Chapter 4
Carrie sorted through her clothes, deciding what to keep and what to discard.
She’d been meaning to do this since first moving into the apartment after graduating from the medical college.
She had a certain image to preserve, and so most of her outfits were drab little suits in tones of grays, browns, and navy blue.
With these were several high-necked white blouses, equally simple and plain.
In the winter, she generally added a vest for extra warmth, but otherwise the outfit was the same no matter the season.
Still, she had quite a few dresses that were more feminine in nature. She had kept these for special occasions but rarely had a chance to wear them. Now she feared they were a bit girlish for her age and position.
“Goodness, I’m only twenty-four,” she murmured to her reflection in the mirror. She held a peach-colored muslin up under her chin. Mama had sent her the dress as a Christmas gift two years ago. Carrie had loved the style and fit, but she’d hardly ever worn it.
A knock on the apartment door interrupted her consideration. She left the gown on the bed and hurried to see who had come. The place was in such a disarray with crates being packed that she hoped it wasn’t Rebecca looking to visit.
She opened the door to find Oswald, hat in hand. He held up his hand as if knowing she was considering slamming the door shut. “Please, give me a moment.”
“What do you want?”
“I’ve come to apologize. I’m sorry for the way I acted at the tavern. I’m afraid seeing you there with someone else was a bit unnerving for me. Carrie, I want you back. Whatever your terms. Whatever I must do to convince you of my sincerity. I never meant to hurt you this way.”
“What’s done is done, Oswald. I am going home.” She stepped back so he could see the packing crates.
“But you can’t, Carrie. I love you. I need you. My life wouldn’t matter without you.”
She put her hands on her hips. “We both know that isn’t true, Oswald.
I suggest you stop this here and now. You forget that I’ve known you for four years, and in that time I’ve learned just about all there is to know about you.
You are smug and arrogant, conceited and self-serving.
You need no one and love only yourself.”
“That isn’t true.” He stepped into the apartment, moving toward her.
Carrie took several steps back. “I’ve given you my answer, and now you should go. I’m leaving town for good. I have no desire to work here, especially since you threatened my professional well-being.”
“It was just words. I didn’t mean a thing I said.”
“Which is my point exactly.” She shook her head. “You’ve never meant anything you said to me. I don’t think you’re even capable of the truth.”
“That’s a cruel thing to say. You know that I love you.”
Carrie heaved a sigh and shook her head. “Please just go. We’re finished, Oswald. There’s nothing left. I have other interests now.”
“Like that actor? I suppose you fancy yourself in love with him.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t speak of it to you.” She pointed to the door. “Now go. I have a lot of work to do.”
But to her surprise, instead of leaving, he charged toward her, slamming her up against the wall. Carrie let out a scream, causing Oswald to drop his hat and cover her mouth with his hand.
“Shut up, you fool. Do you want to bring the building down around us?”
“Let her go, Nelson!”
Carrie watched in stunned surprise as Spencer rushed across the room and took hold of Oswald.
He threw the man aside as if he’d been no more than a sack of potatoes.
Oswald landed in a heap on the floor, trapped between two crates.
He struggled almost humorously to remove himself from the situation.
“How dare you?” he declared, struggling to his feet.
“I might ask you the same thing.” Spencer looked to Carrie. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, surprised by the way Spencer’s dark eyes seemed to blaze. He turned back immediately to Oswald.
“I think you’ve caused more than enough trouble here, Nelson. Unless you want me to call the police, I suggest you leave.”
“I only came to apologize to Carrie.” He bent to retrieve his hat.
“Apologies include throwing her against the wall and smothering her with your hand?”
“I only wanted her to stop screaming. I didn’t mean to scare her.”
“Just go, Oswald. I don’t need to hear anything more,” Carrie said, coming forward. “This is good-bye. I’m sure if you go back to the Women’s College of Medicine to offer one of your wonderful lectures on my discoveries, you’re bound to find another female na?ve enough to believe your lies.”
For a moment, Oswald held his ground, but when Spencer moved toward him, he backed up all the way to the door.
“We were a good team, Carrie. Now I fear you’ll never accomplish what you’ve set out to do.”
Whether he meant it as a veiled threat or not, that was how Carrie took it. She thought to upbraid him, but then remained silent. He wasn’t worth the effort.
