Twenty-Six

As the door closed behind the girls, I stood in a frozen scene with my brother. I was behind the desk and he stood before it with a sour expression on his face.

“Alden, you lied to me. Not just to me, to Whitbread. I saw Clara, and she told me you weren’t home when Leeder was killed. You came home, demanded money, and then left. Money, Alden? What did you need money for? Where did you go? And why didn’t you tell us that you left? Did you kill Mr. Leeder?”

I shocked myself with that last question. Never had I believed Alden would do such a thing, but I found myself asking anyway.

A look of dismay crossed Alden’s features. He was as surprised as I was that I would ask such a thing. “No, of course not. I did not kill Arnold Leeder. What are you thinking, Emily? You know I would never do something like that.”

“Then where were you? And what was the money for? Alden, surely you didn’t ask Clara for money so you could run away to California with Kathlyn Williams? Tell me you’d never do something so crass and vulgar?”

He stared at me, then turned away. He couldn’t look me in the eye.

How could he do such a thing to Clara? “Alden, answer me. Is that what the money was for?” I desperately wanted a different explanation. “Or was it to fund some wild film project of yours? Is that it?” A film project no doubt involving Kathlyn Williams.

“Yes,” he said softly. “That’s it. I have a project with Selig. Only he needed more money. It’s a secret, you see, because it means moving the animals out to Los Angeles.” He looked up, but stared at the wall in front of him. “It’s for Clara in a way. Clara doesn’t need me, she needs to be rid of me. She’ll be better off. She and the children. You’ll see.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I don’t know what I’d hoped for, some fantastic explanation of all of it, perhaps. But he had none, just the indigestible facts. He was leaving Clara and getting her to pay for it. How our parents would have been saddened by his actions. “Oh, Alden,” was all I could say.

There was a brisk knock on the door followed by Detective Whitbread’s head. “Have you seen Selig? No one seems to know where he’s gone to.”

I said nothing. I just stared at Alden, willing him to tell Whitbread the truth of where he was the night of Leeder’s death. Instead, he turned restlessly and said to Whitbread, “He was just here. He was going upstairs to see the filming on the Oz set. Penny and Lizzie are up there. They ran away this morning to come up and see the Oz film, and Emily was very upset when she found them.” He shot a glance at me but he had no intention of correcting his testimony for Whitbread. I was speechless. “Excuse me, I have another scene to see to.” Alden hurried past Whitbread and out the door.

I stood, raging inside, but undecided whether to call him a liar again in front of the detective. The longer I waited, the more difficult it would be to explain my reticence. But I couldn’t do it.

“I must have missed the colonel on the third floor,” Whitbread said. “Or perhaps our paths crossed while he was in transit. In any case, it appears his office is available. We have new evidence, and we need to interview Alonzo Swift again. Come, let’s go find him.” He turned to leave but, when he saw me hesitate, he stopped. “Emily, is something wrong?”

I swallowed. “No, it’s nothing. I’m ready.”

When he began to lope off, I followed him. I needed to ask Col. Selig about this secret project with my brother. I counted on those questions eliciting an alibi for Alden. That way, his absence from Hyde Park would be discovered without me having to call my brother a liar. Clara had enough to worry about. It sounded like Whitbread had evidence against Alonzo Swift and that needed to be dealt with first.

Upstairs, Whitbread once again had to bide his time before he could talk to Swift. The actor wore a thick layer of makeup and extra wiry eyebrows, mustache, and beard. His suit was brightly colored with wide lapels and a top hat, both covered with sparkly gold. He was being attended to by people tweaking his outfit. Meanwhile, Otis Turner was yelling, as the witch and her minions approached Dorothy. I saw they were at the place in the story where she kills the Wicked Witch of the West with water. The girl tossed the bucket and Turner yelled, “Stop!” Everyone froze. Only the witch jumped away, then someone lit a small smoke bomb and Turner yelled, “Ready, set, go!” and everyone moved again, looking astonished that the witch had disappeared. It took me a moment to realize that, on the film, the witch would have been there and gone…like magic. Lizzie stood with her mouth open, and I saw Fitzgibbons watching intently across the way. I suspected he’d be joining us when we questioned Alonzo Swift.

They quickly moved to the next set where the handsome actor, as the wizard, sat on a throne while young women in short dresses that were a sort of uniform, with tall hats to match, did a dance. Then someone made a proclamation and the wizard jumped down and put the scarecrow on the throne, relinquishing his crown. Another move took them to a box that was meant to be hanging from a balloon, although there were only ropes, and bags of sand, and men above in the rafters to haul the contraption up as Oz floated away, minus Dorothy, who left to chase after Toto once again.

As soon as the production had moved on to Dorothy’s finish, and Alonzo Swift had descended, Whitbread took the man by the arm and beckoned to me to follow them back down to Selig’s office. Fitz headed towards us, as I’d anticipated. I looked around and saw neither Alden nor Kathlyn Williams. The girls were following the little actress who played Dorothy, and I saw a happy-looking Babe Greer with a hand on each of their shoulders. They would be all right for the duration, so I scampered after Whitbread.

Inside Col. Selig’s office, Whitbread stood behind the desk, clearing the space in the middle, then he opened a large paper bag and carefully placed some shredded items on the blotter. Alonzo Swift, Fitz, and I gathered round to view the pieces.

