Secrets of Sloane House(97)

Then the most curious expression fell over Mr. Sloane’s features. “How did this happen, Reid?” he asked quietly.

Reid wasn’t sure if the man expected an answer or not. But he felt foolish not answering him. “I don’t know, sir. Perhaps one thing leads to another?”

“But how did this happen to my family?” He shook his head. “Douglass was always so willful. Impetuous. But I never imagined he was preying on innocent women. But my wife? I fear she must have gone mad.”

Still looking weary, he sat down next to Mrs. Sloane.

She raised her chin. “What should we tell them?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“To whom are you referring?”

“The police, of course. We must have a story to tell them about what happened to that maid.” She paused and looked curiously at Rosalind before sitting up a bit straighter. “Would it help if we said she was a thief? I’m sure they would believe that.”

Behind him, Reid heard Rosalind cry out, and his mother comforting her.

Everything inside of him ached to yell at the woman, to shake her by the shoulders. To do everything in his power to convince her that no longer could the Sloanes simply hide behind a name. But he held his silence, hoping, praying that Mr. Sloane, at least, understood that the time to worry about appearances was long gone.

“We are going to tell them the truth,” Mr. Sloane said finally. “That is all that can be said. That is all that can be done.”

Veronica gasped. “But, Father, they could put Mother in jail.”

Douglass laughed low. “They could do worse than that, Veronica. And most likely they will.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” their father said.

Fear and panic had mottled Veronica’s face. Reid feared she was about to slip into a rage, but then the door opened. “The police have arrived, sir,” Hodgeson announced. Just as if he was announcing a visit from Mayor Carter Harrison himself.

Two policemen walked through the door, one in street clothes, the other in a blue uniform. “Hello, sir. My name is Detective Lt. Sean Ryan. This here is Officer Carter.”

Mr. Sloane nodded. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

The detective eyed all of them in the room with a sharp eye. “We heard there was an emergency here? What seems to be the problem?”

The other policeman looked a little dumbstruck by the grandeur of his surroundings.

With a weary hand, Mr. Sloane gestured to two empty chairs. “Detective Ryan, Officer Carter, you two might as well take a seat.” He gestured to Rosalind and to Reid’s mother, to Veronica and to Reid. “You all had better take a seat as well. I have a feeling this is going to take awhile.”

When Officer Carter pulled out a pencil and pad of paper and Detective Ryan leaned forward, Clayton Sloane began.

Beside them, the overflowing tea service lay gleaming on the sideboard, stacks of Haviland china beside it. All of it unnoticed or ignored.





CHAPTER 35

The police had questioned all of them. Then, once they were clear about the severity of the situation, more officers were called upon to take statements.

Only after Rosalind had given her statement to both the officer and a detective dressed in a brown tweed suit was she allowed to leave Sloane House. However, she’d been given a stern warning not to leave Chicago anytime soon.

At least three hours after they had arrived, the three of them left. Reid walked in between Rosalind and his mother, offering an arm to each.

Rosalind accepted his help, though she felt conspicuous walking by his side.

For once, not even his mother could think of anything to say. Each of them seemed lost in their thoughts as they slowly walked the five blocks back to the Armstrong residence.

Just as they arrived, Mr. Watterson greeted them at the door with an anguished expression.

“It’s Mr. Armstrong, ma’am,” he said to Reid’s mother, apology in his tone. “I’m afraid he’s taken a turn for the worse.”

Rosalind watched Mrs. Sloan’s eyes widen with a strike of pure shock, then she slowly composed herself. “How bad is he?”

“We’ve sent for the doctor.”

Reid turned to her. “Rosalind, I am sorry to leave you—”

“Please. Go.” She waved her hands and put on a brave smile. Seconds later, both Reid and his mother were up the stairs and out of sight.

She sighed. Could this day be any worse?

“Are you all right, miss?” Erin, the maid who had been attending her, asked.

Rosalind shook her head. She didn’t really know Erin. She didn’t know any of the servants here at the Armstrong house. But they knew the truth about her, that she’d been dismissed from the Sloane mansion and was only living here out of the Armstrongs’ charity.