Chapter Twelve
The tall man in the fashionable bowler hat and well-tailored black suit did not look out of place at all on the streets of Washington D.C. He walked the streets, until he came to a large manse, slightly set back from the road, the yard surrounded by a high wrought iron fence. He checked the address against what was written on a slip of paper pulled from his pocket, and finding this to be the correct place, put the slip of paper back into an inside jacket pocket before passing through the gate and striding up to the house.
Shortly after he rang the bell, a tall man with hair that was more silver salt than salt and pepper answered the door and looked him over.
“May I help you?” The man, clearly a butler, asked dryly.
“My name is Phillip Coulson. I’m with the Pinkerton National Detective Agency.” He held out his calling card, simple black print on otherwise unrelieved cream. “I am here to speak to Mister and Missus Theodore Rumlow about their ward, Runa Freydis.”
The butler’s blue eyes narrowed slightly, and he stepped aside to let Phil inside. “Is all well with Miss Freydis?” He asked.
“That is what I am hoping to find out.” Phil frowned. “She isn’t here?”
“Let me see if the Rumlows will receive you.” The butler said by way of answer, before leaving Phil in the entryway. Phil took his hat off and waited patiently, remaining near the door. According to the clock in the hall, it was nearly ten minutes before the butler returned.
“They are awaiting you in the sitting room. This way, please.”
Phil smiled tightly and followed the man, wondering what was going on here. The girl was supposed to be a ward of the Rumlow family and under their care until she reached her twenty first birthday, which would be today. Then he remembered the paperwork he had reviewed in his office, that they were sending her to a fine finishing school abroad, and he relaxed slightly… Though something still seemed off.
He would remain sharp until he figured out what it was.
He was led into a finely appointed sitting room, where an older woman in a dark garnet gown that was the height of fashion sat demurely on a sofa, a stern looking older man standing nearby.
“Mister and Missus Rumlow, Phillip Coulson from the Pinkerton Agency.” The butler said, only to be dismissed with a wave of the man’s hand.
Phil noticed that they did not invite him to sit, and were looking at him as if he was unwelcome, despite the smiles on their faces.
“Mister Coulson.” The man who could only be Theodore Rumlow said in a charming manner, “To what do we owe this visit? Blake said it was in regard to our dear Runa.”
“Yes. As it is her twenty first birthday, I have been hired by her lawyers to locate her, and go over the particulars of the accounts she has inherited from her family if I cannot bring her to their office so they can go over accounts and the particulars of the wills themselves. As you were her guardians, this seemed the best place to start.” He smiled blandly. “Is she here?”
“Oh no. You see, Runa married our son, Brock. They are currently honeymooning around Europe.” Donna Rumlow said sweetly.
“I would be more than happy to oversee the accounts in her absence, just as I have been running the shipping company.” Theodore added.
“My congratulations to the happy couple. Unfortunately, sir, we can only go over the accounts with Miss Freydis, my apologies, the young Missus Rumlow, until such time as she gives us verbal and then written authorization otherwise. The safeguard to her inheritance was written into the estate.” He noticed a slight movement in the floor length tapestry curtains by one of the windows, but did not react at the realization that they were being spied upon. Or that he was, rather.
Something was definitely off here.
“Ah, yes, I recall something like that being mentioned previously.” Theodore frowned. Phil recalled how the Freydis lawyers had explained that Theodore had tried to gain control of the accounts when the girl was orphaned and he took her in. His suspicions only grew. He doubted that the girl had married their son, or if she had, it hadn’t been of her own free will.
“Do you know when your son and daughter-in-law plan to return?” He asked with the same bland smile that helped people underestimate him. He wasn’t a Pinkerton man for nothing, and was certainly not some rookie. “I would be happy to return at that time.”
“Oh, they are not on a set itinerary.” Donna protested. “We will see to it that she goes to meet with her lawyers as soon as she returns.”
“Very well. If anything changes, please, let us know.” Phil inclined his head to them, “Mister Rumlow, Missus Rumlow.”
“Blake, show Mister Coulson out please.” Theodore called, and the butler, who had been right outside the door, returned.
“This way, please, Mister Coulson.”
