Rory stopped on the last step, mildly surprised to see Bill Duffy. She had no idea what could have brought the reporter down to her warehouse. Much as she liked the fellow, she approached warily.
Angelo sprang guiltily back to work at the sight of her. Duffy grinned and doffed his derby. Rory studied the man, detecting something different about him today. The shine of his blue frock coat proclaimed it as brand new, and he had stuck a carnation in his lapel. Always jaunty, he seemed particularly smug and well pleased with himself.
"Good afternoon, Miss Kavanaugh," he said. "I couldn't resist coming by for a peek at the infamous balloon factory. Anything interesting going on this afternoon? You all seem to be getting ready for something. Another flight perhaps?” His fingers twitched, and Rory knew he would be reaching for his notebook in another moment.
"Nothing newsworthy," she said quickly to forestall him. "It's only that due to some setbacks, I am obliged to vacate the warehouse."
"Say, that's too bad. And Morrison can't help you? Lordy, the fellow's richer than .J. P. Morgan."
"No, er- Mr. Morrison is not very sympathetic to my business interests."
"Well, you can smooth all that out after you are married. And speaking of weddings, I don't suppose you would let me cover yours as an exclusive?"
"You have been misled. There's not going to be any wedding."
"Oh?" Duffy rocked back on his heels. "Had a spat, did you?" he asked sympathetically.
The sigh that escaped her said everything.
"Don't worry. He'll be back. I've never been bitten by the love bug myself, but I've seen it happen to plenty of other fellows. And believe me, Morrison has a bad case of it."
He coaxed a smile from her, but she really didn't want to discuss it any further. She tried to excuse herself on the grounds that she had work to do.
She hoped Duffy would take the hint and leave, but the man seemed incapable of being discouraged by anything less subtle than a club over the head. And Rory didn't have the energy for that.
She allowed him to trail after her as she returned to her office.
"Your marriage to Morrison would've made a good story. But I've been doing all right for myself in any case. In fact I just got a big raise in salary."
"Congratulations," Rory said. "And how is your investigation into the Addison affair going?"
"That's what I'm talking about. Haven't you been reading my stories?" He looked almost insulted when she shook her head. "Well, it's just the biggest scandal since the days of Boss Tweed. I found out that Decker had a partner in his nefarious schemes. A woman, a real high-stepper. And you'd never believe who!"
"I haven't a clue," she said wearily.
Duffy seemed disappointed when she wouldn't even hazard a guess. "It happens to be none other than that blue-blooded pillar of society, the Ice Goddess herself. Cynthia Van Hallsburg."
Rory's head came up sharply at that, her eyes widening in astonishment. Duffy smirked, looking pleased to have provoked a reaction at last.
"Yessiree. And there's more. It looks as though Decker was shot by someone. Not that I think a lady like Mrs. Van H. could be capable of going that far."
"I think she could," Rory murmured, unable to repress a tiny shiver.
She didn't know why she found Duffy's news so unsettling, but she did. Mrs. Van Hallsburg meant nothing to her, and yet something about the woman had always disturbed Rory, from the time the woman had once figured in her dream, taking the place of the banshee.
"Do you think Zeke knows all this?" she asked Duffy anxiously.
"Morrison?" Duffy appeared surprised by the question. He shrugged. "If he reads the right newspaper, he does."
"Maybe he ought to be warned.”
“Warned? About what? So Mrs. Van H. dirtied her hands investing in brothels and gaming dens. That hardly makes her dangerous. And even if she was," Duffy puffed out his chest, "she'd be more likely to come after yours truly."
Rory didn't agree, but she sought in vain for the words to explain her fear. Duffy was a hardheaded reporter who dealt in facts. How did one begin to explain to him such intangible things as dreams, instincts and premonitions, without sounding a fool?
"I would just feel better," she said, "if you would go to Zeke and make sure he knows, or at least see if the police have taken Mrs. Van Hallsburg into custody."
"Well, sure, if you want me to." He pulled out his pocket watch and snapped open the case. "But I'm not certain at this hour of day where to find him or Mrs. Van Hallsburg."
"Say, Rory." Angelo's piping voice startled them both. "She's downstairs." He had poked his head in the office door in time to hear Duffy's last remark.
