The Magnolia Palace

Chapter Twenty

1966

Miss Helen let out a soft cry. The sound evaporated like a mist into the upper reaches of the enamels room, where Veronica and Joshua stood on either side of her.

“The diamond is missing,” she said.

Joshua guided her over to one of the hard-backed chairs against the wall, where she sat with a thud and held out the cameo. “Here, you see, there is a secret catch. Inside was a diamond that was meant for my sister.”

“Wait a minute, are you talking about the Magnolia diamond?” asked Joshua.

“Yes.” Miss Helen stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, as her neck turned a splotchy red. “My father gave it to her when she was born; the dear man’s generosity knew no bounds. I placed Martha’s cameo, with the diamond inside it, in my father’s hand the day he died, knowing that he missed Martha most of all. But it was stolen soon after, taken right out of his coffin. And placed in here, apparently.”

Veronica stood dumbly by. She should hand the gem over right now, apologize profusely. But if she did that, they might call the police on her. Miss Helen would definitely call the police on her, with a last name like Weber—there was no question about that.

“It happened just before the viewing began.” Miss Helen pulled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “When my sister, Martha, died, it was a bitter relief to us all, to see her out of her pain. But can you imagine what that did to my father? To be one of the richest men in America but be of no use at all to your tiny girl? I thought it might bring him some peace, to leave Martha’s diamond with him.” Miss Helen’s face was red, her nose running. “But after it was stolen, we had no choice but to bury him without it. Very few people knew of the cameo or the diamond in the first place, or that I’d wanted to bury it with my father. Only Miss Lilly.”

“Miss Lilly?” asked Veronica.

“My private secretary.”

Joshua nodded. “The one who stole your boyfriend. I’m so sorry this has caused you distress.”

Miss Helen’s mood changed like quicksilver. “It certainly has, you both nosing about in my home, reminding me of the worst day of my life. How dare you?” she demanded.

Joshua would lose everything if Miss Helen reported what they’d done. He’d be fired, and never get into graduate school.

Veronica’s decision to take the diamond had been a terrible one, she realized now. The Frick family had gone through a torturous time, and taking the diamond to help solve her own domestic travails was not the right way to go about things. In spite of Miss Helen’s wealth, this jewel meant more to her than all of the paintings and sculptures put together, and Veronica had no right to it. None at all.

But how to make things right?

She nonchalantly slid it out from her pocket, hiding it in her closed fist. “Hold on a moment, let me take another look.”

Veronica walked over to the second secret compartment, blocking their view with her back, and made a show of running her hand around the bottom of it.

“Wait a minute.” Slowly, she pulled out the diamond, as if she’d only now come upon it. Her sleight of hand was clumsy, even to herself. “Look, is this it?”

Miss Helen gasped. “Did you find it?”

“It must’ve fallen out of the cameo at some point.” Veronica carefully placed the stone in Miss Helen’s palm. Joshua cast a strange look at Veronica. He knew it hadn’t been inside the secret compartment earlier. He had to know that she’d pretended to find it. She was ashamed of herself. There was no excuse, and she hated that she’d let him down.

Suddenly, the electricity burst on with a glaring efficiency. The blackout and the snowstorm were over.

Veronica glanced up at the blazing light bulbs in the brass chandelier, then over at Miss Helen. “So you think your secretary stole the cameo?” she asked, desperate to divert attention from herself.

“At the time. But now I don’t think she could’ve done it.”

“Why is that?”

“She didn’t know about this compartment. It’s not something that you can see from just looking around the room; you have to know that it’s there.”

“But it was part of the scavenger hunt,” said Joshua.

“Mr. Danforth never made it to his fob, and I wrote all of the clues myself, without Miss Lilly’s help. It was a very difficult time for my family, and when everything fell apart, Miss Lilly was accused of two crimes: stealing the cameo and also poisoning my father. It was believed that she added a sleeping draft to his water, which killed him. When questioned, she always denied it, swore she was innocent, and then escaped before the police arrived to take her away. And now we’ll never know the truth. My brother and his wife are gone; my father, my mother, all dead. No one is left except me.”

