TWENTY-TWO

A woman in black hurried toward us. Statuesque and elegant, she made a sharp contrast to the bulldog guards, and she pushed through their ranks with regal determination, stepping between Mr. Dante and his uniformed foe.

“Blanche! My goodness! Are you all right?!”

To Madame’s obvious surprise, the woman seized her shoulders and kissed the air around her silver pageboy.

“Victoria Holbrook?” Madame stepped back to take in the sight of the polished businesswoman in the sleek black pantsuit. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

I tried to place the woman’s age—fifties, sixties? Even with her auburn hair slicked back into a chic chignon, her ivory skin betrayed few wrinkles.

“It’s been years since I’ve seen you.” Madame continued to marvel. “Why, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“We both know that’s not true,” Victoria replied, though her wide blue eyes seemed pleased by the compliment. “And I can’t apologize enough for this.” She gestured at the guards. “Stevens here noticed the private elevator had been used and informed me he was going to check it out. I had no idea it was you!”

Victoria dismissed the security guards, but the one called Stevens took his time leaving. With a frustrated grimace, he shot Mr. Dante the kind of cold, hard stare a hungry wolf gives the lucky rabbit that got away.

Quickly stepping between the angry guard and his prey, Victoria asked Mr. Dante if he was all right. When he grunted in the affirmative, she directed us back into the Gotham Suite.

“What are you doing here, Blanche?” Victoria began. “You should have informed the hotel that you were coming. We could have avoided this unfortunate incident.”

“I came to fetch our files for the Ladies’ Charity Ball,” Madame lied. “It’s that time of year again.”

I noted that Madame was not only dishonest, but she was careful not to mention the state of the ransacked office. Now her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What are you doing here, Victoria? Didn’t you move to Vienna?”

“Yes, for a short time. But I came back to the States years ago—made a home on the West Coast. Lately, I missed life in Manhattan.”

Madame shook her head. “I mean, what are you doing at the Parkview?”

“With Annette missing, I’ve stepped in to help out,” she said. “Someone had to. Someone from the family, I mean.” She leaned close to Madame’s ear. “This place has been mismanaged for a long time. And with recent events, well . . . let’s just say it’s gotten much worse.”

“Have you called on your niece to help?” Madame asked. “With Tessa’s own successes in the hotel business, I’m sure she’d be an asset.”

Victoria visibly tensed. “Annette wouldn’t like that.”

“But I thought Annette and Tessa were close?”

“They were, but . . .” Victoria seemed reluctant to reveal more.

“Tell me, please,” Madame urged. “I’d like to help, if I can.”

Victoria appeared to be fighting emotion—and trying to decide how much to say. With a polite nod to Esther, me, and Mr. Dante, she pulled Madame a few feet away.

Their backs were to us as Victoria began to talk in hushed tones. I signaled Esther and Mr. Dante to stay quiet and stepped a little closer to eavesdrop.

“. . . and as you probably know, Blanche, my late brother’s daughter used Annette’s connections to get her hotel chain off the ground. But Annette confided in me that Tessa Simmons did something recently to upset her. I don’t know what, but something led to a bitter argument. And given what’s happened . . . well, I have a sick feeling Tessa—or perhaps someone close to her—is behind this whole ugly mess.”

“By whole ugly mess, you mean—?”

“My sister’s bizarre abduction, of course. I can’t bear to think that it’s anything worse than that. I’ve been waiting for a ransom note. I’m desperate for one, if you want to know the truth. I’ll pay anything to get Annette back. But we’ve had no contact from anyone. Nothing. The police still haven’t been able to trace a getaway vehicle . . .”

Hearing that, I thought about Matt’s mobile machinations, and didn’t doubt that motivated criminals could beat almost any surveillance system.

“The police have theories,” Victoria went on, “but no solid leads, including no proof Annette and her captor crossed state lines. So there’s no FBI, not yet, anyway. The case is still under local jurisdiction. And the NYPD detectives tell me your former daughter-in-law can’t tell them anything, either.”

“That’s right,” Madame replied. “Our Clare is back, but she was hospitalized with a damaged memory. We don’t know if she’ll ever regain it.”

“You know what I can’t stop thinking?” Victoria said. “If anything happens to Annette, Tessa is set to inherit the Parkview. What does that tell you?”

Madame expelled a breath. “Do you really think she’s capable of murdering her own aunt? I never knew Tessa very well. I did meet her some time ago, at the opening of her first boutique hotel in Brooklyn. She seemed like a sweet girl.”

“She was, Blanche. It’s true, but she was barely out of her teens then. A lot has changed since she began that Gypsy hotel chain with her college friends. She’s not so sweet anymore.”

Victoria’s voice turned anxious, almost fearful. “I admit, I have no proof. I wish I did, but I suspect Tessa wants control of the Parkview for gravitas, to prop up the reputation of those cheap, trendy lodgings she peddles. I conveyed my suspicions to the detectives on the case, but they seem convinced this is a revenge scheme on the Brewsters for past actions. I’m at my wit’s end, Blanche. If there’s anything you can think of to help—or if your daughter-in-law remembers something, anything—please let me know. I want my sister back . . .”

Her voice broke. As she wiped away tears, Madame took her hand and squeezed.

“I know it must be hard,” she soothed. “You’re right to step in and manage the hotel, despite the pressure on you. Someone must, until the authorities find out what really happened.”

Victoria nodded, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to dry her eyes. “You’ve always been so kind, Blanche. I—”

Just then, we all heard a ding. The sound sent tense anticipation through every one of us. The elevator we rode up in was about to deliver another passenger to the foyer.