"What?" Rory gasped, hoping she must have misunderstood the boy.
"That lady you were talking about, Mrs. Van Whats-her¬name." Angelo jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "She's waiting below, wanting to see you, Rory."
Rory paled as she exchanged a glance with Duffy.
"She sent up her card." Angelo gave her a crisp white rectangle of vellum now smudged by his fingerprints, yet not enough to obscure the elegant, arrogant scrawl. The faintest odor of perfume drifted from it, and Rory's hand trembled as though she had just been handed some witch's charm.
Duffy let out a long, low whistle. "Well, speak of the devil. What an opportunity. Show her upstairs, kid."
Before Rory could intervene, Duffy had dispatched Angelo on the errand.
"Duffy, I don't want to see her,” Rory said. She was too ashamed to admit she had an almost supernatural dread of the woman. "I can't imagine why she would come here. Shouldn't we send for the police?"
"And miss the chance for the biggest interview of my career? Look, I know she won't even let me get near her, but you could help me, Miss Kavanaugh. Maybe just ask her a few questions."
"Like what? Have you been to tea with the Astors lately, Mrs. Van Hallsburg? Oh and by the way, did you kill Charles Decker?"
"You'll have to be a little more subtle than that. But I better get out of here. If she sees me, she'll turn and stalk right out again." Duffy snatched up his derby, pausing long enough to give Rory's shoulder a pat. "Good luck."
"Duffy!" she protested. But the door was already closing behind him. "Damn you, Duffy!"
The man had just set her up for a chat with a suspected murderess, then had the temerity to wish her luck. Rory had to fight an urge to bolt out the office door. When the knock finally came, she nearly started out of her skin. Struggling to be calm, she ranged herself behind her desk as though that meager barrier could afford her some protection.
"Come in," she said, fortifying herself. The door inched open and a shadow fell across the room, a shadow that seemed to be all rustling silk and regal posture.
Mrs. Van Hallsburg stepped over the threshold clad in a dove-colored walking suit trimmed with black braid, her white-gold hair swept up beneath an English felt hat adorned with a jet pin and tiny feathers. She looked so composed, so sophisticated, so very much the socialite, that Rory felt a little foolish. Her fears and suspicions seemed absurd until she looked into the woman's eyes. Hard, compassionless and colder than the winds of winter.
A contemptuous smile curled Mrs. Van Hallsburg's lips. "Miss Kavanaugh?"
Rory was surprised that the haughty dame even remembered her name. "Yes?"
"I assume I may sit down?"
Rory flushed, realizing she had been gaping, making her nervousness too apparent. She nodded, indicating a chair. Mrs. Van Hallsburg ran one gloved finger over the wooden seat before deigning to lower herself upon it.
She trained the full force of her regard upon Rory, her stare steady and unnerving. Rory thought fleetingly of Duffy, all the careful probing he wanted her to do, but the only question thata sprang to mind was What the hell are you doing here, lady?
After a nerve-wracking silence, she said, "You'll have to excuse my astonishment, Mrs. Van Hallsburg. Frankly, you are the last person I ever expected to see."
"Indeed."
Mrs. Van Hallsburg slowly stripped off her gloves. "I was put to some trouble to find you."
"I don't know why you would go to such bother. The few times we've met at Mr. Morrison's, I had the impression you found me beneath your notice."
"Let us merely say I didn't approve of your friendship with John."
"What right did you have to approve or disapprove? You have no claim on him."
"I have more of a claim than you could possibly imagine, my dear. The bond that existed between myself and John Morrison was something special, irrevocable, at least until you came along."
For the flicker of an instant, the winter in those pale blue eyes flared into a blaze of hatred. It was enough to make Rory shrink back but Mrs. Van Hallsburg was quick to veil the alarming expression.
"I didn't seek you out to discuss John. I came here for other reasons."
Rory frowned. "I can't imagine what they might be."
"Necessity compels me to leave New York. I need to put distance between myself and the city quickly. In short, I need to avail myself of your unique services, Miss Kavanaugh."
"You mean you want me to- to-.”
"Get one of your balloons ready immediately.
