Chapter 21
“Stop!” Bert yelled as he reclaimed the revolver.
Judith froze in midstep and turned. “I feared that gun might go off again. You could have hurt someone,” she chided. “There’s no call for guns. Please put it away.”
She hoped he would be sane enough to register what she was saying. He was clearly confused about the reality of the situation. Judith kept calm, hoping she could keep him distracted enough to refrain from any more gunplay.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you, Judith.” He looked for a moment at the gun and then to where Roman still stood by the liquor cabinet. “Bring me that drink!”
Roman nodded and moved with slow, deliberate strides toward Bert. Judith knew that the gun was less of a threat now. Bert hadn’t thought to recock it. Still, it was loaded and could end the life of anyone Bert chose to shoot.
“Please, Bert, just put the gun on the desk or even back in your pocket,” Judith encouraged. At least those places would make it harder for him to use it.
“No, I don’t trust Dr. Turner.”
“Then send him away.” Judith doubted Roman would leave her, but it was worth a try.
“I can’t. We need witnesses . . . for the wedding. Where is Winchell? It shouldn’t be taking so long. He might have run off . . . gone for the police.”
“Nonsense. We would have seen him.” Judith motioned toward the windows. She had pulled the draperies back that morning, and it was easy to see most of the front lawn.
Bert walked a few paces toward the windows. “Yes. Yes, we could have seen if anyone had tried to leave.”
“As I said, Winchell is just busy. My maid is probably trying to find the perfect outfit. You do want me to look my best, don’t you, Bert?” She smiled to put him at ease. It seemed to help.
“You always look your best, but I hate that you’re wearing black for that abominable man. I should have killed him long ago.”
Judith felt her stomach clench. Had Bert killed her grandfather? “What do you mean, Bert?”
“He was a terrible man, as you well know. I mean, his business practices were bad enough. He was wretched, and he didn’t care who he hurt.
I remember your father, Dr. Turner. I hadn’t been here working that long when Ashton tricked him.
He told me that property was the best in the city, and he would have it for himself.
Of course, your father didn’t wish to sell.
He wanted to build houses . . . apartments .
. . some such thing. He wanted to make it very affordable, but nice.
I remember him telling Mr. Ashton about his plans.
That greedy old man pretended to be excited about it.
“He had me write up a contract that would trap your father in a hopeless game. There was no chance of him ever getting to build those apartments or houses.”
Bert rubbed his temple with his left hand, while the gun remained in his right. “Mr. Ashton cheated him. He had me set the terms differently than what was originally planned. Your father signed the papers without going over them. He trusted Mr. Ashton, as far too many people did.”
He grimaced as if in great pain. “There was no hope of your father making the payment due. None whatsoever. He tried. He went to his friends, but there was little that could be done. Ashton celebrated that evening with champagne. Did you know that, Dr. Turner?”
Judith looked at Roman, expecting to find him angry. Instead, he seemed perfectly at peace. She heard something. Footsteps. In the hallway just outside the door. Roman seemed to hear them too and hurried to keep Bert talking.
“It’s good of you to share the details, Bert. I didn’t know exactly how he cheated my father. But I can understand why you wanted to kill Mr. Ashton. I wanted to do it myself when I learned what he’d done.” He brought Bert the drink and extended it. “Here you go.”
Bert stopped rubbing his temple and took the whiskey.
He downed it quickly. “I certainly thought about it for a long time, but then he got sick, and I figured I wouldn’t have to do the job.
But . . . well . . .” He smiled at Judith.
“I was tired of waiting so that we could marry. You told me you couldn’t even consider me while he was still alive. ”
“And that’s why you killed him?” Judith asked. She heard murmurs of someone speaking low. She raised her voice slightly. “You killed my grandfather so that we could be together?”
“Yes. I had to do it. And the fight was gone out of him anyway. He was asleep, and I took a pillow and smothered him. He only tried once to push me away, and then he gave up.”
Judith swallowed the lump in her throat. She looked at Roman, who, after having given Bert the drink, had positioned himself between Black and Judith.
“Would you like another drink?” Roman asked Bert.
“No. I want to be sober for our wedding.” He walked closer to the window, stopping long enough to put the glass on Judith’s desk. “This will all be mine. The most beautiful house in all of Minneapolis.”
