William was indeed ready to give her a ride the following afternoon, and they arrived outside of the department store a few minutes before three in the afternoon. The stone building was massive, six stories tall and taking up half a block. Huge bronze and glass doors along with tall sparkling display windows took up the entire lower floor. Victoria knew what was on every floor, for this was one of her favorite stores. Webster’s had items that couldn’t be found anywhere else, and she never missed a shopping trip to it whenever she was in the city.
The carriage had barely rolled to a stop when Lincoln appeared next to it on the sidewalk. Victoria told herself the hitch behind her breastbone was merely excitement at visiting the store, not at seeing him. Yet she did admit that he looked as handsome as ever in his gray suit, burgundy vest and neatly tied ascot.
“Are you ready to go shopping?” he asked, while holding out a hand.
She hooked the handle of her small leather purse over her wrist and made sure her green cape was still tied beneath her chin before taking a hold of his hand. “I am. Have you decided what you’re going to purchase?”
“No, that is completely up to you.”
There was still no reason that she could comprehend why it was so amusing to bicker with him at every turn, yet couldn’t stop from doing just that. “She is your sister.”
“She is your best friend, and I’m sure you know her likes and dislikes more than I do.” He stopped near the massive front doors. “This is a large store.”
“Have you never been here before?”
He shook his head. “I never go shopping.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“What about Christmas or birthdays?”
He shrugged. “Mother tells me what she’ll buy for Audrey and Father from me, and Audrey tells me what she’ll buy for Mother from me.”
She should be shocked, but as he’d been talking, she’d remembered shopping with Audrey for a birthday gift for their mother from him during a visit last fall. “There’s never anything you need to purchase?”
“Clothes from my tailor, shoes from the shoemaker. Anything else, I just tell someone what I need and they get it for me.”
Just because it was the truth, she shook her head at him. “I feel sorry for you.”
“Why?”
She grasped a hold of his hand and tugged him towards the door. “Because you have no idea what you’re missing.”
A doorman opened the door and held it for them, and in every direction, there were employees ready to help. Shop girls wearing freshly pressed green-and-white-striped dresses, and male clerks wearing starched green-and-white-striped shirts, white bow ties and gray pants.
“The first floor is seasonal merchandise,” Victoria explained. “At Christmas time last year, they had huge trees in the windows, all decorated, with little trains beneath them on miniature tracks, and this entire floor was full of toys. The second floor is household goods and materials, the third floor is children’s, the fourth is women’s, and the fifth is men’s.”
“The sixth?” he asked.
“Offices, I assume.”
He chuckled. “I certainly brought the right person with me. Shall we take the elevator or the stairs?”
“The stairs,” she said, tugging him along the central aisle that led to the wide marble staircase. “That way you can see everything below as you walk up and down.”
“Very well, the stairs it is.”
She hadn’t been here since Christmas, and scanned the display tables, shelves, and floor displays as they walked up the stairway. Umbrellas, lawn chairs, badminton and croquet sets, as well as many other spring items were nicely displayed, including a variety of bicycles. She had yet to try riding a bicycle, but was very curious about them.
At the top of the steps, they turned to continue on the next set of steps, and she asked, “What floor did you want to start on?”
“Women’s.”
“Women’s?”
“Yes. Audrey is a woman.”
She had put some thought into what he could possibly buy, and felt the need to point out, “I know she is a woman, but you are buying a wedding gift, so it should be something for both her and Jake. I assumed we’d looked for something on the household floor.”
“Oh, well, maybe, but let’s still start on the women’s floor.”
She readily agreed, in part because he might have something in mind, and because she wanted to see the newest displays. This was where she’d purchased the leather purse with its stiff handles and clasp that she was carrying. She’d never seen them anywhere else and everyone who’d seen hers had wanted their own. Every woman, that was. She also had the most wonderful pair of lined gloves for winter wear that she’d purchased here last fall.
“This is a big store,” he said. “A nice store.”
“Did you expect elsewise?”
“I don’t really know.”
Shocked, she asked, “Surely you’ve noticed it while driving by?”
“On occasion, but I never wondered what was inside.”
Still in utter surprise, she asked, “Why not?”
