Derrick cleared his throat. “So what’s your story, Stanford?”
“I don’t see why I have to tell you anything.”
I raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Because if you don’t, I’ll go to your wife with what I know. Your temperance-leader wife.”
“See here, Hope has her diversions and I have mine. If you would refrain from sticking your nose in other people’s business, you won’t need to worry about men trying to kill you. Which I had nothing to do with, I might add.” He mirrored my own yes-I’ve-got-you-trumped smile. “How did they try to do you in, if I might ask?”
“They rammed their steamer into our rowboat.” The memory sent a shudder through me. “We jumped overboard at the last minute.”
The man had the audacity to laugh—to wrap both arms around his stomach, lean over, and let go a belly laugh that resounded against the houses and made the rest of us cringe. “My dear Miss Cross, that was nothing more than a warning. If those vagabonds had wanted you dead, you’d not now be standing here speaking to me.”
Derrick shot by me in a blur of overcoat and outstretched arms. Before anyone could react, his hands wrapped around Stanford’s throat, and with the force of his stride he slammed the man up against the side of an arch and pinned him in place.
“No more games, Stanford. Did you or did you not give the order to have witnesses murdered?”
Winty let out a whimper.
His hands coming up to grip Derrick’s wrists, Stanford rasped and sputtered. Derrick loosened his hold a fraction. The older man worked his head from side to side and dragged in a breath before speaking. “Of course . . . I didn’t . . . you madman. I’m out to make money, and the quickest way to attract the police is to leave a trail of bodies in one’s wake.”
“He does have a point,” I said. But then I strode to them and set my hands on my hips. “What about three days ago? Where were you the afternoon Madame Devereaux died?”
When Stanford didn’t answer immediately, Derrick gave him a shove, his fists still knotted around the man’s coat collar. “Answer the lady.”
“I was at the Newport Casino . . . with several of your town councilmen.” Stanford’s thick lips pulled back in a self-satisfied sneer. “I’d be happy to give you their names if you require proof.”
“I might at that, Mr. Stanford,” I said.
Slowly Derrick’s grip slackened and his hands fell to his sides. “I believe you. I’m not sure why, but I do.” He stepped away from Stanford, his lips in a shrewd slant. “It occurs to me that if your wife gets her way, you’ll make your money—plenty of it.”
Stanford brushed at his lapels and smirked.
During the exchange Winty had stood as stiff as a pillar. Now his body sagged as he visibly relaxed. “Miss Cross, what were you doing on Rose Island?”
I shot a look at Stanford, then pulled Winty outside the tower. “Looking for Consuelo,” I whispered once we’d moved several yards away. “When I saw you drop the marker into the water that afternoon, I thought perhaps it might have something to do with her. That maybe you were marking a rendezvous point to take her out of Newport.”
“I told you I hadn’t seen her. That still holds true.”
“Yes, but it occurred to me you might be lying. You were behaving strangely the morning I came to see you.” I flicked a glance at Stanford through the archway. “Now I know why. He was somewhere in your house, wasn’t he?”
“Upstairs. And no, it would not have been a good idea for you to see him, not that it matters now.” Winty frowned. “Do you mean to say you still haven’t found Miss Vanderbilt?”
“No, I haven’t. But I’ve got Detective Whyte involved in the search now.” I briefly touched the back of Winty’s hand. “We’ll find her soon, I’m sure of it.”
“Damn that mother of hers. . . .”
“Now, Mr. Rutherfurd—”
“No!” His eyes sparked fire, and his vehemence sent me back a step. I’d never seen him so impassioned. “If anything has happened . . . or happens . . . to Consuelo, it’ll be Alva’s fault. I wasn’t good enough for her . . . Consuelo herself was never good enough for her. She drove her daughter away as surely as if she’d pushed her out the door.”
I couldn’t argue with him, but neither did I agree. I didn’t feel it would be prudent to discuss family matters with him any more than I already had. That being the case, we had little more to say to each other.
We walked back into the tower. It seemed everything that could be said had been, and the four of us engaged in a kind of glaring standoff for several long moments.