Post by California gal on Feb 20, 2009 13:14:13 GMT -8
Originally posted Oct. 2008
Also known as “the Lily Maid,” Elaine of Astolat was the maiden who died of unrequited love for Lancelot and floated in a barge to Camelot with a letter for Lancelot clutched in her lifeless hand. She appears in Malory and in Tennyson's idyll of "Lancelot and Elaine." The figure of Elaine in the barge became one of the most popular Victorian images. She also protected Lancelot’s shield. The name came to me as a title for this opus, and I couldn’t think of anything else!
“What did you say the name of this town was?”
Artemus Gordon looked at the woman riding beside him and grinned. “Peacetown. Looks pretty peaceful, doesn’t it?”
“Looks dead!” Lily Fortune retorted.
Artie had to agree, chuckling. This little burg in a remote corner of Wyoming did not appear very prosperous. A number of buildings had boarded-up windows and doors. Still, a few people were on the wooden walkways and porches, mostly men, though Artemus saw a short, rather stout woman standing in the open doorway of the structure bearing a sign identifying it as the “Peacetown General Mercantile.”
“There’s the hotel,” Artie said, noticing the building directly across from the mercantile.
“At least it’s in business,” Lily muttered, noting the open door.
Artemus did not respond as they guided their horses toward the hitching rack in front of “The Peacetown Inn, meals available.” He knew Lily was tired. He was as well. Nearly nine hours had elapsed since they departed from the Wanderer, and although they had stopped a few times to stretch their legs or consume some of the food brought with them, the jaunt had been a long one. Especially for someone like Lily Fortune whose recent riding experiences had been trots through city parks.
Nonetheless, she had insisted on accompanying him, nor had she voiced any complaints. Attired in a split skirt of soft suede and well-fitted boots, Lily was mounted on a sturdy pinto that Artemus had acquired, a fortuitous find in a small town where the train had stopped to take on water and fuel.
He had taken the Wanderer to Kansas City to meet with his fiancée as her latest show closed, happily aware that she was going to have a two-week hiatus before going on to Chicago to start rehearsing the next play. When the telegram from Jim had arrived cutting short the stay in Missouri, Lily had eagerly invited herself along. Artie had not argued too strongly against the plan. In fact, he had been delighted to have her company in the Wanderer on the long ride across Kansas. They talked, read to each other, fixed meals together, and discussed plans for the future.
Agents West and Gordon had finally had a respite, some time to relax. Indeed, Colonel Richmond virtually commanded them to take advantage of the lull. Delighted that for once his time off coincided with Lily Fortune’s, Artemus had joined his lady love, while Jim West had traveled by commercial train to Boise, Idaho, where he was to meet fellow agent Jeremy Pike. The two men were attending the wedding of a mutual acquaintance, a man Artemus knew, but not as well as the other pair did. He didn’t mind missing the fete for the opportunity to be with Lil. Even the fact that Lily’s mother, Prudence Fortune Peters, was also in Kansas City with her husband did not dampen his happiness. They had left Lyle and Prudence behind in Missouri when the Wanderer headed west for Wyoming.
Jim West’s telegram had not been an unwelcome interruption, primarily because, due to its arrival and the message contained, Artie and Lily were able to have more time together, away from her mother. Prudence had objected, but Lyle had winked at Artemus over his wife’s shoulder. Before long, Prudence had decided that perhaps the plan was not so bad. After all, she and her still relatively new husband would be able to sample more of Kansas City’s fine restaurants together.
Previously, the plan had been for all to remain in Kansas City, then Artie would have traveled with Lily to Chicago before rendezvousing with Jim in Denver. However, while in Boise, Jim and Jeremy had received word from Colonel Richmond that a man in Peacetown, Wyoming had very important papers containing information about a counterfeiting ring, so they needed to travel there to talk to him. Artemus was to meet them there. The information in Jim’s telegram had been pretty sparse, but Artie knew he would learn more once the agents joined up.
Because the mission involved simply picking up the papers, returning to the train, then carrying them east, Artemus saw no reason why Lily should not accompany him. Apparently the man with the papers, one Romeo Castillo, lived in Peacetown but was too ill to travel far. Artemus was curious as to how such a man obtained vital documents, but because Richmond had sent the orders, his was “not to reason why” but to simply obey. Apparently the colonel had verified that the papers were important enough to necessitate all three men guarding them!