“I suspect because I have other things on my mind,” he replied.
“Such as?”
He shrugged. “Work, cases, clients.”
That didn’t surprise her. She knew from past visits and Audrey’s letters that he was very committed to his work. “Well, I imagine this is the most popular store in all of the city,” she said. “You can find things here that you can’t find anywhere else.”
“Interesting. Did you have a difficult time getting away from the house?” he asked as they traipsed to the third set of stairs taking them to the fourth floor.
“No. I simply said I had some shopping to do. Audrey was busy with correspondences and your mother was having a luncheon with her library charity group.”
Her eyes had already gone to a display of what appeared to be shorter than usual skirts when they arrived at the top of the steps for the women’s floor. A man was standing there. Not a clerk, because he was wearing a black suit.
“Mr. Dryer,” the man said.
Lincoln shook hands with the man. “Mr. Webster, allow me to introduce Miss Biggs. She’s come along to assist me in purchasing a gift for my sister.”
“Miss Biggs, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise, Mr. Webster,” she said, wondering why Lincoln had said he’d never been here. He clearly knew the owner. In all the times she’d been here, she’d never seen Mr. Webster before. Not that she should have. It’s just seemed odd for him to have met them at the top of the stairs.
“Victoria, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with Mr. Webster for a few moments,” Lincoln said. “Perhaps you could have a look around, see if anything catches your eye?”
She knew a dismissal when she heard one, and didn’t mind because his conversation was none of her business. That’s what she told herself in an effort to quell her curiosity. “Certainly. Excuse me.”
There was much to see, things she wanted to examine closer, yet none of it was stealing her attention. She moved to the clothing racks, yet kept an eye on where the two men had moved closer to the wall, almost hidden behind a dress form wearing a lovely yellow brocade cape.
Mr. Webster was perhaps a few years older than Lincoln, and had a narrow black mustache and long sideburns. The two of them appeared to be in a deep discussion about something.
“May I help you?” a young sales girl asked.
“I’m just browsing,” Victoria replied, turning her attention to the rack of shorter than normal skirts.
“These are part of our new rational clothing line,” the sales girl explained. “They are clip skirts.” Lifting the bottom of a skirt the girl demonstrated how the skirt had several buttons and buttonholes near the hem. “These are perfect for bicycling. You can unbutton the side and button them around your knees so the material is out of the way while pedaling. We also have new corsets that have elastic, making them far more comfortable.”
“Interesting,” Victoria said, very fascinated.
“We also have bloomers right over here.” The sales clerk turned to another rack. “Many women find them even more practical while riding.”
The bloomers reminded Victoria of men’s pants, just prettier because they came in an array of colors with lacy hems.
“Do you ride?” the sales girl asked.
“No, I have not tried it yet.”
“Oh, you must. I ride my bicycle to work every day.”
“You do?”
“Yes, it’s much faster than finding a cab. Mr. Webster allowed me to purchase one on payments. Several other employees, too. We love them.” The girl gestured towards the staircase. “We have a wide variety of bicycles for sale on the first floor. The new safety bicycles, with two wheels the same size, are much easier to control than the ones with the large front wheel, and the chain guard protects...”
As the girl continued, several things went through Victoria’s mind. Much of it was about how she did want to try and ride a bicycle, especially the new ones that were becoming the rave, but she also was amazed by how well informed the sales girl was about the subject. However, foremost on her mind continued to be Lincoln. He and Mr. Webster were still talking behind the mannequin.
She couldn’t help but wonder if Mr. Webster was a client of Lincoln’s. The idea of asking him about her case had crossed her mind more than once. She truly didn’t want to wait until his father returned.
Lincoln listened with deep interest as John Webster continued his reasons for needing to sell the store. According to John, his father, Alfred Webster, who had started the store twenty years ago, had been murdered in the alley behind the store late one night last November. The police had determined it had been a random robbery. That “thugs” had assumed he must have had money on him, perhaps a deposit for the bank, but John said nothing had been removed from his father’s pockets, and that his father never transported deposits to the bank himself. Nor had any thugs ever been arrested.
