“I know meeting him was a shock, Antonia,” Inez said. “In truth, when you first told me about this mysterious ‘Mr. Brown,’ who your mother said would show up and rescue you both, I doubted his existence. After all, you only heard of him and his visits from your mother and never actually met him. I thought perhaps she had invented him to give you hope of a better future as she struggled to make a life for the two of you. However, from what he told me just now, it sounds like he truly cared for your mother and had no idea the two of you had come to such a sad state of affairs in Leadville.”
Antonia had stared into her mug, sloshing the liquid so it swirled inside.
Inez tried again. “Mr. de Bruijn says the letters and money he sent to your mother were never delivered. The hotel clerk where you initially stayed—”
“Stop!” Antonia clapped her hands to her ears. “I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t believe anything he says. He’s a liar! Why is he even here?”
Inez abandoned her tea to give Antonia a hug. After the girl calmed down Inez returned to her chair. “To answer your question, Mr. Gallagher hired him to find his son Robert Gallagher, the man we knew as Jamie Monroe.”
Antonia cupped her hands around the mug. “What does Mr. Brown care what happened to Jamie? Who is he?”
“He’s a…” Inez hesitated, “…a sort of detective.”
“A policeman? But he doesn’t wear a uniform.”
“No, not a policeman.” Inez hesitated again. “He works for private hire. Wealthy people such as Mr. Gallagher hire people like him to investigate, ferret out the truth, find things and people.”
Antonia sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Well, he must not be very good if he couldn’t find me and Maman in Leadville, and if it took him this long to figure out that you and I came here.” She glanced up at Inez. “You trust him?”
“He is invested in finding out what happened to Jamie. As long as our interests align, yes, I trust him.”
“Some people will believe anything a con artist tells them,” Antonia muttered.
Inez leaned over her cup of tea. “What did you say?”
“It’s just when you’re on the streets, like Maman and me were in Leadville, you learn not to believe everything you hear.”
“I know a thing or two about confidence artists, cardsharpers, and flat-out liars,” said Inez. “And yes, I trust him. To a point. Beyond that, well, we should reserve final judgment.”
Antonia slumped in her chair. Inez placed a gentle hand on hers. “Antonia, long ago, I said I would take care of you, and I will. He cannot change that or anything else between us.”
Antonia’s clenched hand relaxed under Inez’s fingers.
Inez continued, “However, you are to be civil to him. And no more cutting school, sneaking around, or eavesdropping. What possessed you to go directly to Mr. Gallagher with what you heard?”
Antonia squirmed. “You sounded like you were in a fix. Mrs. Sweet wasn’t gonna help. I thought I could. I figured I’m just a kid, a girl. I figured Mr. Gallagher wasn’t going to do anything to me.” She looked down at her mug. “I guess it wasn’t such a good idea.”
“We are in agreement on that point. So, do I have your promise? No more truancy or eavesdropping?”
“I promise. I won’t cut school, and I won’t go listening at doors or peeking through keyholes.”
Her earnestness only increased Inez’s suspicions. She vowed to herself to watch what she said and check the various entrances and exits before holding any sensitive conversations in the back room.
Which raised another concern.
If she was going to put a considerable effort into finding out what had happened to the young Mr. Gallagher, she would have to be away from the store for portions of the day. Nico could not be counted on to cover for her. And John Hee, although he was quite knowledgeable about a variety of instruments and the various Oriental curiosities they had for sale, was strictly backroom. Most of the clientele had no issue with who might be behind the curtain doing repairs, but to have a man of Chinese extraction visible and acting as an expert or store manager would not do.
So, she needed to find someone to fill in for her, a temporary assistant manager, as it were. Someone trustworthy, who knew the musical world, preferably a pianist such as herself. Someone immediately available. Someone like Thomas Welles. Welles had a family to support. He didn’t have a day job at the moment. And, a big plus, Nico knew and trusted him. She resolved to talk to Nico about it first thing in the morning.
Finally, there were the questions: Who had killed Robert Gallagher or, as she thought of him, Jamie Monroe? And why? Those questions, more than all the rest, kept her tossing on her feather bed and staring at the shadows on the wall.
Thus, the bells seemed particularly hellish when they erupted the next morning before sunrise. Inez dragged herself out of bed, completed her toilette in record time, and nudged Antonia through their morning routine. The girl looked as if she’d slept no better than Inez.
“Do I need to walk you to school this morning to be certain you arrive?” Inez asked pointedly.
“No’m.” Antonia ducked her head over the morning porridge Inez had prepared.
“Good. I look forward to hearing how your lessons went today. I may be out when you come home, but will be back in time for us to go to Mrs. Nolan’s for supper together.” Inez added, “I am going to see