“Oh Poky,” Lily sighed as her feet hit the dusty street and she patted the pinto’s neck, “you’re a lovely horse but pardon me if I say I really don’t want to see you for at least twenty-four hours, after a couple of very long hot baths!”
Artemus laughed aloud, pulling his saddlebags off his chestnut, and then the small portmanteau strapped behind the pinto’s saddle. Artie had teased Lily about needing such a bag, but she had ignored him after sniffing, “Well, women and men are different, in case you haven’t noticed!” He assured her he had noticed, and added “Vive la difference!”
Gripping the saddle bags and Lily’s bag in one hand, Artemus took her arm as they mounted the steps, which creaked under their weight. Not a posh hotel, Artemus mused, glancing at the woman at his side when they entered through the open double doors. Lily was much accustomed to finer accommodations since her ascendance in the acting world. But he also knew that she had known hard times during that rise. He saw nothing on her face to indicate distaste or reluctance.
The carpet on the floor was extremely faded. So much so that determining its original color was impossible. A couple of chairs off to one side were covered with knit afghans, possibly to disguise their age and flaws. But a smiling man was behind the counter to greet them.
“What can I do for you, sir and madam?”
“My name is Artemus Gordon. I believe my partner arranged for a room.”
“Oh… oh yes.” The man’s eyes flicked to Lily. “But he didn’t mention you were bringing your wife.”
“My fiancée,” Artie corrected with a smile. “Last minute plans. So we’ll require an extra room. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all! Not at all! As you may have noticed, this isn’t exactly a bustling metropolis. Oh, I have a message for you, Mr. Gordon. Let me see.” The clerk tipped his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. “Yes. Mr. West would like you to meet him as soon as you arrive. He said it was urgent.”
Artemus glanced toward the stairs. “Is he in his room?”
“No, sir. You are to go to the Castillo house. That’s where he and Mr. Pike are. Maybe you noticed it on your way into town. Big house up on the hill.”
They had noticed, and commented on it. A two-story mansion perched atop a knoll just at the edge of town, though somewhat off the road they had traveled on. They had discussed whether it was occupied, for even from the distance, the house appeared somewhat unkempt and dilapidated, with sagging shutters and a dullness to the paint.
“Does Mr. Castillo live there?”
The clerk blinked. “Don't know about that. Mr. West just said it was real important that you come right away.”
Lily put her hand on his arm. “Go ahead, Artemus. I’ll be fine. Especially if the gentleman can provide me with a hot bath.”
“Oh, indeed, ma’am. Yes, indeed. Quicker than you can shake a stick. Come right along, and I’ll show you to your room.” He came around the counter, keys in hand, picking up the bags Artemus had put on the floor.
“As soon as I find out what’s going on, I’ll be back, and we can sample the dining room.” Artemus nodded toward the door at the far side of the lobby, which was labeled “restaurant.” “More than likely Jim and Jeremy will be ready for supper too.” He kissed her lips lightly.
Lily watched him exit, and through the open doors she saw him mount his horse and head in the direction from which they had come. The clerk was waiting, so she followed him up the stairs—on which the carpet was barely existent—and to the second floor hallway. He opened a door and stepped aside.
“Will this do, ma’am?”
It was not the Ritz, but appeared clean and the bed looked reasonably comfortable. “Just fine. Leave Mr. Gordon’s bag here. He can get it when he returns. Which is his room?”
“Right next door, ma’am. Right next door.” The clerk started for the door.
Lily thought it a little strange that he did not wait for a gratuity. “The bath?”
“I’ll come tell you when it’s ready. The bath room is down at the end of the hall. Won’t be long. Nice and hot.”
As the door closed, Lily turned, eyeing the bed. Laying down to rest her aching bones and muscles was a tempting idea. But if the bath was going to be ready soon, she needed to prepare for it, to have her soap and clean clothes on hand. So she opened the portmanteau and began to remove items. The ones she would need right away were placed on the bed, but some others she decided to put in a drawer of the battered bureau with its milky mirror, though she wished the room had a closet or at least a wardrobe where she could hang her skirt and blouse so they would not get rumpled.
Next best thing was to lay them flat in a drawer, and she was doing that, carefully spreading a shirtwaist out, when her fingers encountered something at the rear of the drawer. Pulling it out, Lily frowned deeply. How strange! What were the odds of finding a razor exactly like the one she had given Jim West on his last birthday in the drawer of a bureau of an empty room in a rundown hotel in Peacetown, Wyoming?