Then in January, John had received an offer from a brokering agency to sell the store. When he’d refused, he’d begun receiving messages that if he didn’t sell, what had happened to his father would happen to him. Webster didn’t want to sell, but had a family to think about, especially now that the threatening messages had begun to include his wife and children.
Lincoln may have heard of Alfred Webster’s death, but couldn’t say for sure. Obituaries filled the newspapers weekly and the retail market had not been one that his law firm had been overly involved in. “You believe Blackwells is coercing you into selling your store?” Lincoln asked, for confirmation of what he’d just heard.
“It’s not Blackwells,” John said. “It’s Alderman Kelley. He’s got his thumb on the mayor and is ruling businesses in the city with his taxes and tariffs. He’s also now the owner of Blackwells. He bought them out, all four stores, last year. Though he’s using an investment company, making it look like he’s not involved. I’d asked my lawyer to write up a contract, but he refused, afraid to get involved. I’ll understand if you feel the same.”
“I have no qualms about getting involved,” Lincoln said. In fact, this was exactly what he’d been looking for. It sounds like Kelley was trying to get rid of all competition for his other department stores.
“Let me further my explanation,” John said. “It might change your mind about agreeing. The brokering agency suggested a contract wasn’t needed. I insisted it was due to my father’s will, which isn’t completely true, but I was hoping to buy enough time to find a lawyer who was not afraid of taking on Kelley. He’s buying up retail businesses—actually, his investment companies are—and could soon own all the major retailers in all the boroughs, from furniture companies to department stores. He’s attempting to build himself a monopoly.”
Lincoln knew Phillip Kelley had been taking kickbacks from deals he’d made during his political career for years, but he hadn’t known the extent of it. How Kelley was using front companies, like the investment ones that John was talking about. That could explain why even though there was plenty of suspicion, the ties directly to Kelley hadn’t been apparent.
“He has the mob protecting him, too,” John said. “They are under his thumb as much as the mayor.”
“That’s how he keeps getting elected,” Lincoln supplied. “The mob is out there, coercing the poor neighborhoods that Kelley’s the only one they can vote for, or they’ll lose their meager jobs, apartments, or their lives. He’s using every avenue to coerce votes.”
“I love this store,” John said. “My father loved it. Worked hard to make it one of the most popular in the city, and I have money to fight this, but I do have to think about my family. Their safety.”
“Of course, you do,” Lincoln said. “Do you know of other owners facing buyouts?”
John shook his head. “No, I don’t. There are more, I guarantee it, but they are afraid of talking. They know what happened to my father. It wasn’t a random robbery like the police say, but there’s no proof. Nothing I can do.”
Lincoln nodded. He knew that Victoria was watching them, and that others could be, too. “I’ll need a copy of your father’s will because there very well could be a legal way to tie it to any sale, and I’ll need any and all information you have on Kelley and his investment companies.”
“I’ll tell you all I know, but I don’t know how much help it will be.”
“It’ll help, and I’ll also put my own investigators on it, but I think we should keep this under wraps for as long as possible. We don’t want anyone knowing I’m working on it. You can write up all you know, courier it to my office. I don’t think we should be seen together, nor should we trust telephone lines.” Though he didn’t say it, he wondered if he’d already said too much on the telephone yesterday.
“I will include a few social engagements that I will be at in the coming weeks with the papers I send to your office,” John said. “Perhaps we could briefly speak at them.”
“Perfect,” Lincoln said. Figuring they’d spent enough time alone together, he then said, “Now, I need to buy a gift for my sister’s wedding. Something unique and different. Out of the ordinary, for her and her soon-to-be husband.”
“May I offer a suggestion?” John asked after a thoughtful moment.
“Please.”
“We are the only store that sells the new diamond-framed safety bicycles, for now anyway. They are becoming very popular with the younger crowd.”
Lincoln nodded, slowly at first, but then the idea really resonated. He didn’t know much about bicycles, other than that they were growing in popularity. That alone was something that Audrey would enjoy. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Bicycles.”
“Allow me to show you them to you,” John said. “They are on the ground floor.”
They walked around the display tables and racks full of women’s clothing to where Victoria was examining a display of hats. Lincoln had noticed how she’d kept an eye on him and John during their conversation, and wasn’t surprised when she stepped around the table to meet him.