“These were found on Mr. Leeder’s body,” Whitbread said. “They are naturally much damaged by the attack.” He pointed a long bony finger. “This is material from Mr. Leeder’s linen shirt.” It was a mangled piece marred by dark bloodstains. “These are pieces of a white silk scarf or muffler.” In the second mound, the scraps were mostly torn to threads, but a few squares of bright white stood out. Alonzo Swift, who was still wearing his Oz costume, moved restlessly in his chair. I remembered seeing him with a white silk muffler around his neck. “And this is the most interesting of all.” Whitbread pointed to a smaller pile of faint blue tatters. “You see, here? This is a bit of paper that indicates ‘First Bank.’ The rest is torn off, but you can see these are pieces of a check. You see that?” He looked across at Alonzo. “Mr. Swift, do you recognize any of this?”

“No, certainly not,” Swift said. “What do you mean?”

Fitz bent forward to try to make out more of the scraps of the paper check. “Yes, Detective Whitbread, what are you getting at?”

“I believe these remnants may help us identify Mr. Leeder’s killer. I believe he was attempting to blackmail someone and that he met them that night in order to extort money. I believe the person enticed him into the cage by offering the check but then locked him in and left the animals to do his dirty work.”

“You don’t mean you think I did that?” Alonzo Swift stared at him, open mouthed. “Why ever would I do such a terrible thing? I’m afraid of those beasts, you won’t find me near them, and Leeder was…well, not a friend exactly…but a colleague. Are you trying to say he was blackmailing me? For what? I assure you, he was doing no such thing.”

“I’m suggesting that Mr. Leeder knew of your desire to keep information about your wife and children back in Maryland out of the newspapers. He found out about their existence and threatened to alert the press unless you met his demands. I’m suggesting you had to give in to his threats, so you pretended to go home drunk, then returned with a check, which you gave him. But then you locked him in with the leopards and, in a struggle or by accident, you left behind the scarf. Perhaps Leeder grabbed it from you, in an attempt to get you to release him, and he was mauled to death, while you returned to your hotel and claimed to have been there all night. Miss Greer herself either slept through it all or unwisely supported your story, due to her affection for you.”

Alonzo Swift stood up straight and shot a glance at Fitz across the desk, then protested to Whitbread. “You’re mad. And what’s more, you’re completely wrong. I never left my hotel room…I was passed out. I dare you to prove otherwise. Mr. Fitzgibbons, help me out here. This is insane. That is not my scarf, I assure you. Every scarf I own can be accounted for by my valet. And, as for the bank check, my bank is Wells Fargo, a fact that may also be easily ascertained. I was not being blackmailed by Arnold Leeder, I promise you.”

“And yet Miss Greer appeared to be under the impression that you would soon be proposing to her, despite the fact that others at the studio are aware of your wife and children.”

“Detective, we explained that is a publicity matter,” Fitz said.

Swift held up a hand. Despite the rather ridiculous outfit he was wearing, he projected a certain amount of dignity. I remembered then that he’d been a Shakespearean actor before moving to the films. “Please, my marital circumstances are indeed private. However, I can assure you that I have not been misleading Miss Greer. On the contrary, you can ask Col. Selig. For some time, there have been private negotiations under way to obtain a divorce settlement from my wife. In fact, we recently reached consensus and the agreement was signed, as a result of which Miss Greer and I will be announcing our engagement at the release of our next film. Get Selig in here, he’ll tell you. Even if Leeder was aware of my family in Maryland, there would be no reason for me to kill him to prevent discovery of so public a situation. Our private agreement will result in a quiet divorce and a generous settlement for my wife and children. The fans will quickly be distracted from those details by the news of my engagement to Miss Greer. These plans have been in the making for quite some time.”

“You see, there was no reason for Mr. Swift to wish Mr. Leeder harm,” Fitz said. “None at all.”

“Excuse me.” Babe Greer had been knocking softly on the door and, when there was no response, she finally opened it and stepped inside. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I wanted to be sure Alonzo was all right. Is there something the matter?” She looked quite happy despite her concern for her beau.

“This is a police interview, Miss Greer, and I’ll thank you to not interfere. As long as you’re here, please enter. Close the door, if you would,” Whitbread said. “Mr. Swift has been informing us of his upcoming divorce from the wife who has borne him four children. You were aware of this?”

It was bluntly said, on purpose I knew, but Babe Greer merely blushed and ducked her head. Then she moved to Swift’s side and took his hand. “Yes, of course. That’s all being worked out, and only yesterday we were discussing the announcement of our engagement. Col. Selig wants us to time it for the release of our next picture.”

Fitz relaxed but Whitbread was angry. “I see. Tell me, Miss Greer, do you recognize these scraps of white silk, by any chance? Could they be from a scarf or muffler belonging to Mr. Swift?”

She looked toward the pile of brilliant white scraps spoiled by horrid stains of blood. I thought he was trying to shock her into an admission and frighten her with the thought that the man she so admired might have committed the awful deed of locking Leeder in with the leopards.

“No, I don’t think so. They’re only scraps, aren’t they? But Alonzo isn’t the only person with an expensive white silk scarf like that. Why I saw one on Kathlyn Williams only the other day.” She clasped Alonzo Swift’s hand and looked up into his eyes.

Whitbread was fuming but I was merely shocked. If Alonzo Swift really had no reason to fear exposure, it was difficult to believe Leeder might have blackmailed him. And that meant there was no reason for him to kill the man. The shreds of paper from the check did seem to indicate Leeder might have been blackmailing someone, or that he’d done some business that night. I ground my teeth as I stared at the pieces of paper. Alonzo Swift might use Wells Fargo for his banking but I knew Clara used the First Bank of Illinois for hers, as did I. And I knew their checks were of the same pale blue as the bits of paper before me. That made me afraid.