Chapter 43

There were a few moments of quiet before a muffled wail rose from the next room that could have come from something caged. The cry started low and rose to a pitch I was not sure I had ever heard before. It ceased abruptly, and there was silence once again. The door to the drawing room remained shut and unmoving.

The company sighed. The second course, I was fairly certain, would be delayed until Stanley and the rest of his crew returned from dealing with Bonnie. In the meantime, we waited.

I watched the baron shake his head at a question by John Senior while Maw tut-tutted to Johnny. Anne looked at her husband at the other end of the table and sipped her champagne, while Malcolm clenched and unclenched his napkin.

I watched him lean ever so slowly toward Elsa. She was playing games by speaking in a lower and lower voice, requiring him to lean toward her to catch what she was saying. He was bent sideways from the waist like the leaning tower of Pisa, presenting her with his left ear while looking straight ahead. I was fairly certain he didn’t dare look at her directly for fear that he might be caught glimpsing at more than just her face.

Bruni watched him too and whispered to me, “Mother can be so wicked. She’ll bite his ear. You watch.”

“Really?”

“Once at a dinner party, I saw her do the same thing. Her partner wouldn’t look at her and leaned over farther and farther, until she suddenly nibbled his ear. The poor man lost it. He stood up, knocked over his chair, and fled the table, never to return. I am quite sure he thought my father would skewer him before we had finished dessert. Papa does have a fearsome reputation. Mother thought it was hilarious.”

“You have quite the family.”

“Tell me about it. What about yours?”

“Not much to tell. I’ve seen them only on occasion since I can remember.”

“I met your parents once some years ago at a dinner party in Paris. They seemed quite dazzling — larger than life.”

“To me as well. I don’t know them, really. They’re usually going off to other places. Have been for years.”

“Does that make you sad?”

“In a way, but there are compensations. The Dodges have been very good to me, but to answer your question truthfully: yes, the subject makes me sad.”

Bruni touched my hand for a moment. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“Don’t be. I’m used to it by now, or fairly used to it. Let’s talk of other things.”

“Of course. I said I had more news.”

“Yes, you did.”

“I learned Miss Leland has been busy trying to have her mother ruled incompetent by the courts. She isn’t, of course, but there are several members among the many boards of directors she sits on who feel the daughter might be more pliable and open to their ideas. There has been an effort to solicit several doctors’ reports to that effect.”

“It might work, but Mrs. Leland could simply counter that with reports of her own, unless Bonnie was able to convince her mother to relinquish control and stick to her dogs and horses. Judging from the performance tonight, Bonnie must think she has that well in hand.”

“I think so too. Blackmail of some sort is my suspicion, but what exactly I have no idea.”

“We all have skeletons hanging about. Mrs. Leland is probably no exception. You seem to know a fair amount about her.”

“I did some checking on both of them after the offer disappeared so fast.”

“You have suspicions?”

“I do. It seemed contrived to me, like someone put the offer up because they had to, but the sale had already been prearranged.”

“Someone has been busy.”

We were interrupted by the arrival of Stanley and his team. Stanley quietly briefed Mr. Dodge and Maw. The table as a whole leaned in their direction, but Stanley had mastered the art of communicating in a voice so low that we heard nothing. He straightened up and, accompanied by his helpers, marched back into the kitchen. Anne gave her husband an inquiring look, which John answered with a shake of his head, indicating there was nothing to worry about.

After a few moments, the team reappeared, bearing soup. Tonight’s was a simple consommé with brunoised seasonal vegetables. Wineglasses were filled, and once again silence reigned.

Course followed course in rapid succession among the glitter of candlelight on silver. Sole for the fish, and beef tenderloin for the main course, interspersed with salads and small slivers of fruit. Dessert was Dagmar’s signature pound cake with vanilla ice cream.

Anne announced that it was time to pass through to the next room, and dinner came to an end. Bruni whispered to me as we walked out, “Catch me before you retire. I’d like to slip outside and see the night. The moon will be up.”

We separated, and I stepped closer to Johnny as the men made their way to the library.

I asked quietly, so only he could hear, “How did you manage to slip her that tincture?”

He smiled. “You noticed.”

“Of course. Her expression told me. Stanley, I am sure, guessed.”

“More than guessed. He suggested it.”

I stopped short and turned him to face me. “You’re kidding.”

“Truth be told, I’m not sure what I gave her. I went over to find out about the announcement from the folks, when he slipped me a small bottle. Four drops, is what he said, no more, no less. I doctored Bonnie’s drink and managed to hand it to her. The rest was easy. She was swilling the champagne and drank it all in one go.”

“What do you think it was?”

“Not a clue, but I must admit, when it comes to that woman, I heartily agreed with whatever he had in mind. He bought us some time, I think. I mean to see him in a bit and get more information just to make sure.”

“Bruni gave me some as well.” I recounted what she had told me.

“Makes sense. I wonder what Bonnie has on Maw. It must be pretty big. Unless, of course, Maw is toying with her to see how far she’ll go.”

“That crossed my mind too. She’s crafty. Your father was pretty calm.”

“He rarely shows his thoughts, as you know. Remember our poker lessons?”

“Don’t remind me.”

John Senior over the years had taken great pleasure in fleecing us out of our allowances on a regular basis, particularly over Christmas holidays, when we were flush with tens and twenties. He called it “tuition.”

“Did you get anything out of the tall one?” I asked.

“M. is a woman: Marianne Thoreau. She and Alice were close, but Marianne disappeared shortly before her death. She has been seen occasionally in the company of Lord B., if that tells you something.”

“Betrayed, do you think?”

“Not enough information. Let’s smoke a cigar and drink some good liquor. Things are too weird not to. I need a break.”

“Amen.”

We joined the others in the library.