The razor was distinctive, hand tooled, made of the finest steel, the leather casing trimmed with etched silver. She had found one in a small shop in San Francisco, and knowing Jim’s birthday was approaching earlier this summer, had purchased it. He had been delighted with the razor. Artemus told her Jim raved about the keenness of the blade and insisted his partner try it. Artie had heartily agreed that it was the best shave he had ever given himself, so Lily planned to look for a similar one for him on her next trip to the California city.
Shaking her head, Lily placed the razor on top of the bureau. If Jim had his razor with him, they could compare the two before handing this one over to the clerk. A previous guest must have left it, and considering the apparent lack of guests here, discerning which one had this room last should not be difficult.
Her unpacking finished, Lily put her bag on the floor and Artemus’s saddlebags on the bureau, next to the razor. She sat down on the bed to await the call that the bath was ready. After a minute or so the temptation was too strong, and she laid down. A few moments later, Lily Fortune opened her eyes into the dimness of the room.
Momentarily confused, she sat up, looking around. Why is it so dark? Oh, goodness! I fell asleep! How long…? She reached for the lapel watch she had placed on the bedside stand and squinted at it in the gloom. Almost seven! I slept for nearly three hours. Why didn’t I hear the knock on the door when the clerk came to tell me the bath was ready?
Sliding off the bed, Lily went to the window, which overlooked the street. The late summer twilight shadowed everything but she could not see any person moving. Nor a light in any window, including the mercantile across the way. Picking up the room key, she went out the door, further surprised to find that the wall sconces in the corridor had not been lit.
She made her way to the stairs in the near darkness, with the only faint light coming through the window at the far end of the hall, and descended slowly. No lamps illuminated the lobby either. The front door stood open, as it had earlier, but the clerk was not behind the counter. She went to that counter to ring the bell there. After a few moments, she rang it again. The tones seem to die in the utter silence.
Finally, Lily moved around the counter and knocked on the door behind it. Receiving no response, she opened it to find a bare room, no furnishings whatsoever, not even a carpet on the wooden floor. Baffled, she then crossed to the restaurant door. Like the lobby, it was dark and empty. All the tables were bare, and some had chairs upturned on them. Even in the murk she could see dust covering some of the furnishings in this room.
What in the world?
Going to the front door, Lily stepped out onto the hotel’s porch. The entire town was dark. Across the way, the door of the mercantile stood open, but no lights emanated from inside, nor from the windows upstairs. As she gazed around, she realized the only light visible was emanating from a window of the Castillo house, on the rise above town. A second floor window, she surmised, because the roofs of the town’s buildings covered her view of the lower level of the house.
Abruptly Lily realized that her pinto was no longer tied to the hitching rack. Of course, Artemus had ridden his horse to keep the appointment with his fellow agents. She frowned. That was nearly three hours ago. Why were they not back at the hotel by now? Where was the clerk? Where was everyone?
An alley lay between the hotel and the building next. Lily hurried down that alley, to the rear of the hotel, where she found a building that might have once been a stable, but which was half fallen down. No horses were in sight.
What is going on here?
That thought swirled through Lily Fortune’s brain as she slowly returned to the street, and reentered the hotel. Once again she checked the restaurant, going into the kitchen, which obviously had not been used in a very long time, and then back out to the hotel lobby, calling aloud, “Anyone here?” The situation was surreal… unreal. Too much like one of the plays in which she performed. Or like the town of Paradox.
Artemus and Jim had told her the story of their weird encounter with a vengeance-seeking man who arranged for Jim, and then Artie, to be transported to the town of Paradox, a town not on any maps, and without human habitation… at least none who wished to be seen. In the end, Emmett Stark had come very close to accomplishing his cruel goal of having one agent kill the other, aware of the anguish that the survivor would endure.
Unlike that eerie desert town, Peacetown had appeared to have inhabitants. She had seen them earlier, indeed, talked to one, the clerk. But where were they? Back on the hotel’s front porch, Lily stared up at the beacon of light in the window of the Castillo house. She knew she had no choice. Darkness was falling, and thus far no moon was appearing. Obviously someone was in that house, hopefully Artemus, Jim, and Jeremy among them. She needed to get there before full dark.