Rory stared, unable to believe the arrogance of the woman, coming to her, of all people, and asking, no, demanding such help. Her fear of Mrs. Van Hallsburg was lost in a rush of indignation.
"Are the police after you?" Rory asked bluntly.
"Not yet, to my knowledge. That hardly concerns you."
"The hell it doesn't. I'm running a balloon company, not an escape service for fugitives."
"Yet you aided John Morrison in his flight from the law. I see no reason you cannot accomplish the same for me."
No reason at all except that Rory would have aided Jack the Ripper to escape before she would have lifted one finger to help Mrs. Van Hallsburg.
She pushed abruptly to her feet. "I am sorry,.but you came to the wrong place."
"I don't think so." Mrs. Van Hallsburg tugged loose the drawstrings of her beaded purse.
Rory regarded her with scorn. "You may as well put your purse away, Mrs. Van Hallsburg. There isn't any amount you could pay that would induce me to help you."
"Oh, it isn't money that I mean to offer you, my dear" With a thin smile, Mrs. Van Hallsburg drew forth a small revolver and aimed it straight at Rory's heart.
Something was wrong. Duffy shifted uneasily, watching from the shadow of the stairs the sudden flurry of activity in the warehouse as the two lads hustled to ready one of those mammoth balloons for launching from the dock. Rory's interview with Mrs. Van Hallsburg seemed to have stretched out to an interminable length. Duffy might have rejoiced, hoping that Miss Kavanaugh possessed a good enough memory to recall all that was being said. But his satisfaction was marred by that disturbing moment when both women had appeared on the upper landing,
Duffy had kept out of sight while Rory shouted down the terse command. "Prepare the Seamus. I'm taking it up."
When the boy named Angelo had sought to question this order, Miss Kavanaugh had nearly took his head off before vanishing back into the office with Mrs. Van Hallsburg.
Duffy's own confusion was apparent in the two young men, hard at work, hooking up some kind of generator thing to the gas bag of the balloon.
"Geez, what's the matter with Rory, Pete?" Angelo was saying. "First she tells us to get a move on with the packing, now she insists she wants the balloon ready."
"I dunno," Pete replied. "I wish Tony would get back here. Rory always explains things to him."
"Not lately. Rory hasn't been right in the head since she fell in love with that Morrison," Angelo grumbled. "She doesn't even remember she dropped the Seamus into the ocean, that the only balloon left fit for travel is the Katie Moira."
Pete's face lit up with sudden inspiration. "Hey, maybe that rich woman up there is giving her some kind of commission. Maybe we won't have to move after all."
"I guess that must be it."
The boys appeared satisfied enough that they worked more swiftly. Only Duffy remained uneasy. Maybe he shouldn't have left Rory alone with that woman. Maybe he ought to burst up there and see what was going on. But if Rory was learning anything from Mrs. Van Hallsburg., his appearance would ruin everything.
Yet what would Rory want her balloon for all of a sudden? Duffy didn't believe for a moment Pete's naive suggestion that the Van Hallsburg woman wanted to hire one of the contraptions.
Yet who could guess what might be running through the lady's mind? Mrs. Van Hallsburg must be under a tremendous amount of pressure owing to his investigations. Duffy had seen people do some really crazy things when their world threatened to crumble apart, even ones as ice-blooded as Mrs. Van H.
His nervousness mounting, Duffy inched toward the stairs just as the warehouse door creaked. He hoped it was that Tony kid returning. A little older, he appeared to have more sense than those other two boys. As the door opened to reveal a pair of broad shoulders, Duffy experienced a feeling of relief. Better than the Tony kid, it was Morrison.
Zeke didn't enter with his usual arrogant stride, but lingered on the threshold, as though unsure of himself, expecting to be tossed out on his ear. His clothes were so rumpled he looked as though he had spent the past few hours being steam pressed in hell. But that was nothing compared to the haggard expression on his face, the craters beneath his eyes, the clear signs of a man who had been on an all-night binge.
"Mother o' God, Morrison," Duffy called out. "What have you been doing to yourself? I've seen week-old corpses in better shape."
As he came forward, Zeke merely regarded him with a dull stare, not even barking out his usual demand to know what Duffy was up to. "Where's Miss Kavanaugh?"
