Chapter 22 #2
Even if he discovers the switch, he’ll never find it now. I must keep the aviary safe and close by. It won’t be easy to show Danielle anymore, but it will be worth it. She’ll have them soon enough, and forever.
Them she had written in that last sentence.
Not it. That had struck her as odd when Elsa had first read it.
Could it mean Birdie had cut out the pages and hidden them flat in many different places?
The collection wouldn’t be worth as much that way, but the individual pages would still be worth a small fortune.
And they could have been hidden almost anywhere.
Tucked into books in the library would have been a reasonable option, so long as they were books Linus didn’t actually read.
If he wasn’t interested in the subject matter, he certainly wouldn’t be looking for his medieval aviary inside any other books.
Pulse galloping, Elsa continued walking to the elevators. At least Luke and Tom had removed all those books, and they were safely at the Dupont & Son warehouse, well out of harm’s way when the mansion would come down tomorrow. That was a relief beyond words.
Inside the elevator, Elsa pushed the button for the lobby, then pulled out the card. She read it again and frowned. By the time the doors opened, she wasn’t so sure Birdie would have hidden the pages in the library books after all.
Her cane tapping across the marble, she circled the giant meteor in Memorial Hall and stepped out into the sunshine. With every step down the stairs, she went deeper into her thoughts, deeper into everything she’d learned about Birdie and what was important to her.
When she landed on the sidewalk, she stopped again, vaguely aware of pedestrians parting and streaming around her, of traffic honking and pumping fumes into the air. “Unless you pick up all the pieces of my broken heart.”
The pieces of Birdie’s broken heart were not in random books in the library.
They were still in the house. Those paintings of Sarah were the expressions of Birdie’s broken heart. The aviary pages were hidden behind the frames or mattes. It was the only answer that made sense.
And if Elsa didn’t get there tonight and deliver them to the Petrovics, they would all be destroyed tomorrow.
TARRYTOWN
Elsa had left the spare key for Mr. Spalding when she left Elmhurst last Friday morning.
But thanks to Crawford’s breaking and entering, she knew exactly where she could get in without it if Spalding had still bothered to lock the mansion.
She wished Ivy or Luke could be here with her, but both were occupied, and this wasn’t an errand that could wait.
She’d left a note for her roommate before catching the train to let her know she’d be back by nine o’clock.
All she had to do was test her theory, and if she was right, gather up the paintings of Sarah and transfer them to the Petrovics’ cottage.
If Tatiana wanted Elsa to bring the paintings to Manhattan for safekeeping, she was prepared to do that, too.
The cab rolled to a stop in the circle drive, right behind a white Rolls-Royce Phantom, splattered by the country road.
Elsa trapped a groan as Archer Hamlin got out of his auto, looking sharp in his grey suit and matching homburg.
She paid her driver and asked him to come back for her at eight o’clock.
That meant she had ninety minutes to do what she came here to do.
Archer wasn’t part of her plan. And judging by the glint in his eyes, he hadn’t factored her into his evening, either.
“I thought you were done here,” Archer said. “Still hunting? One last chance before it’s all torn down tomorrow?”
Elsa forced a smile, even as her palms began to sweat in their gloves. She tightened her grip on her cane. “I could ask you the same thing. My work here is done, yes. But I’m still allowed to visit the Petrovics.”
Jane appeared on the veranda wearing a flaming orange sheath with handkerchief hem, black gloves to her elbows, and black feathers clipped in her hair.
“Why, Elsa! Fancy meeting you here! If you had come twenty minutes ago you’d have seen Cousin Hugh.
He spent all day poking around the estate but is finally going back to Pennsylvania.
Wesley has dashed off to pick up some supplies for the party.
I didn’t know you’d be coming with Archer. ” She directed a pointed gaze at him.
“Oh! I came on my own. I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to intrude on your plans.
Don’t let me bother you, I’m only here for a short visit to the Petrovics, anyway.
” Elsa’s mind raced. If they saw her enter the house now, they’d want to know why.
Could she possibly bring the paintings of Sarah to the Petrovics without arousing suspicion?
Not a chance. They would wonder what the Petrovics would want with dozens of paintings of a baby who wasn’t related to them. They might not guess the aviary pages were hidden inside them at first, but they could figure it out. That wasn’t a risk Elsa wanted to take.
Could she sneak in after the party started?
“You might as well come to the party, too,” Jane crooned. “Only, there’s going to be lots of music and dancing, and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“Elsa doesn’t dance,” Archer said. “Believe me, I’ve tried.”
Ignoring him, Elsa asked, “Is Wesley providing the music?”
“Oh no. The piano was taken away three days ago, but all his friends are musicians, most of them with instruments that travel. We’re going to have a regular jazz band and plenty of gin to go with it. Father would hate it. He says jazz makes people disabled from the irregular rhythm.” She laughed.
“If we trash the place, no one will have to clean it up. It all gets torn down tomorrow.” Archer wiggled his eyebrows, clearly delighted at the lack of consequences for his upcoming actions.
“Gee, what fun.” Elsa’s sarcasm seemed lost on Archer and Jane.
But actually, this all could play to her advantage.
If the party was loud and the people were getting sozzled, it would be much easier for her to get in and out undetected.
Depending on how many people were coming, and how many rooms they’d spill into.
“Chick-a-dee-dee.”