Thankful that she had not changed from her comfortable riding garb and boots, Lily set off, walking down the board sidewalk passed the closed and darkened buildings, fighting off a sense that despite the town seemed deserted, she was actually not alone and eyes were on her. Just like the feeling Jim had described he had experienced in Paradox. This made no sense. Where had everyone gone? Above all, where were Artemus, Jim, and Jeremy?
Halfway up the sloping lane that led to the large house, Lily realized that at this moment she was more puzzled than frightened. Vaguely she wondered if her fiancé was playing some sort of game, a trick, but brushed that aside. Artie could be a jokester, but nothing like this. He could never have planned such an elaborate ruse in such a short time, and presumably he had not known he would be coming to Wyoming before a few days ago.
Nearing the large structure, she could see more lights through the first floor windows, and on the porch. Welcoming lights. Perhaps, for some reason, the entire town had gathered here. Most assuredly, the population of the town was small. Maybe…
Lily forced herself to stop speculating. She would know the answers in a few moments. Because she had walked up the ascending road swiftly, by the time she reached the porch she was breathing heavily, and aware that she was also perspiring in the warm evening. So she paused, took a few deep breaths, then used a handkerchief to dab away the moisture from her forehead and cheeks.
She went up the stairs to the door, which was large and heavy-looking with an iron knocker in the shape of a horse’s head. Close-up, the perception of the poor condition of the house was confirmed. Paint was badly needed, and a couple of the boards on the porch should be replaced before someone stepped through them. Shabby genteel was the thought that came to mind as she lifted the knocker and let it drop twice.
The swiftness with which the door opened caused Lily to wonder if her approach had not been observed. A rather short, portly man gazed at her with mild interest, not appearing surprised at all. “May I help you, ma’am?” He was attired in a business suit that did not resemble a butler’s livery.
“I hope so,” she smiled. “I’m afraid I’m somewhat lost. I wonder if I could speak to the owner of this house?”
He bowed slightly, stepping back as an invitation to enter. Lily moved by him, not at all surprised to find that the interior was as tattered as the outside. Like the hotel, the carpet was worn and faded; wallpaper, also faded, was torn in some areas. A couple of darker spots on the wall indicated that pictures had once hung there. Sold for funds? A scarred but obviously very fine grandfather clock stood against the wall, beginning to chime the hour of eight. Shabby genteel, indeed.
The chubby man led her to a room halfway down the hallway toward a curving staircase, pushing open a sliding door and again stepping aside, allowing her to enter. Lily found herself in a small parlor that might have once been exquisite, but again was threadbare. A woman rose from a chair near a fireplace.
“Please excuse me for intruding,” Lily said quickly. “I’m looking for Mr. Gordon and his friends.”
The woman was middle aged, tall and on the thin side, faded red hair that contained streaks of gray was twisted in a thick knot atop her head. She might once have been quite attractive, but time—or something—had roughened her skin, hardened her features. Her dress was plain, a faded gray, that either had been made for a larger woman or else this one had lost weight. The dress hung loosely on her frame.
“Mr. Gordon? I don’t believe I know the name.” Her voice contained a certain amount of culture in the tone. The expression on the woman’s face was pleasant.
Lily was momentarily stunned. “But he… they… is this the Castillo house?”
“Castillo? No. My name is Agatha Love. My father, Augustus Love, built this house… founded Peacetown.”
“I don’t understand. I just don’t understand. This is all so confusing!”
Miss Love reached out a hand, touching Lily’s arm. “Please sit down. You look as though you feel faint.”
“No…” Lily was going to argue that she was not having a case of vapors, but decided a chair would be very welcome right now. She sat down on the nearest, a cushioned settee. Miss Love went to the doorway and spoke to someone.
“Harvey will bring tea. I’m sure it will help. May I ask your name?”
“Lily Fortune. I rode into town this afternoon with my fiancé…”
“Lily Fortune? The actress? Oh, I should have recognized you from pictures in the newspaper. You are quite a beautiful lady!” Agatha Love returned to her seat by the fireplace. “Do forgive me for interrupting. We don’t get many celebrities in Peacetown.”
“My fiancé, Artemus Gordon, and I came here to meet two friends of his.” Lily decided not to mention the agents’ official status, at least not right away. “We went to the hotel and were told by the clerk that Mr. West and Mr. Pike were at the ‘Castillo house.’ This home was pointed out to us. I went to my room to await a bath, and Mr. Gordon went to meet his friends… at the Castillo house. I fell asleep on the bed, and when I awakened, the hotel was deserted. In fact, the entire town appears deserted.”