“Have you found anything?” he asked.
She smiled at both him and John. “I’ve found a floor full of wonderful things, but I’m afraid not anything suitable as a wedding gift.”
“Mr. Webster has provided me with a suggestion.”
Her perfectly shaped brows arched in question. “Oh? What is that?”
“Bicycles,” he replied, watching her expression.
Her face took on a glow as her smile grew. “I never thought of that. Audrey would be so surprised, I’m sure she would. I believe Jake would, too.”
“That’s what I thought,” Lincoln agreed.
“Well, then, shall we go down to the first floor?” John asked. “We have several models to choose from.”
Once on the first floor, it didn’t take long to pick out two bicycles and arrange to have them delivered to the house next week. Lincoln figured he’d give them early, just to satisfy his sister’s curiosity. “Is there anything else you’d like to look at while we are here?” Lincoln asked Victoria after John Webster had left them and he’d paid for the bicycles.
“No, I can come back another day,” she replied. “I do believe you picked out very unique gifts. Audrey is going to be shocked, and excited.”
He agreed, and wondered if he shouldn’t have purchased a third bicycle, considering how Victoria had examined the bicycles with what he’d considered a longing gaze. “Shall we be on our way, then?”
“Yes.”
Lincoln had never thought much about being seen with someone, and perhaps was only now because of the issues that John Webster was facing. The entire store was most likely being watched. Today, he noticed people looking his way. Men and women, and had to note that it wasn’t him they were admiring, it was Victoria. Though most of her peach gown was covered by her green cape, the colors went well together, which wasn’t by chance. The green silk scarf that matched her cape was looped over the top of her hat and tied beneath her chin in a way that enchantingly framed her face. “Is there anywhere else you wish to stop this afternoon?” he asked as a doorman opened the large glass door for them.
“No, I’ll just have William take me home.”
“William isn’t here.” He gestured up the road, where his carriage and driver waited. “I assumed you’d ride home with me. I’m done for the day.”
“Very well.”
His carriage was enclosed, which he was glad about because the day had turned blustery and gray, suggesting it could rain before they arrived home. “Thank you for your help today,” he said, once they were settled on the single seat.
“You’re welcome.” Looking at him, she asked, “Is Mr. Webster a client of yours?”
With client privacy in mind, he replied, “I’d never met him before today. Who better to ask for a unique gift than the store owner?”
She nodded. “True.” After a brief, thoughtful moment, she asked, “Do you have a lot of clients right now?”
“Enough, but I had completed my work for the day before leaving the office, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
She glanced out the window on her side of the carriage. “No, just curious.”
Noting the sky turning darker outside his window, he asked, “What is on your agenda tonight?”
“Nothing. Audrey is having dinner with Jake and his family tonight. You?”
“Nothing,” he replied, with a shake of his head, whereas in all actuality, he’d be making a few telephone calls to find out more information on the death of Alfred Webster as well as the company that had purchased Blackwells. A thought formed, and considering she was much more educated on department stores and shopping than him, he asked, “Have you ever been to a Blackwells department store?”
“Yes. Many times.”
“Did you like it?” he asked, fishing for more information.
“I used to, but the last few times I’ve been to the one close to Tarrytown, I’ve been disappointed. The store had been purchased by someone else, and they don’t have the same quality of merchandise that they used to, nor the variety. I was looking for a new lamp to replace one that had been accidently broken, and found one, but I really don’t care for it.”
“How long ago was that?”
“January.”
“How do you know they are under new ownership?”
“I asked.” A moment later, she continued, “I didn’t recognize anyone working there and always had in the past. I’d also noticed that their hours had changed. They are now open on Sundays. I didn’t share that with my family because I knew it would upset my grandfather. He’s set in his ways and believes no one should work on Sunday.” She let out a sigh. “Their prices have also changed, increased substantially, and that hurts the residents of Tarrytown. They can’t afford to pay extravagant prices for everyday needs. Yet with other stores closing, Blackwells is the only option for things.”
He probably shouldn’t take advantage of her knowledge of shopping and stores, but he trusted her opinion. “Why are other stores closing?”