But that wasn’t necessarily the case. “What if we found this Miss Lilly?” said Veronica.

Miss Helen shook her head. “After all this time? Who knows where she is. Probably far from here. She did reach out to me once, when my mother died. Sent a condolence note, said that she had something important to tell me.”

So she hadn’t completely disappeared.

“What was her full name?” Veronica asked.

“Lilly. Lillian Carter. Or Angelica.” She practically spat out the last word.

“I’m sorry?” said Joshua, confused.

“She went by Angelica back when she was a model.”

“You mean the Angelica? The Gilded Age muse?”

“You’ve heard of her?” said Miss Helen, surprised.

“I have. Wait a minute—so your private secretary was Angelica, who was the model for the relief at the entrance?” said Joshua.

Veronica remembered him mentioning the model during her tour, saying that she’d disappeared. The model and the secretary were one and the same. It was comforting to hear that the woman hadn’t met with a tragic end, as Veronica had imagined.

“Believe me, I had no idea who she really was,” said Miss Helen.

“How did she become your private secretary?” Veronica asked.

“A mistake. I’m still not sure how that happened. But we were good together, for a while.” Miss Helen swayed a little, lost in some distant time.

“When she wrote to you, was there a return address on the envelope?” asked Veronica. “We could track her down, see if she’s still alive.” She was desperate to keep Miss Helen talking, not let Joshua ask any questions about her miraculous discovery of the diamond.

“Good Lord, how would I remember that? It was 1931. I tossed it in the trash, where it belonged.” But then she froze, as if trying to conjure up the memory. “Upstate somewhere.”

“Do you remember the postmark, anything like that?” asked Joshua.

Miss Helen paused. “It was a tree. Pine something.”

“Maybe we can figure it out, help you find her,” suggested Veronica.

“It’s a lost cause. Don’t know why you’d bother.” But Miss Helen didn’t wholeheartedly object, either.

“We need a map of the state,” Veronica said. “Do you have anything like that?”

“I run a library. Of course I do.”

Back in her office in the library building, Miss Helen rummaged through the drawers of a small desk that sat in the corner. “Had to fire my current secretary last week, as she didn’t understand my filing system, no matter how many times I explained it. Here.”

She pulled out a map of New York State and handed it to Veronica, who laid it out on the coffee table in front of the sofa. She ran her finger down the index of town names. “Pine Knolls. Could that be it?”

Miss Helen smiled, impressed with herself. “Yes, of course. Pine Knolls. I’ve always had a keen eye for detail and a good memory. That’s what my father always told me.”

The man had been gone for almost fifty years, yet Miss Helen mentioned him repeatedly, as if he were still busy collecting art in the mansion next door. Veronica remembered how proudly Miss Helen had announced that all of the fixtures and doorknobs in her office came straight from his bedroom. Mr. Henry Clay Frick had a powerful hold on his daughter.

“Do you mind if I use your phone?” Joshua asked. “If it’s working, I can call the operator for her information.”

Miss Helen nodded.

Joshua avoided Veronica’s eye as he walked to the desk. He had to be horrified at the fact that she’d had the diamond in her possession these past many hours. Hopefully he wasn’t calling the police, turning her in for her blatant deception. It struck Veronica that she was utterly alone here in America, with no one to come to her rescue, and in a rush of panic she wanted desperately to hear her mother’s voice. She’d promised to call her collect after the photo shoot, and Trish was probably worrying that she’d been swallowed up by the Big Apple by now. “I need to make a call as well, do you mind if I step out?”

Neither Joshua nor Miss Helen responded, so she ducked out and took the elevator down to the bank of telephone booths she’d spied earlier in the library’s lobby. Inside one, she waited for the operator to connect her.

“Veronica, how are you?” her mother said, the words tinny and hollow.

“I’m fine, Mum. Sorry I didn’t get back to you before. There was a snowstorm and everything shut down.”

“How unfortunate. Are you off to Newport today, then?”