Sadness washed over Agatha Love’s face. “I’m afraid it is deserted. No one lives there. The hotel has not been in operation for over a year.” She leaned forward slightly, peering at Lily. “Are you sure you didn’t dream it all?”
“I’m positive. My belongings are still in the hotel. The bed is made up, the room is clean… Miss Love, are you certain…?”
“I have lived here virtually all my life, Miss Fortune, except for some time spent in school. I watched the town grow, and then die. I am the only resident now. Myself, my two servants. I can’t imagine what you think you saw in town.”
“Do you… is the name Romeo Castillo familiar?”
Miss Love shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid not. Miss Fortune, I hate to ask this, but are you sure you’re well? You appear exhausted.”
Lily pressed her hand over her eyes for a moment, removing it when she heard the servant Harvey enter. He was pushing a cart on which a silver tea service rested, along with some small sandwiches. “We thought the lady might be hungry, Miss Love.”
“How thoughtful, Harvey. Thank Mildred. And ask her to prepare a guest room.”
“Oh, I can’t stay!” Lily protested.
“You must. You cannot go back to that hotel alone in the dark. Stay the night. I can provide you with nightclothes and anything else you need. In the morning, we can go back into town and look around.”
Reluctantly, Lily saw the wisdom in the suggestion. She was tired, and hungry. If Artie and the others went back to the hotel, surely they would see what she had seen, the lights from this house. But why did the clerk tell Artemus to go to the Castillo house and indicate that this house would be his destination? Was there another house…? No. They would have seen it. She sipped from the bracing cup of tea that Agatha had poured and handed to her. Yes, remaining here was the right thing to do. Artemus would find her.
“Oh my God! My head!”
“Relax, Artie.” The familiar voice, coming from—it seemed—a great distance, spoke soothingly. “It’ll go away in a while.”
Artemus Gordon forced his eyes open against the worst headache he was sure he had ever experienced. He was already aware that when he tried to move a hand to press against his throbbing forehead, the hand could not seem to reach his head. Something was holding it back. The light was very dim, something he was thankful for at the moment. Bright illumination might have been the death of him.
At first everything was blurred and fuzzy. He saw some darker shapes in the faint light, but could not immediately make out what they were. Then, as his vision cleared, he first observed, directly across from him, the unshaven face of his partner, James West. Jim was seated, leaning against a stone wall, his hands raised slightly on either side of him. His wrists, Artie realized, were secured in iron cuffs attached to chains fastened into the stone.
Artemus turned his head, almost too swiftly, and had to close his eyes a moment to fight off the vertigo and nausea, not to mention the suddenly increased throbbing inside his skull. Taking a breath, he opened his eyes to note that his own wrists, as well, were secured in chains that were too short to allow him to reach his head. Off to the left, he saw the equally unshaven face of Jeremy Pike, also seated against the wall, also manacled.
“What… what’s going on?”
“Old friend of yours worked a damn clever ruse,” Pike said soberly. “Now she’s got the both of you, and me to boot.”
“She? What… who?” Artemus shifted his gaze to Jim.
“Emma Valentine.”
“She’s dead!”
Some months ago, the agents had received word that murderess Emma Valentine had escaped from the women’s prison to which she had been sentenced for life. They had joined the search for the dangerous female, only to learn that a woman of her description had boarded a steamer in Galveston, heading for Brazil. Not much longer after that, news came that the steamer had been sunk due to, apparently, a boiler explosion. No one survived.
“Well, that’s the story she manufactured,” Jim responded. “And did it well. But she’s upstairs in the big old house, and we’re down here. I don’t suppose you brought any toys with you.”
For the first time Artemus realized that he was in his shirtsleeves, jacket removed. The other two men were clad similarly. “I had some of our favorite kind of buttons on my jacket. Even if I was still wearing it, I doubt I could reach them.”
“We figured that’s the reason for the short chains,” Jeremy offered. “Her men searched us pretty thoroughly, but Emma isn’t taking any chances.”
“Artie,” Jim said, “how did she get you?”
“Well, she didn’t. I didn’t see Emma Valentine. I came to the house because of the message—which I presume you never sent—to meet you at the Castillo house. He… oh my God! Lily!”
“What?” Both Pike and West spoke in unison.