She shrugged. “From what I hear, they can’t compete with Blackwells, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, because Blackwells had been there for years and it wasn’t a problem in the past.”
He asked several other questions about Tarrytown and the businesses as they traversed the city streets, wondering why Kelley would have purchased that store when it wasn’t in his district. It all simply added to his list of things to have investigated.
Luckily, they arrived home before the rain hit. Once there, he went to his second-floor study and made notes from his conversation with her and with John Webster, before he telephoned a few trusted men to research more information.
He’d just returned the receiver to its holder when a knock sounded on the door. “Come in.”
As the door opened and Victoria appeared in the doorway, Lincoln rose to his feet, then quickly crossed the room to hold the door as she carried her paper-wrapped picture into the room.
“May I show you something?” she asked.
“Certainly.” Once she was in the room, he closed the door. “May I help you with that?”
“No, I have it. I’ll set it on the table, if that’s all right?”
“Sure.”
The room was large, hosting shelves filled with law books, framed maps, and awards on the walls from his school days, a fireplace hosting a fire just large enough to chase off the chill from the rain pelting on the windows, and a couch, table and chairs, besides his desk. The table was on the far side of the room from his desk, and he crossed the room to click on the light above the table.
She’d already set down the picture and was carefully removing the paper, then she lifted a thin piece of wood off the frame and set it aside with the paper.
“That’s a nice picture,” he said, simply being kind because in truth, he didn’t see anything about the painting of flowers worthy of hauling it so far or keeping it so protected.
“I lied,” she said, kneeling down. “It’s not one of my grandfather’s favorites, it’s simply one of three that hang in our drawing room.” Eye level with the picture lying on the table, she gazed over the glass. “You might have to kneel down to see it.”
He walked around to her side of the table and knelt down next to her. The picture didn’t catch his attention nearly as much as the faint, floral scent filling his nostrils. He’d noticed her perfume earlier in the day, and liked how it wasn’t overpowering. It matched her personality, which wasn’t overpowering, either.
Her gaze was still on the picture, and he tried to focus, to see what she was looking at. The light from the bulb overhead was reflecting off the glass, and in order to see better, he raised a hand to block the shine from the bulb.
She grabbed his wrist. “Don’t touch it.”
“I wasn’t going to touch the picture,” he said, amazed that someone could be so protective over a painting.
“Can you see that?” she asked, releasing his hand to point at the side of the picture. “Right there. Along the side, do you see those four fingerprints?”
He saw smudges on the otherwise clean glass that might be fingerprints, but didn’t move to get a better look. “I’m sure Mrs. Owens can clean that for you.”
“I don’t want it cleaned.” She grimaced while shrugging. “That was another lie. They were both just white lies for good reason.”
“Oh? What’s the reason?” he asked.
“Those are fingerprints, and I’m going to use them to prove who stole ten thousand dollars out of my grandfather’s safe.”
Concern and shock rippled through him. “Ten thousand dollars?”
She nodded. “Yes. Right there, along the side of the picture, you can see where someone grasped a hold of the frame to move the picture. The prints prove it.”
“They could be fingerprints, but they don’t prove anything.”
“Yes, they do. This picture hangs in front of my grandfather’s wall safe. There are hinges on the back for it to swing open. The hinges are on the opposite side from the prints. Proving that’s where someone grasped a hold of it to swing it open and reveal the safe door. I hung a different picture in its place when I took this one down.”
Lincoln scratched the back of his neck. She was convinced of her beliefs. He, though, had more questions, several questions, and started with the most relevant. “How did they get inside the safe?”
“They had asked my grandfather to put something in there, and must have watched him open it, figured out the combination.”
He was concerned for her. Having money stolen was no little issue, especially ten thousand dollars, but she was grasping at straws. “Victoria—”
“I’m not imagining things, Lincoln.”
“I wasn’t close to suggesting that.” He chose another route. “Is whatever the fingerprint person had asked your grandfather to put in the safe still there?”
“No, because he asked my grandfather to retrieve it for him, again, while he was in the room. It was a watch, that he said he didn’t want to lose, but then asked for it back when I refused to go for a walk with him. However, then he stayed for dinner, but before dinner, he used the water closet. I think that’s when he stole the money. The rest of us were in the front parlor, waiting for dinner to be served.” She stood up and set the wood back over the glass. “This past winter, I read an article about how a suspect in a murder case was proven by her fingerprints.”