There was silence in the sitting room until they could hear the front door open and close, at which point Brock stepped out from behind the curtains, scowling.
“I’m going to find her.” Brock said firmly. “I am going to find her and bring her back here, whatever it takes.”
“You had better.” Theodore said sharply. “I wish you had kept those damn letters, or at least the advertisement.” He scowled at his wife.
“She’ll be writing letters to Blake soon. The cook, too. She was close to them. It won’t be difficult to get ahold of one of those letters, find out where she is from the return address.” Brock said with certainty. “We just have to wait, keep our eyes on them.”
“Hopefully we won’t have to wait too long.” Theodore frowned. “I want that fortune and to finally own the shipping company outright without being second guessed or blocked by the damn managers the lawyers for the Freydis estate put in.”
“I’ll get you the damned shipping company.” Brock snapped. “Just be patient a bit longer.”
“Don’t talk to me that way, boy.” Theodore snapped back at his son.
“But the girl will be married by now.” Donna reminded them, “I doubt her husband will want a divorce, given the trouble he went to in order to find someone to marry him.”
“She’s married to a rancher, and has to cook and clean for him and all the hands day in and day out without help.” Brock reminded his mother of what she had told them of the advertisement she had answered in Runa’s name, the letter received. “No one here knows she married except the people in this house, so it will be easy to convince her to leave him. She won’t even need a divorce, he won’t be able to track her down. And what woman wouldn’t want to leave a life of drudgery to be a lady of relative leisure?”
“Only one touched in the head would turn that down.” Theodore agreed.
~*~
As Blake had escorted Phil out of the house, he had whispered something that almost made Phil smile, but he refused to show it.
“Wait ten minutes until they think you’re gone. Then come around to the kitchen door in back and wait for us. We know where she is.” Blake had whispered, almost inaudibly. Phil had left the house and walked around the block, before carefully approaching the house again, making certain his route was not obvious, and going to the servant’s entrance off the kitchen.
Waiting for him in the kitchen when he opened the door was the butler, and a woman of about thirty who had to be the cook. She looked over from the pot she was stirring, before approaching Phil, Blake doing so as well.
“Titus Blake, this is Iris Pendragon.” Titus kept his voice low. “The Rumlows lied to you. Runa never married their son.”
“I don’t know what lies they’ve been telling, but she was working as a maid here since she arrived.” Iris scowled. “Making a girl that young work, it was criminal, but we all believed them when they said her inheritance wasn’t a single cent, that it was all gone and she had to work to earn her keep.”
Phil felt a sick twisting in his gut. Why had they never sent anyone to check up on the girl?
Ah. Right. Because the Rumlows gave every indication of being upstanding citizens, and they had claimed they were sending the girl to school in England. He needed to track down the bills they had forwarded to the girl’s estate managers, go over everything to determine what charges were real or fraudulent now.
“Where is she?” Phil asked quietly.
“Mister Rumlow was planning on marrying her to Brock. Never told her about it, expected her to go along without protest.” Titus was scowling now. “Missus Rumlow didn’t like that. She sent off to be a mail order bride in Runa’s name. She left on the twenty second.”
“Where?” Phil frowned.
“Somewhere in Texas. A Mexican sounding name. Something springs.” Iris frowned.
“That doesn’t narrow it down.” Phil sighed, thinking of how he would be able to track her down. He would put out feelers to those in Texas, see how many places had Mexican sounding names ending in Springs. He could narrow it down from there.
“She promised us she would write. Runa always kept her promises.” Titus pointed out. “Hopefully we’ll be receiving the first letters in two weeks or so. As soon as they arrive, we’ll bring them to you so you can have the return address.”
Well, that would certainly make his search easier.
Phil pulled a card from then case in his pocket, offering it to Titus. “The address for my office is on there. Come as soon as you can. I’ll alert her lawyers and account managers that the Rumlows may attempt to try something, and they shouldn’t pay any more bills or invoices on her behalf until we’ve located her.”
“That would be wise.” Titus scowled as a bell rang, and tucked the card into his own pocket. “You should go. They don’t come in here often, but everything has been topsy turvy as of late.”
“Will do. Let me know as soon as you find anything.” He reiterated, before hurrying out, hearing footsteps in the hall.