Artie leaned his head back against the cool stone, staring at the ceiling of the small room. The ceiling was, of course, the floor of the house above, the aged wooden rafters visible. The light came from two small lanterns hanging in upper corners of the room. A small dirty window was high above Jim’s head, revealing that darkness had fallen. Artie took a breath, then looked at his fellow agents and captives.
“Lily came with me. She… we wanted some more time together before we both have to return to our jobs. I figured… I knew it was a routine assignment. I left her at the hotel!”
“She’ll be all right,” Jim assured him firmly. “Don’t forget, Emma is pretty big on women’s independence. And Lily is about as independent as they come. Emma will like her.”
“Yeah.” Artie swallowed hard, trying to convince himself of his partner’s assurances. “You two… how did you…?”
“Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly.” Jeremy’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“I don't know who this Romeo Castillo is, or was,” Jim said, “but obviously the colonel checked him out before sending us the orders to come meet him. Like you, we went to the hotel, got rooms, and then almost right away got a message to meet Castillo here. We rode up, the door was opened by a short man who obviously liked his food.”
Artemus nodded. “I met the friendly fellow myself.”
Jeremy took up the story. “We were invited to sit down in the parlor, told that Mr. Castillo was taking his usual afternoon nap and would join us shortly. The butler, or whoever he was, brought us ‘refreshments.’ Ham sandwiches and excellent whiskey. I don’t remember much after that until we woke up down here.”
“Familiar story,” Artemus said. “Same man met me, took me into the parlor and served whiskey. Said he’d tell you two and Mr. Castillo that I was there. No sandwich. I think I took about two swallows. Don’t know what it was, but it was potent.” He looked at the two other men. “You’ve seen Emma Valentine?”
“Oh yeah,” Jim responded, shifting his position slightly. His fingers felt numb after the hours of being suspended in the manacles, and the stone floor was damnably hard. “She comes down to tell us what she has in store for us.”
“And what’s that? Or don’t I want to know?”
“Oh, it’s very charming,” Jeremy replied, “just like the lady. She’s going to drown us. At least that’s the latest story.”
“Drown… how? I don’t recall a river or lake in this area. In her bathtub?”
“She claims she has a method to flood this cell with water. Very, very slowly. Seems she was just waiting for you.” Jim’s words were light, but his expression was hard. They had been imprisoned here for at least two days, and had not begun to come up with a method of escape.
Twice a day, one man at a time was unshackled, taken out of the room to attend to personal needs, and to be fed. The entire time, four guns were trained on them, plus handcuffs were fastened to their wrists, more shackles to their ankles. Both men had futilely hoped that somehow Artemus would not be lured into the trap, all the while knowing that Gordon had no more reason to be suspicious than they had been.
Artie looked around the cell. The walls and floor appeared to be solid rock. Openings where water might be introduced were not visible. The door was heavy wood, with no window in it. “Do you think she’s serious?” he asked.
Jim shook his head. “You know what she was like when we captured her in Kansas City. Insane, and full of insane plans. I don’t think she’s changed. Whether she actually intends to drown us, who knows? Her first story was that we would be hanged. Besides, what difference does the method make?” He could not remember feeling so helpless, so powerless, in a long, long while.
“Jer, you had nothing to do with that case. Why does she want to harm you?”
Pike smiled ruefully. “Guilt by association, it seems.”
“I tried to talk Emma into letting Jeremy go,” Jim said. “No luck.” He gazed somberly at his partner secured on the opposite wall. “Artie, it seems that our only hope at this time is Lily.”
“You’ve been very kind, Miss Love,” Lily Fortune smiled across the breakfast table. The smile was weak, for she had slept heavily, and her head ached slightly. The coffee was helping ease the headache, but not the deep concern she was experiencing.
“Not at all. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve had a guest, let alone a very famous guest. I wish I had had an opportunity to see you perform.”
“Perhaps someday,” Lily murmured.
“Yes. Perhaps. We’ll have a hearty breakfast—it’s always best to set out on a full stomach—and then we’ll stroll into town and see what in goodness name is going on there.”
“Thank you. I really cannot understand what has happened to Mr. Gordon and his friends. None of this makes any sense.” How many times had she said or thought that?
“I would continue to suggest that you had a vivid dream,” Miss Love said, then paused her words while the short, stout woman brought platters of eggs, ham, and potatoes to place before them. “Thank you, Mildred. Miss Fortune, this is my cook and housekeeper, Mildred, we are honored to have Miss Fortune, the famous actress, as our guest.”