Rising to his feet, he didn’t know if he should be humored or concerned over her choice of reading material, but he had another more pressing question. “Why did you refuse to go for a walk with him?”
“For one, it was cold outside, and for two, I didn’t want to go for a walk with him.” Changing the subject, she said, “The article I read explained how everyone’s fingerprints are unique, that no two are the same. Not even for twins.”
Attempting to be as tactful as possible, he said, “Fictional stories about solving crimes can seem—”
“It wasn’t fiction,” she said. “And I know some people might think my grandfather foolish for keeping so much money in his safe, but he doesn’t have a lot of trust in banks and insists that we need to have enough cash on hand so that if anything were to happen to the banks, we’d still be able to live comfortably.”
The seriousness of her expression said that she fully believed in what she was saying, and he had to admit that her story was increasing his concern. Someone could have stolen money from her family. However, he was still looking for a solid line of reasoning. “Perhaps those are your grandfather’s prints on the glass.”
“No. He’s the one who taught me to open it only by the frame, because smudges on the glass might alert someone that something is behind the picture. Furthermore, I’m the only one who goes in the safe. My grandfather rarely does. That day was unusual, only because of the request. Otherwise, he would have asked me to open it. That’s what he always does. I opened it two days later, to take out some money for my trip here. I keep a tally and know exactly how much is in there at all times. The bottom shelf had five stacks of bills, ten thousand in each stack, and the top had eight-hundred and seventy-five, before I took some. I rearranged the stacked bills, so if my grandfather looks, he won’t notice the missing money, because I don’t want him to know until I’ve proven what happened.”
“Why?”
“Multiple reasons,” she said.
Questions were piling up in his mind and answers such as that were only creating more. He knew her family history, somewhat, mainly through Audrey.
“I’m wondering if you could help me prove my case?” she asked.
She didn’t have a case, yet Lincoln couldn’t say that. She was too convinced that she did. “How do you plan on proving whose fingerprints those are?”
“In a court of law. You will question him about being in the house that day, and then make him put his fingerprints on another piece of glass. The jury will see how they match perfectly, and case solved.”
He withheld the want to shake his head. “I’m assuming that’s what happened in the book you read.”
“Article. It was in an English law journal, and yes, that’s how it happened. The jury saw the evidence and the woman had no choice but to confess.”
If only things were that easy. She was looking at him with such expectancy, he hated to disappoint her, but couldn’t indulge her, either. “In order to take a case to trial, we’d have to have enough evidence to charge this fingerprint person.”
“I do have enough evidence. His fingerprints. He was at the house and ten thousand dollars was missing after he left.”
“Did you contact the police? File a report?”
“No, I didn’t want anyone to know. Can’t you do that?”
Why did some people think lawyers were miracle makers? He’d encountered that before. “I’m sorry, Victoria, but there’s not enough here to make a case.” He gestured towards the picture. “Some smudges on glass—”
“They aren’t smudges.” She picked up the paper and laid it over the wood, folding it around the edges of the frame. “They are fingerprints. Four fingerprints belonging to Elwood Kelley.”
Lincoln’s spine stiffened. “Elwood Kelley? Alderman Kelley’s son?”
She picked up the picture. “Yes.”
More than concern was causing his nerves to spike. “How do you know him? Why was he at your house?”
“Because he’s one of the suitors my mother has encouraged to call upon me.” She walked towards the door. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
He opened his mouth to stop her, but closed it. Elwood Kelley was as corrupt as his father, and accusing him of stealing could bring down the wrath of his father on her entire family.
Lincoln quickly crossed the room and grasped a hold of the doorknob. “You didn’t bother me. I’m very sorry for your loss of money, but I think you need to just let this one go.”
Staring at the door, waiting for him to open it, she said, “Thank you for your opinion.”
It was more than an opinion. It was a warning. One he would have to make sure that she heeded. She could get hurt, seriously hurt, and he wouldn’t allow that to happen on his watch. If anyone needed to be saved, it was her, not him.