“Would you like to live here once we’re wed?”
Bert turned with an expression that suggested she was the one who’d gone mad.
“Never. I would never live here. It’s full of bad memories.
No, we’ll go to your home in Philadelphia or perhaps live in New York.
I want to leave this wilderness for a proper city, where we can go out in society and really enjoy life. ”
“All right. We can certainly do that. Should we sell this house?” Judith could clearly hear activity in the rooms beyond the office. She had to hold Bert’s attention. “I suppose with all the new people coming to the area it would be easy enough to find a buyer for this property.”
“It’s worth a small fortune,” Bert said, glancing back outside again.
Roman motioned Judith to back up toward the rear exit. She nodded and took a step. Roman did likewise. When Bert remained fixed on the view outside, Roman motioned her to leave.
Go, he mouthed.
She didn’t want to leave Roman there to be shot at but knew it was probably to his benefit if he didn’t have to worry about her. She took another step and then another. She had nearly reached the door to the billiards room when several men rushed into the office through the living room entry.
Roman grabbed her and pulled her out the door and past another group of officers who had been waiting. She heard Bert cry out, but there was no gunshot. She fell into Roman’s arms and couldn’t stop the tears that fell. The shock of it all was more than she could endure, and her knees buckled.
“I’ve got you,” Roman whispered against her ear. He carried her away into the private sitting room where the portrait of Caroline Ashton looked down upon them. Placing Judith on the sofa, he joined her there and pulled her against him.
Judith wept silently for several minutes. She couldn’t believe all that had happened. While he was annoying, never had Judith imagined Bert Black had gone mad. He seemed so reasonable prior to this. There was nothing that indicated to her that he’d lost his senses.
Roman handed her a handkerchief, and Judith straightened to wipe her eyes. She drew a deep breath and finally locked her gaze with his.
“I thought he would kill you,” Roman whispered.
“I thought he might kill you.” She reached up to touch his cheek.
“Did you have any idea of him having killed your grandfather?”
“No.” She dropped her hand and eased back against the sofa. Roman kept his arm securely around her. “I knew Grandfather was much weaker and presumed his heart had stopped on its own. I pray he didn’t know what happened. It’s just too terrible to consider.”
A uniformed officer stepped into the sitting room. “Mrs. Stanford?”
Judith looked up and nodded. “I am Mrs. Stanford.”
The officer came to where she sat. “And you are Dr. Turner?”
Roman stood and extended his hand. “I am.”
“I spoke with your aunt, Doctor. She told us what had happened, but I’m still going to need to take information down from both of you while it’s fresh in your minds.”
“Did you hear him admit to killing James Ashton?” Roman questioned.
“I did, along with several of my men.”
“He’s clearly lost all reason,” Judith said, looking up at them. She didn’t trust her strength and remained seated.
The officer nodded. “We’ve taken him into custody. My guess is that he’ll end up at the Hospital for the Insane in St. Peter.”
“Where is that?” Judith had never heard of the town, much less that there was an insane asylum available in Minnesota.
“It’s about seventy miles from here,” Roman offered. “The hospital there is fairly new. Just built in 1866. I serve on the board. In fact, when I first met you, I was in Philadelphia to visit area asylums.”
Judith knew that if Roman was involved, it would be a good place and not one of those horrible prisons that did little but torment those who were already lost in their madness.
“I suppose that is where he belongs.”
“It’s the best place for him, Judith. It’s on over two hundred acres with all sorts of things the patients might do to ease their long days, including tending sheep.” Roman looked back at the officer. “I’m glad you were able to take him without further danger. He fired his gun into the ceiling.”
“By accident,” Judith felt compelled to say. Little by little her strength was returning. They were safe now, and hopefully there would be no further trouble.
Just then Mary appeared with the tea cart. “I heard them say that they would need to question you. I thought tea or coffee might steady your nerves.”
“Coffee is exactly what I need.” Judith waited while Mary poured her a cup and added cream and sugar.
“Thank you.” Judith sampled the brew and nodded. It was perfect. She looked up with renewed confidence. “Now, what would you like to know, officer?”
Roman was relieved when the police finally left the Ashton mansion. He could tell that Judith was spent from the ordeal and suggested she take a lunch tray in her room and then a nap.
“I suppose a rest would be good since the afternoon has grown so warm.”