Elsa turned toward the woods. That hadn’t sounded like a bird. It had sounded like Danielle. Signaling danger?
“I’ll leave you to it,” she said, and headed for the Petrovics’ cottage, where she planned to wait until the time was right.
“Not so fast, Els.” Archer closed the gap and cupped his hand around her upper arm.
“Before you go, I was hoping you could show me that secret room you told me about. The one used by the Underground Railroad? Jane here has no idea where that is, and it’ll be gone tomorrow. I’d love to see it. Please?”
The way he gripped her, she knew there was only one answer. “Of course.”
“You two have fun. I’ve got more to do before the guests arrive. Ta-ta, Elsa.” She blew her a kiss, spun on her T-strap heels, and slipped back inside.
Alone with Archer, Elsa led the way to the library, or rather, the gutted room that once held the library. With all the woodwork, fireplaces, furnishings, and even chandeliers gone, it felt more like a tomb. Evening light slanted through windows whose coverings had also been removed.
Elsa pushed on the door beside where the fireplace stood. It was so much easier to spot now, Archer really could have found it himself. “Here it is.” She stood in the doorway to the windowless room. “Not much to see if you don’t have a candle or kerosene lamp.”
“Fascinating.” Archer stepped closer and inadvertently kicked Elsa’s cane out of her hand. It clattered as it fell to the floor in the secret den. “So sorry.”
Elsa went to retrieve it, irritated that he hadn’t done so himself. As soon as she bent, he shoved her farther into the room, slammed the door shut, and locked it from the other side.
“Archer!” Elsa gasped. “What are you doing?”
“I said I was sorry.” His voice was muffled as it came through the door. “But honestly, Elsa, your timing is truly terrible. We need you to stay out of the way during the party.”
“I promise I will!”
“Yeah, that’s nice, but we need to make sure of it.”
“Why, what on earth kind of party are you having, anyway?”
“The regular kind. But before that? A search party of the entire grounds. Didn’t your grandmother ever tell you that many hands make light work?”
“Don’t you dare go near the Petrovics’ cottage,” Elsa shouted.
“You leave them alone, Archer, I mean it.” If they found the provenance document there, or if Hugh had already told them Tatiana had it, would anything stop them from tearing the cottage apart to find the aviary?
Danielle would not be able to cope with that.
She shouldn’t have to. Neither should Tatiana.
“We need you out of the way. It’s for your own good, doll.
Greed makes people grumpy and violent. If anyone thinks they’re on to something and you swoop in and take it for that gardener, you’re liable to get hurt.
Wouldn’t want your other leg to go gimpy, now, would we?
And it isn’t like we’ll let you rot in here. Someone will let you out later.”
“No, you let me out now,” Elsa insisted, but receding footsteps told her he was already walking away.
With no way to measure its passing, time had lost its meaning. All Elsa knew was that the search party must have ended because the jazz party had started about ten tunes ago, and still no one had come to let her out.
She had found the chair and dragged it close to the keyhole so she could sit while waiting.
Her voice hoarse from competing with trumpets and trombones, she pounded the end of her cane against the door.
She wasn’t afraid of the dark. But being alone, cast aside and forgotten .
. . well, she couldn’t think of much worse.
As a child, it had happened too many times not to leave a mark on her even as an adult.
She hadn’t been chosen for teams because she couldn’t help score points.
She hadn’t been chosen as a friend, either, usually.
She was different, when she longed more than anything to be the same, to fit the mold everyone else seemed to have been made from.
Different was not good enough. Different was wrong. And being wrong was shameful.
Elsewhere in the house, people her age were dancing the Charleston and King Tut Fox Trot. She could feel the music, hear their laughter, and smell their cigarette smoke. The house itself seemed to buzz with a frantic gaiety.
Elsa might as well have been miles away, here in this forgotten pocket of darkness.
Though she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face, she pulled off her glasses and cleaned them on a fold of her skirt, again and again.
But this was applesauce. It didn’t make her vision better or erase the terrible voices in her mind that told her to be better, do better, unless she wanted to be alone forever.
Elsa shook her head to dislodge those old feelings that threatened to twine around her. Shame was bondage, and right now, she needed to be free to think clearly. Grasping her cane, she felt in its grooves and curves the little birds Luke had carved to remind her she wasn’t alone.
He wasn’t here. But God was, or would be if she only asked. Lord, draw near, she prayed. Be with me now. Clear my mind, and steady my nerves. Please send someone to open this door.
She kept pounding her cane on the door to the library.
Had the taxi she’d requested to return for her already come and gone? Did anyone besides Archer know she was in here? She’d told Jane she was here to visit the Petrovics. Unless Archer told her otherwise, she’d have no reason to wonder where Elsa was.
Cool air touched her silk-stockinged ankles, a whisper from the gap under the door that led to the tunnel. Luke had made it all the way through and out the other side, but could she? Her lungs tightened just thinking about her last attempt.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The music faded or stopped, or Elsa simply began losing her senses. Archer still didn’t return, and neither did anyone else. For all Elsa knew, Archer could be passed out sozzled somewhere, or he could have forgotten her.
Well then. She was no longer a little girl playing hide-and-seek, waiting to be found by peers who couldn’t be bothered to look for her.
Elsa would find her own way out. Lord, be my light. Show me the path.