“Oh yes, ma’am,” Mildred beamed. “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Fortune.”
“How do you do,” Lily returned, trying not to appear dismayed at the amount of food on her plate. While she was hungry, she was not that hungry. Hard to believe that with her slim shape Miss Love ate like this all the time. Was she trying to impress her guest?
“Now, as I was saying,” Agatha Love picked up her fork as the housekeeper departed, “I have thought a great deal about this and I no longer believe you merely dreamed it. That would make no sense. I mean, obviously you arrived in Peacetown by some manner. I certainly cannot understand what became of your fiancé. Er… he is a reliable man, isn’t he?”
“Oh, very!” Should I tell her Artemus is a government agent? Not yet. “Mr. Gordon would never have abandoned me like this. Something… something has happened.”
“Let us finish our breakfast,” Agatha Love spoke encouragingly, “then we’ll go into town and see if we can solve this mystery. Perhaps Mr. Gordon and his friends are now at the hotel.”
Oh, I hope so! Lily smiled slightly to show her appreciation for the support, but deep within her soul, she knew that Artemus was not waiting at the hotel. He would not have settled in for the night without speaking to her, and upon finding she was absent, he would have launched a search. Jim and Jeremy, if they were with him, would have joined. Eventually, they would have come to this house.
“It must be wonderful to have an independent career,” Agatha said then. “I must admit I’m somewhat surprised that you are going to throw it all away for marriage.”
“I’m not throwing it away.” Lily picked up her cup of coffee and sipped it. “Artemus and I have discussed it thoroughly. He is going to continue his career, and I shall continue mine, so long as I wish.”
Miss Love seemed startled by this revelation. “What about children?”
“There will be children,” Lily smiled. “And when they come, I will consider leaving the stage. But even that is not definite. A great deal depends on my feelings at the time. Mr. Gordon agrees that it is my decision to make.”
The other woman sat back. “My goodness. A man in a million. A billion!”
Now Lily had to laugh. “He wasn’t always that way, I must honestly admit. When we first discussed marriage, his idea was that I would leave the stage and remain at home, waiting for him as a dutiful wife—in his opinion—should do. When I made it clear that was not going to be the case, he began to rethink his priorities. Artemus is a stubborn man at times, but an intelligent one. He decided he loved me enough to yield.”
A thoughtful expression covered Agatha Love’s countenance. “Indeed. Indeed. But what about his friend? Did you say his name was… West?”
“Yes. James West. I think Jim is a bit more traditional in his thoughts, but again, he is not stupid. If and when he would meet the love of his life, and if, like me, she had a career, I’m pretty sure Jim would not be foolish enough to lose her because of his mulishness.” What would Jim have done if Cinnia had lived and wanted to remain with the Pinkerton Agency? We’ll never know.
“James West,” Agatha said slowly. “Is he an actor? I’m certain I’ve seen his name in the newspaper. Even a picture. Fine-looking man. Very fine.”
Lily smiled. “Many women agree with you, Miss Love. Jim is very handsome. Of course, I think my fiancé is very handsome as well.”
“Of course!” Agatha Love cried suddenly. “I’ve seen both their pictures. They are detectives of some sort, aren’t they? Quite well known. I don't know why this didn’t occur to me before. James West and Artemus Gordon… they work for the government?”
“Yes,” Lily admitted. No real harm in telling this lonely, isolated woman the truth. What kind of life did she have here in this deserted town? No wonder she was so anxious to have me remain the night. She must rarely have anyone to even talk to besides her servants! “Artemus and Jim are Secret Service agents. So is their friend, Jeremy Pike, who was with Jim. They came to Peacetown to meet this Romeo Castillo I mentioned. He was supposed to have some important information for them.”
“Oh, goodness me! How exciting!” Agatha pressed a hand against her thin bosom. “Secret Service agents in Peacetown! My!”
“And you are certain you never heard of this Mr. Castillo?”
“Oh yes. The name is completely unknown to me. You must realize that I would certainly know if anyone else was living in the town. Harvey makes periodic checks through the town to ensure no vagrants have moved in. The fire danger is very real.”
“I can understand that. What happened to the town? Obviously it was thriving at one time.”
The older woman sighed dramatically. “It was a lovely town. We had over two hundred residents at the peak. But then the mines gave out.”