All that—Barnaby, the photo shoot—seemed like a distant life. A less-than-desirable life. Even if on the off chance Sabrina asked her to continue, Veronica wouldn’t do it. She didn’t want to have to put up with inflated male egos and skinny mean girls. The past couple of days in the Frick house had opened her eyes to the possibilities. If Joshua could infiltrate the art scene, follow his passion, then she could, too. Not that she knew what exactly that passion was.

She swallowed hard, thinking of Polly. There was no easy answer.

“No, I won’t be going to Newport. In fact, I think I’ll be coming home soon. How’s Polly?”

“Oh, my dear.”

Veronica’s heart sank. “What’s wrong, what’s happened?”

“She’s refusing to eat. They’ve tried all her favorite foods, I even brought over a trifle, but she simply won’t do it.”

Poor Polly. She must be miserable to not eat even one bite of trifle. Who knew what was going on in that place? Tears pricked Veronica’s eyes. “She has to come home, Mum.”

“You know I can’t do that. The nursing staff says that it’s typical, that she just needs more time to settle in. She’ll be fine in no time.”

The cheery offhandedness in her mother’s delivery only increased Veronica’s anxiety. Her mum was desperate to believe what the staff said was true; she wanted so badly for both of her daughters to be happy.

“I’ll be on the next flight out.”

“Don’t rush anything. I’ll keep an eye on her, I promise.”

After Veronica hung up, she called the airline, but flights were backed up after the storm and she wasn’t able to get a seat until tomorrow afternoon. She switched her reservation and headed back to Miss Helen’s office. The past night felt like a dream, one that had dissipated in the morning light, and now the real world was pressing in on Veronica on all sides. For a brief moment, she considered collecting her suitcases and disappearing into the snow-covered city with her proverbial tail between her legs, but she couldn’t do that to Joshua. Not after the three days they’d spent together.

“I can’t remember his name for the life of me,” Miss Helen was saying to Joshua when Veronica returned. “How angry Papsie would be. He loved the man.”

“Who’s that?” Veronica asked.

“The organist who used to play for us at dinner.”

Joshua explained. “We can’t find a Lillian Carter in Pine Knolls, and Miss Helen said the family believed she ran off with the organist who used to play here.”

“He left our employ right as Miss Lilly went on the lam, and we always wondered if there was a link,” said Miss Helen. “But then the family started fighting amongst ourselves, over inheritances and the like, and it never came up again. But I simply can’t remember his name.”

The answer came to Veronica out of the blue. “Archer Graham,” she said. In her head, she could see it clearly on the page, written in fountain pen.

“What?” said Joshua.

“Archer Graham,” she repeated. “I’m pretty sure that’s who it was.”

“Brilliant!” Miss Helen snapped her fingers. “That’s it. You’re right.”

“How do you know that?” Joshua asked Veronica, dumbfounded.

“He wrote a letter to Mr. Frick, confirming that he’d be playing for him for another season. It was one of the documents downstairs.”

“Well done, girly,” said Miss Helen. “You remind me of Miss Lilly. The woman had an uncanny ability to remember details like that, to know exactly where items were that I’d lost. Too bad she was a brazen hussy of a woman.” She shook a bony finger at Joshua. “Yes, Archer Graham. That was it. Call again and ask for that name.”

Joshua dialed the operator. “I’m looking for a phone number and address for an Archer Graham in Pine Knolls, please.”

There was a pause. He scribbled wildly on a notepad, then hung up the phone. “We’ve found him.”

“So they did run off together,” said Miss Helen. “My hunch was right, yet again.”

“Do you want to call her?” Joshua turned the notepad so it was facing Miss Helen.

She shook her head. “No. That’s not the way to do it. I want to see that woman’s face when I question her. How far away is Pine Knolls?”

Joshua studied the map. “About two hours.”

“My car is outside,” said Miss Helen. “The roads are probably being cleared by now.” She looked at each of them, her usual glare of disdain replaced by a waggish gleam. “Do you want to join me? It’s always nice to have company on a jaunt into the countryside.”

