Chapter 9 #2
Phillip took every back alley he could until he was one street over from Minehew’s Barn, where the occasional dance or auction was held. He was taking no chances that he might be followed, as he had no idea what Timothy had been dealing with other than trying to find Nora Button.
Phillip was shocked that the old shed behind the barn was still standing and continued walking past it.
Old Mr. Minehew had dumped all the junk and tools in that shed that he didn’t use but couldn’t part with.
Phillip was surprised that no one had torn it down since the old man had died.
But it was still standing and looked to be in about the same condition it had been when he and Timothy hid out there from Timothy’s mother and Uncle Patrick, looking at drawings of naked women Phillip had found in Patrick’s room, plotting their next mischief, or sometimes just hiding from whatever life’s troubles were in front of them.
He waited behind the big oak tree at the end of the street for thirty minutes to make sure he was alone.
He went back down the alley until he came to the walkway at the back of the Minehew property and veered toward the barn.
He pulled a loose stone from the foundation and found the key to the shed, just as Minehew had left it years ago.
He put the stone back and turned to the shed, not convinced a rusty key would open the door, but it did, the metal grinding against the lock.
He pulled open the door and thought about his twelve-year-old self.
Their castle was a filthy wooden structure with barely room to turn around for all the tools and pieces of wood and metal propped against the wall. But Phillip knew where to look.
By the time he’d moved every old tool and plank of warped wood, he was filthy and brushing cobwebs from his sleeves and hair.
But he could finally see the corner he was looking for and knelt to pull up the board from the floor.
At first, he didn’t see anything, even after lighting a match, which was a foolish thing to do, he thought to himself, as the place could go up in flames if kerosene had been dumped in it.
He wasn’t keen on sticking his hand between the joists, especially after hearing the rustle of a mouse or a rat, but he reached in anyway and found nothing at first until he reached back toward himself in the open space.
Phillip pulled a canvas bag, wrapped tight with a leather strap, out from between the boards.
He wanted nothing more than to settle back against the wall near a window and read the notes, but he forced himself to put the floor piece back, restack the broken hoe and bits of metal, and dust the floor with his hand until his boot prints were gone.
He tucked the bag in the back of his pants under his jacket, closed and locked the door, and returned the key to its hidey-hole.
He took a roundabout route home and was sent directly to the bathing room off the kitchen by Eliza.
After reading each page of the small notebook, Phillip realized he must find out what certain abbreviations stood for, which meant Timothy’s “fiancée” was going to have to visit him again.
He made a list of words and sets of letters and took the trolley to Virginia’s new house.
He was going to rap at the servants’ entrance but knew he would only make her angry if he didn’t visit via the front door. He lifted the knocker and waited.
“Good evening, Mr. Brown. Won’t you come in? I’ll see if Miss Wiest is receiving visitors,” the young man said.
“Oliver, right?”
“Yes, sir. That’s correct.”
“Did I hear the door, Oliver?” Virginia said, her face breaking into a smile when she saw him, the one he loved so very much. “It’s Mr. Brown. He’s almost always hungry, Mr. Oliver. Can you have a tray brought to the parlor?”
“Yes, miss. Right away.”
The chatter between Virginia and her employee played like a faraway piano, as he could do nothing but stare at her. Her face was lit in a smile, her eyes soft and dreamlike. My God, he thought, I’m in love with her. The forever kind of love that makes a man senseless.
His trance was broken when she slipped her hand around his arm. “Won’t you come sit down?”
“Yes, surely,” he stammered.
She stopped and looked up at him with a grin. “Well, it was the second time I’d asked.”
He whispered near her ear. “I couldn’t take my eyes or my mind off of the picture you made.”
Virginia blushed and tugged him toward the open door ahead. “I look a little neater than the last time you saw me.”
“You were adorable.”
“Hardly.”
She seated herself at the end of the sofa, and Phillip sat down right beside her. She glanced up at him, blushing again.
“I admit I thanked the dear Lord several times that day that I did not do that sort of work regularly. I was exhausted by the time I got home and into a bath, but it was also very fulfilling. I liked seeing Miriam and your uncle watching their new home come together. They seem very happy.”
“They are. Sarah and I always thought they just liked . . . well, the occasional cuddle,” he said and felt his own cheeks heating. “I shouldn’t have said that in front of you.”
“Nonsense. I’m aware of, let’s say, different relationships, but they seem devoted to each other, even when they were arguing about how much painting he had to do,” she said. “I’ve been thinking about a wedding gift for them, but I don’t want to insult them.”
“What were you thinking of?”
“I thought I might have the painters and the wallpaperers who just did this house do the same for theirs. What do you think?”
“I think if Uncle Patrick could get out of painting all those rooms, he’d be thrilled. And Miriam would be too overwhelmed to say anything, and I think she’d enjoy bragging to her friends about their new house. I think it’s a grand idea.”
“Excellent,” she said as the door opened and Mr. Oliver brought a tray piled with small sandwiches and cookies. “Thank you, Mr. Oliver. We’ll be fine now. The coffee is still hot and there are liquors here if Mr. Brown prefers.”
Oliver nodded and closed the door. Phillip turned to her. “I’ve a favor to ask you,” he said.
“Of course. What is it?”
“I’ll need you to visit Timothy again, soon too, as he has a hearing coming up and I’d like to solve this before he gets that far.”
“That’s fine. I can go tomorrow. What do you need to know?”
Phillip pulled the notebook from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. “He was working a case off the books, and these are his notes. But he uses abbreviations and maybe some code. I need to know what it all means.”
“Should I take it with me?”
“I don’t think so. I’d worry that someone there would try and take it from you. I have a feeling there are some officers who’d rather see Timothy go down for this.”
She stared at him. “Because they don’t like him?”
“Maybe.” He glanced at her. “Or maybe they’re getting paid off by someone to let Timothy take the fall.”
“Oh dear. How dreadful!”
“Yes, it is. But it’s a reality. Most officers are honest, but there’s always a few, I’ve found, who aren’t opposed to a little extra coin.”
“Are they not paid well?”
Phillip shook his head. “No. Not at all, especially considering how dangerous it can be. Once a man is promoted to Timothy’s level, the pay isn’t so bad, but the regular officers are not paid much.”
“That’s not right,” she said and stared at the notebook in her hands. “But I will do my best to remember everything I need to ask him.”
“Let’s take a look at what is written together. I have a list of the abbreviations. I think we can narrow our questions to three, which will make it easier for you to remember.”
The two of them read the first few pages together as best they could. Virginia looked up at him, worried, he could tell.
“It sounds like someone has been sold to a brothel owner or a slaver. How horrible! How old is this person Timothy is talking about?”
“I think ‘Close 1’ refers to Josephine Button. I think her sister Nora Button is ‘Close 2.’ And the youngest girl, Fanny, is ‘Close 3.’ She’s seven. She is likely staying at St. Vincent’s Catholic Church where the priest, Father Tom, has her hidden.”
“Dear Lord. And Timothy thinks this Nora was taken by someone and that was why Josephine, her sister, was murdered and put in bed beside him. It eliminated both people trying to retrieve that child.”
He nodded. “That’s exactly what I think. I think Timothy also had some ideas about who was behind all this, but I have no idea who based on his notes. He’ll have to tell you. Can you find out from him?”
“Tomorrow. I’ll go tomorrow in the morning as soon as Cook has made me several dozen apple turnovers for the officers.”
“Turnovers?” Phillip said and took a bite of his third sandwich.
She smiled. “Yes. Turnovers. Some men turn up sweet on a full stomach.”