"Upstairs," Duffy said with an upward motion of his thumb. "I'm glad you're here. Something funny's going on. Look, she's getting one of those balloons ready and—"
"Damnation!" Zeke strode to glance through the open doors of the warehouse, back toward the dock, where a familiar loud hiss rattled the windows. The sight of the balloon straining skyward brought a spark back into Zeke's listless eyes.
"You don't even know the half," Duffy said. "That friend of yours, Mrs. Van Hallsburg, is upstairs with Miss Kavanaugh, and I can't begin to imagine what the devil-."
"Mrs. Van H.! Up there with Rory?"
Duffy scowled with impatience. Wouldn't the man ever let him finish his sentences? Apparently not, for Zeke shoved Duffy out of the way, his jaw hardening, as he started to rush up the steps.
But it was not necessary. Rory was already on her way down, Mrs. Van Hallsburg a step behind, but not far enough that Rory couldn't feel the muzzle of the gun jammed up against her ribs, the weapon concealed by the folds of her dress.
She had been stalling as long as she could, seeking a way to flee or overpower the woman. But it had been impossible as Mrs. Van H. never kept her gun more than a hair's breadth from Rory's side. One false move and Rory knew she was dead.
As she descended the stairs, she forced herself to remain calm, to exhibit a bravado she wasn't feeling. Just wait until she got Mrs. Van H. up in her balloon, she reassured herself. The sky was her domain, the balloon's mysteries hers to control.
Intent upon her thoughts, Rory was halfway down before she realized a man was storming up the risers. Zeke's appearance was so unexpected, tt was all she could do not to fling herself into his arms with a cry of relief and joy.
But close behind her she heard Mrs. Van Hallsburg's sharp intake of breath, then the threat. "One move, one plea for help, and I'll shoot him directly between the eyes."
Would she? Despite Mrs. Van Hallsburg's icy facade, Rory sensed the woman was mad enough to do so. Rory shrank back from Zeke's approach, calling out. "Zeke. Damn you. Get out of here."
He frowned, but kept coming. "Rory, what in blazes is going on?”
"None of your business," she said desperately. "Just go away."
"I've engaged Miss Kavanaugh's serv
ices," Mrs. Van Hallsburg said. "We're going on a journey together."
"What! The hell you are," Zeke snarled. As he took another step, Rory felt Mrs. Van Hallsburg tense.
"Stay away," Ray cried. "I mean it, Zeke. Don't you dare to touch me."
The vehemence of her command brought him up short.
"I told you before I didn't want to see you anymore. Now you and Duffy just get out of here before I have you thrown out."
She tried to telegraph a far different message to Zeke with her eyes. She wasn't sure he understood, but after exchanging a glance with Duffy, he backed off enough to allow Rory and Mrs. Van Hallsburg to proceed down the steps.
Rory had an impulse to shout out a warning and run, but Mrs. Van Hallsburg's grip on her arm was too firm, her gun hand never wavering.
"How very touching that you came to bid me farewell, John," Mrs. Van Hallsburg sneered. "But it seems the least a boy could do for his mother."
His mother? In her astonishment Rory nearly forgot herself and jerked away. How crazed was this woman to say such strange things?
Not crazed enough, Rory realized, a dull ache lodging in her heart, compounded of horror and empathy for Zeke. She could see the truth of the woman's bizarre words upon Zeke's face, shame mingled with loathing. Duffy's eyes fairly popped from his head as Mrs. Van Hallsburg continued to taunt Zeke.
"You are my son. I hope you never forget that." There was a deliberate cruelty in her voice as though she couldn't resist taunting him one last time.
"Maybe I won't, but I'm sure as hell going to try," Zeke said. He watched as Mrs. Van Hallsburg tugged Rory toward the balloon.
"Damn it, Morrison," Duffy said. "Aren't you going to do anything? Let's grab that witch and—"
"You fool." Zeke grabbed Duffy by the coattails to halt his impulsive rush forward. He whispered harshly, "Can't you tell she has a gun jammed against Rory's side?"
"Then what are we going to do? We can't just let Rory go off with her. That woman's crazy."