“I’m guessing my classes are canceled today,” said Joshua. “I’d love to. Veronica, are you in?”

The question wasn’t delivered warmly.

The alternative to joining them was to spend the time waiting in what was probably an already-crowded airport. This would keep Veronica’s mind off of Polly’s plight, and give her the chance to apologize to Joshua for her selfish decision to steal the diamond. Also, she had to admit, she found herself eager to find out more, to meet the supermodel of the 1910s.

“Yes. I’m in.”

Veronica sat in the back of Miss Helen’s Lincoln Continental trying to focus on the horizon, which her father had always said helped prevent motion sickness. Maybe on the open seas, but it sure didn’t work on the winding roads north of the city. First of all, there was no horizon, only tree after tree whizzing by the window at a dizzying rate. Secondly, Miss Helen didn’t bother to obey the speed limit or proper driving etiquette. She tended to come up fast behind some unsuspecting driver, then stamp the brake repeatedly, coming perilously close to the back bumper of the car ahead of them. Joshua reached for the dashboard a few of times to brace himself, but after the fourth time, Miss Helen gave him a dirty look and uttered something under her breath about “lily-livers” and he’d been sitting on his hands ever since.

The temperature had risen above freezing, turning last night’s snow piles shiny and wet. Water sluiced from underneath the drifts that lined either side of the roads, and Veronica thanked her stars it wasn’t icy. Otherwise they’d certainly end up in a ditch before making it to Pine Knolls. The only thing that kept Veronica’s heart rate from skyrocketing was the fact that she was utterly exhausted. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the past two nights, as the rattling of the windows had kept her from sleeping soundly. A foggy fatigue weighed down her every thought.

Other than seeing Polly, she didn’t have much of a reason to return home, and the thought of what was ahead depressed her terribly. Explaining to her mother that she was all washed up. Dealing with Sabrina’s wrath and disappointment at her misbehavior. Going back to work for Uncle Donny.

A couple of hours later, they reached the main street of Pine Knolls, where the storefronts looked tired and shabby against the white gleam of new snow. They crossed over a set of railroad tracks and, with Joshua’s assistance on the map—Veronica didn’t envy him that task one bit; at one point he’d turned quite green—they eventually pulled up to a small farmhouse with gray shutters, set off from the road by a rock wall. An enormous oak soared over the front yard, the branches like splayed fingers.

Miss Helen pulled into the driveway and jammed the gear into park. For the drive, she’d put on a ridiculous hat with a wide brim and a ribbon, as well as leather driving gloves, as if she were handling a horse-drawn carriage, not a modern car. The woman was not of this time.

“Shall we go in?” asked Joshua.

“Maybe it’s not the right house.” Miss Helen had only peeled off one glove, like she was having second thoughts at the entire venture.

“I’m pretty sure it is,” answered Joshua.

Veronica tried to allay her fears, lower her expectations. “She may no longer live here, or might have passed away,” she offered.

“Dead? No. That woman had nerves of steel. She’ll definitely outlive me.” The second glove came off with a flourish. “Time to give her a piece of my mind. How dare she run away like she did!”

A narrow path to the front door had been cleared, and Joshua let Miss Helen go first. Veronica moved to follow, but Joshua did so at the same time, and they bumped into each other.

“Sorry,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“No. You go.”

Miss Helen by now had reached the porch. “Come on, you two.”

Veronica touched the arm of his coat and spoke softly. “I’m sorry, Joshua, about the diamond.”

“So you did take it,” he whispered.

“I did, and I’m sorry about that. I’d like to explain.”

But she didn’t get the chance. “Come on, I don’t have all day!” yelled Miss Helen.

They gathered at the front door, where a cornflower blue bench sat between two porch lamps. Miss Helen gave a firm knock.

An older man with a thick head of silver hair and round spectacles answered the door. He surveyed them with a baffled look on his face. “Can I help you?”

