appeared genuinely puzzled by his words. “Have I said something to offend you?”
Freddie returned to his chair and gazed at her earnestly. “What if I don’t want domestic bliss? What if I want a life of adventure? What if I revel in being a detective-reporter? One can’t seriously pursue options like those with a wife and half a dozen offspring clinging to one’s coattails. Matrimony for a male adventurer is as much a prison as it would be for a female with similar inclinations.”
Evangeline peered at her partner as if seeing him for the first time. “Why, Mr. Simpson!” she exclaimed.
“You’ve never called me that before,” the reporter observed suspiciously.
“It’s because I’m seeing you in an entirely new light. You’ve managed to do something that no other man has ever done.” She paused to consider the notion. “You’ve surprised me.” She tilted her head to study him. “In all honesty, it had never occurred to me that you might want a life that isn’t ordinary.”
“It’s your fault, you know,” he countered. “I used to want an ordinary life, but you’ve ruined me.”
“How is that?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with suppressed humor.
“Much to my grief, I seem to have developed a taste for intelligent women.” Freddie grinned back at her when he uttered the comment. “I can no longer tolerate ladies who bat their eyelashes and simper at me.”
“Nor can I, and I was never enjoined to marry one.” Evangeline hesitated a moment. “Then, where does that leave us?”
Freddie shrugged. “Right where we were before, I expect. The same as always.”
“For the record, I like the same as always,” Evangeline observed softly.
“So do I, Engie,” her partner remarked in an equally soft voice.
They shared a comfortable silence for a few moments before Freddie changed the subject. “Since you’re here, we might as well put that intelligent female brain of yours to use and figure out how to help Perdita.”
“As you wish, my dear associate. You haven’t told me everything you gleaned during your rides with our young friend. By the way, how is your horsemanship coming along?”
“Surprisingly well. I’ve figured out how to make Hurricane stop and start at will. Even got him up to a trot yesterday, though I suspect he only did that because he wanted to keep up with Arabella.”
Evangeline chuckled. “Perhaps this new skill of yours may come in handy on some future case.”
“I’ll start loitering around Washington Park to see if I can pick up any jockey business for us,” Freddie offered dryly.
“Enough nonsense.” The lady held up her hand, laughing. “I know you’ve told me snippets of your conversations with Perdita via our brief telephone calls, but I’d like you to start at the very beginning and relate everything you can remember of your talks. Something may prove relevant in hindsight that didn’t seem so at the time.”
“Remember?” Freddie echoed in an offended tone. He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew his reporter’s notebook.
Seeing it, Evangeline rolled her eyes. “Oh, Lord. Not that blasted notebook again.”
“I am a reporter,” Freddie asserted with great dignity. “My notebook is the principal tool of my trade. You can be sure that after every ride in Lincoln Park, I jotted down our entire conversation verbatim. A court reporter couldn’t have been more accurate.”
“Very well.” Evangeline waved him on. “Proceed.”
For the next half hour, the two detectives analyzed and discussed every word that passed between Freddie and Perdita during their rides. Once they’d finished going over the material, Freddie sat back and waited for Evangeline to offer some observation.
She rubbed her head in concentration. “Doesn’t it strike you as improbable that two men should die of heart failure shortly after marrying Hettie Vangilder?”
“Not improbable if she’s simply a fortune hunter. Women like that go out of their way to find aging husbands with weak hearts.”
“Perhaps,” Evangeline conceded. “But it’s harder to explain two children both born posthumously.”
“I’ll admit that the timing of those births couldn’t possibly be a coincidence, but I can’t see a motive for it.”
“I can,” Evangeline asserted ominously. “If we agree that Hettie Vangilder married these men to improve her finances, she wouldn’t want to part with any of her windfalls. A doting father might become sentimental about his progeny and establish a trust fund for his children shortly after birth. Hettie didn’t want to take the risk of her share of her husband’s fortune being diminished by multiple births.” Evangeline scowled. “Ha! Maternal instinct indeed!”
“And I thought her matrimonial arrangements for Perdita were cold-bloodedly self-serving.” Freddie shook his head.
“Oddly enough, Hettie seems to have some parental feeling toward Cassius,” Evangeline observed. “No doubt because he’s as odious as she is. They have an odd ritual of toasting one another over some private victory. Perdita has expressed an interest in ferreting out the nature of their secret business.”
“Hardly a secret,” Freddie snorted in derision. “If Hettie is really the Spider, then she must have enlisted the support of her son in her operations, and they toast to celebrate their nefarious victories.”
“Quite likely.” Evangeline seemed lost in thought as another idea struck her. “Do you think you might be able to use your contacts at the newspaper to trace her background? I’m not sure it will amount to anything, but I find myself wondering if two husbands were all she had.”
Freddie’s eyes grew wide with amazement. “You think she’s made a career of killing off multiple husbands?”
“I wouldn’t put anything past her. And while you’re at it, see if you can track her whereabouts during the past two years. Perdita said that Hettie spends months at a time in Europe each year. I’m sure our English friends will be able to give us details of thefts attributed to the Spider. It might be interesting to see if her travels tally with a European crime spree during the same time period. The society pages and passenger lists of ocean liners leaving New York ought to give you a good start in that direction.”
Freddie scribbled some instructions to himself in his notebook as Evangeline retrieved her belongings and stood to go. “While you’re doing all that, I intend to call on our good friend Doctor Doyle.”
“Our resident expert on poisons? Why?”
“Perdita said her mother still keeps a bottle of digitalis on her dressing table even though she isn’t troubled by a heart condition. I’d like to find out why.”