“It’s time to go, Nelson,” Spencer said, taking a step in his direction.
Oswald scurried out the door. It reminded Carrie of a rat she’d chased out on New Year’s Day. That thought made her smile.
“You are a strange woman, Carrie Vogel. Most would be in tears, but instead, I find you smiling.” Spencer closed the door.
“Well, if you’d seen the resemblance of Oswald to the rat I ran out of my apartment a few weeks back, it would make you smile too.”
“Be honest with me,” Spencer said, crossing the room. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
“No, I’m fine. He hadn’t been here all that long when you showed up.
I hadn’t meant to scream, but his actions took me completely by surprise.
Oswald has never been physical in any way.
Goodness, he never even allowed for hand-holding or putting his arm around me.
” She laughed. “I suppose I’ve been a complete ninny where he’s concerned.
His biggest attraction for me was his research clinic. What a fool I was.”
“No, you were pursuing your passion. Which is what brings me here today.”
Her brow furrowed as she narrowed her eyes. “Do tell.”
“You look as if you are examining a specimen. Relax, I just need to ask a favor. But first I want to explain why it’s important.”
“All right. Let me put on the tea, and we can sit down like civilized folks. The place may look a complete mess, but I can still act the proper hostess.”
“It’s not really proper for us to be here alone,” he replied, looking rather sheepish.
His appearance of discomfort endeared him all the more to Carrie. “You’re right, of course. Let me get my coat, and we can go down to the café on the corner. They serve a wonderful selection of pastries. I was just thinking I’d like to sample their wares once more before leaving town.”
She went to the coat-tree and took up her heavy gray tweed. Spencer helped her into the coat, then waited while she did up the buttons.
“I have to admit, you have me quite mystified as to what you wish to tell me.” Carrie grabbed her black wool bonnet and gloves. “I’m ready.” She secured her bonnet as she exited the apartment, then pulled on her gloves.
“Do you have your key?” Spencer asked, closing the door behind them.
“Oh, I suppose I should grab my purse.” He reopened the door, and Carrie went back inside to find her bag.
It was where she’d left it on the kitchen counter. She snapped it up and hurried back out. Pulling the key from her purse, she found herself eager to hear what Spencer had to say. “So tell me what this is all about.”
Spencer took the key from her and locked the door before handing it back to her safekeeping. Carrie could feel his excitement and knew that whatever he’d come to say would be quite the announcement.
They walked from the building and out into the icy air. Chicago in the wintertime was bone-chillingly cold. The dampness from the lake only served to intensify the effects.
“So you know that I’m a Pinkerton.”
“Of course. We’ve talked about that many times.”
Spencer nodded. “But I haven’t talked about a longtime project of mine for the agency . . . more so for myself.”
“And now you need to do so?”
Spencer took a protective hold of her arm as they came to a snowy spot that hadn’t been cleared from the sidewalk.
“Yes. You see, my father was a Pinkerton, and I was with him the day he was killed. I’ve been after the man who did it ever since. Well, of course, not at first. I was only ten. But when I was accepted into the agency after college, I began my pursuit of him.”
“I didn’t know your father was murdered. How terrible, and for you to be with him when it happened . . . how awful.”
“It was the worst day of my life. Even losing my mother five years later to sickness wasn’t as bad, though it hurt, to be sure.
” He fell momentarily silent, then shrugged.
“The man who is my supervisor now took me in. He was my father’s best friend, and he has helped me to pursue Eugene Astor all these years. ”
“Astor is the man who killed your father?”
“Yes.”
They reached the café and waited until they were settled inside with their orders on the way before Spencer continued.
Carrie was grateful the host had seated them by the fireplace. She was chilled through and through even though the walk was brief.
“We thought Astor was in Chicago these last few years. Letters home to his mother were postmarked as such, but now she has died, and we learned otherwise. For nearly two decades he has been working for the Union Pacific in Cheyenne.”
Carrie’s eyes widened. “My Cheyenne?”
“Yes!” Spencer’s excitement was evident in his expression as well as his tone. “That’s why I came to talk to you—to ask for your help.”
“How can I possibly help you catch a murderer?”
The waitress arrived with a pot of tea and platter of tiny pastries. She placed the dish in the middle of the table. “Would you like for me to pour?” she asked.
Carrie shook her head and motioned her away. “No, no, I’ll manage it, thank you.”