Miss Helen swallowed before answering, the only sign of nerves that Veronica could see. Her face remained a cold mask. “Archer. What on earth are you doing in this godawful town? I’m guessing you’re playing every Sunday in some two-bit church, teaching a choir of tone-deaf vagrants. My father would be very upset that you threw away your talent. What a waste.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Miss Helen?”

“That is correct. Let us in.”

He did, stepping back into a small foyer as Miss Helen waltzed through the doorway. Joshua motioned for Veronica to enter next, then hesitated a split second, waiting until the owner of the house had specifically beckoned him inside as well. It occurred to Veronica how blithely she walked through the world, as she and Miss Helen didn’t think twice about the invitation, while Joshua could never assume he was welcome.

“What are you doing here, Miss Helen?” asked Archer Graham. From another room came the sound of someone washing dishes.

“I’m seeking answers. Where’s Miss Lilly? I’m fairly certain she’s on the premises.”

“Lillian!” the man called out.

They’d found her.

The running water stopped. “Yes, darling?”

The trio followed him into the kitchen, where a woman in her late sixties stood at the sink, drying a glass. She saw Miss Helen and froze for a second, before carefully placing the glass on the counter.

Joshua had said the woman had been the top model of her time, and Veronica could see why. She had perfectly classical features, including a regal nose and dewy brown eyes. While her skin was delicately wrinkled, the bone structure underneath was undeniably handsome, with a strong chin and high cheekbones. Veronica, fifty years younger, felt like a wallflower in comparison, with her mop of hair and gangly limbs. Fashions and styles had changed, but Miss Lilly, as Miss Helen called her, would always be a beauty.

“Would you like some coffee or tea?” asked Miss Lilly, as if they were neighbors who’d popped in to say hello.

“Tea for all of us,” demanded Miss Helen, equally determined to remain unflappable.

They all accepted Mr. Graham’s invitation to take a seat at the kitchen table. The dark wood was etched with scratches like ancient hieroglyphics, mottled with water stains, a far cry from the glossy mahogany tables at the Frick. Veronica had noticed a mantel full of photos as they’d passed through the living room, of the older couple with a young woman who held a baby in her arms. This was a table where children and grandchildren sat and made a mess and it didn’t matter.

“I am here with my colleagues,” announced Miss Helen. She waved in Joshua and Veronica’s general direction. “Go on, introduce yourselves.”

Joshua gave a slight wave. “Joshua Lawrence, I work part-time at the Frick.”

“Nice to meet you, Joshua,” answered Miss Lilly. “I’m Lillian, and this is my husband, Archer.”

Veronica’s turn, but she wasn’t sure how she fit in to the puzzle. “Veronica Weber. I’m rather new on the scene.”

Miss Helen cringed briefly at the sound of her last name, but then nodded her approval, as if they were children who’d finally behaved properly.

“I received your note, Miss Lilly, after Mother’s death,” Miss Helen said.

Lillian poured hot water into a teapot and placed it on the table, where Archer had laid out cups and saucers, a small pitcher of milk, and a sugar bowl. “Your mother was a kind person, in her own way. I was sorry to hear of her passing.”

“Well, that was long ago. I won’t waste time. I’m here because of that letter. You implied that you had something to tell me, about the circumstances of November 1919.”

“It’s 1966, Helen. What took you so long?”

Miss Helen gulped at the insouciance. Clearly, she’d never been called “Helen” by a servant, current or former. “Well, as you know, Miss Lilly, I had a library to run, as well as having to deal with the transformation of the mansion into the Frick Collection. It was a busy time.”

“Of course.”

“Go ahead, then. You may apologize.”

Lillian cocked her head, her eyes flinty and sharp. “For what?”

“For the trauma you put my family through. I assume that’s why you wrote to me.”

“Well, you’d be wrong. I should think you ought to apologize to me, after what you put me through.”

Miss Helen leaned forward in her chair, itching for a fight. “Two words, dear girl: Richard Danforth.”

At that, Lillian deflated slightly. “That’s true. I am sorry about that. I was young.”

“I thought we were friends. Friends wouldn’t do such a thing to each other.”

“Friends? I worked for you. You were my employer.”

“Fine, I won’t quibble with you. I’m here now because I found something. This.”

She took the cameo out of her purse and placed it on the table.

Lillian let out a small breath. “The cameo.” She reached out and gingerly touched it, but didn’t pick it up. “Where was it?”

“In the enamels room, in a secret compartment in the wall.”

“Of all places? How did you find it?”

Miss Helen waved her hand. “These two came upon it while they were sneaking around the mansion after hours.”

“And the Magnolia diamond?”

“We found that as well.” She opened the cameo to reveal the diamond, which seemed even bigger and more translucent in the bright light of day, before snapping it back shut.

Veronica felt Joshua’s eyes rest on her for a split second before he turned away.

“Who would put the cameo in the enamels room?” asked Lillian.

“I don’t know. I’m assuming you didn’t?”

“Of course I didn’t. I didn’t even know about any hidden spot in the enamels room. You know that.”

“I do,” admitted Miss Helen.

“So someone took it and tucked it away,” said Lillian. “But didn’t steal it.”

“Which is odd.”

“They wanted to punish you, maybe?”

“That could have been one of many people, as I’ve never been well-liked,” said Miss Helen. “Something I’m rather proud of.”

Lillian and Archer exchanged a long look. Veronica couldn’t tell what they were signaling to each other, but after they broke it off, Lillian seemed to brace herself before speaking. “What about your mother’s private secretary?”

“Miss Winnie? No. There’s no reason she’d ever go in there, even when it was Father’s study.”

“Really? Never?”

“Well, I don’t remember. Perhaps once or twice. But she was devoted to the family and would have no reason to betray me in that way. Nor Martha, whom she loved dearly.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Is this what you wanted to tell me in your note? That you thought Miss Winnie was some kind of sick criminal? She never abandoned us, even when things were terrible. When Martha was ill, she was by her side day in and day out. Mother said they’d never had a better nursemaid, and that if only they’d taken her with them on that awful European trip, Martha would never have been allowed to swallow the pin in the first place.”

“Hold on,” said Lillian. “Nursemaid? She was your mother’s secretary.”

“She was originally hired as Martha’s nursemaid. Only after Martha’s death did my mother bring her on as her secretary. She couldn’t bear to lose her, after what they’d gone through together.” She paused. “Not that she was much help. The woman became deaf as a doornail. But my mother needed a companion in her grief, and even more so later, as her depression took hold. Miss Winnie is a saint.” She looked over at Joshua. “Well, that was a waste of a trip.”

The story was getting more and more interesting, in Veronica’s opinion. “Is a saint?” she repeated. “Miss Winnie is alive?”

“She is. I visit her every couple of weeks. They take good care of her there, although I still have to remind the staff to look at her while they’re speaking.”

“I don’t think so,” Lillian countered.

“What do you mean?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you when I wrote the letter. That Miss Winnie can hear better than she lets on. At least she could back then. She wasn’t partially deaf at all.”

“Of course she was. Why would you say such a thing?”

Lillian took one more look at her husband, who nodded. Whatever she was about to divulge had already been discussed at length between them. “One day, near the end, when things were in an uproar, Miss Winnie came to me with reassurance that all would be all right. She said that the accusations were baseless, and that I wasn’t a scoundrel, no matter what Mr. Childs said. I appreciated her thoughtfulness, of course, but only later I realized she was repeating what had been discussed in the library in front of the private detective, with the doors closed. A room where she wasn’t present.”

“What if someone had mentioned to her what was said?”

“I wondered about that as well. So I did a test. I growled.”

“You did what?”

“When your mother and Miss Winnie weren’t looking at me. I made a strange noise.”

“And I’m sure they thought you insane.”

“They both turned around.”

Miss Helen touched her own throat with a trembling hand. “Both?”

“Both.”

She looked down at the cameo, as if seeing it for the first time. “Well then. Off we go.”

“Where to, Miss Helen?” asked Joshua.

“To speak with Miss Winnie. To find out the truth, for once and for all.”