“Mines?” Lily tried to remember if they had seen any evidence of mining in the area on the ride to Peacetown. “Gold?” She could not recall such signs, and surely Artemus would have commented if they had. He had been pointing out landmarks, natural and otherwise, during the entire ride. Where were these mines?
“No. Silver. The mines are about ten miles from here, in the hills. They were not a big bonanza, but my father and a number of men made a tidy fortune from them. Papa tried to convince the other miners to invest in property, perhaps go into ranching, but they were not interested. With the miners gone, the businesses in town simply… faded away.”
“How sad. But you remained?”
“Oh yes. I wouldn’t desert Papa. Never. He died ten years ago.”
Ten years ago Agatha Love would have been past her prime, but still not ancient. Lily Fortune knew bone structure, and she imagined that before age and, apparently, weather had hardened Agatha’s complexion, she would have been a very attractive lady, especially if the now faded hair was the brilliant shade Lily imagined it could have been. Had she forsaken an opportunity to marry due to her devotion to her father?
Harvey brought a carriage around to the front of the house. Like everything else, it was shabby and faded, though the two horses drawing it appeared in fine condition. Lily was glad she did not have to contemplate the long walk uphill from town again. She was also glad that Agatha had not insisted she eat more of her breakfast. Miss Love herself had devoured all that was placed before her. Again Lily wondered if the lavish breakfast had been set to impress a guest, and perhaps Agatha was unaccustomed to eating so well, thus did not want to waste it. If that was the case, Lily experienced a pang of guilt over how much she had left on her plate!
The sun was bright and warm, but Miss Love did not suggest that the bonnet on the carriage be raised. Lily did not mention it, fearful that perhaps that mechanism was damaged, and to bring it up would embarrass her hostess. She was already extremely grateful that Miss Love had so willingly taken her in. Others in the maiden lady’s situation might have been suspicious and fearful of a stranger, female or male.
Harvey halted the buggy in front of the hotel, then hopped down from his seat to assist the two ladies to the porch. The hotel door was still standing open; so was the door of the mercantile across the street. Unlike when Lily and Artemus had entered the town, though, not a soul was to be seen.
“The hotel was once a thriving establishment,” Agatha sighed as they entered. “And quite lovely too. I hate to see it like this.” She halted in the lobby, looking around.
“Why don’t you wait on the porch,” Lily suggested. “I can look around.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think of it! You say a clerk was here yesterday?” Miss Love walked toward the counter. “Goodness, look at the dust!”
Lily moved up alongside the taller woman and stared at the counter. It was covered in a layer of fine dust that Agatha ran a finger through, distaste on her face. Dust that had not been there yesterday, Lily was certain. She almost remarked on that, but remained silent. She knew that Agatha Love still harbored doubts about her story, despite what she said earlier.
Instead, Lily went to the door behind the counter and opened it. As yesterday, it was bare and vacant. Except…. She stared down at the bare wood floor. She had assumed the room had been used as an office at one time. Lily had to admit she had not noticed the dust on the floor in here, but she was fairly certain she would have spotted that boot print if it had been there yesterday, even in the gloom that had pervaded in the late evening. The print of a rather large foot. Not a woman’s print, and of a greater size than Harvey wore, she was certain.
“Is anything wrong, dear?” Agatha inquired as Lily stepped out into the lobby again.
“No, nothing,” Lily murmured, wondering at her sudden decision to not reveal everything. Something very strange was going on here. She had talked to Artemus and Jim often enough about their cases to know that taking everything at face value was not wise, especially when it came to people. The two agents had told her of persons who had appeared to be perfectly respectable, incapable of doing harm, who turned out to be vicious criminals. Even some females.
“I want to look upstairs again,” Lily said, heading for the staircase. At first she thought the other woman was not going to follow, but halfway up the stairs, Lily glanced around and Agatha Love was ascending behind her.
She still had the door key but it was not necessary. The door to the room she had occupied was standing open. Thankfully her portmanteau was still on the floor beside the bed, and her possessions were in the bureau drawers. But Artemus’s saddlebags were not! The razor, the one so much like the one she had given Jim for his birthday, was no longer resting on top of the bureau.
“My dear,” Agatha said from the doorway in that cultured tone, “you look ghastly, as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
Lily turned, smiling wanly. “I’m not sure what I expected, but I’m pretty certain I did not believe my possessions would still be here.”
“Well, it certainly seems to prove you did spend some time here, I’ll grant you that!” Agatha Love chuckled dryly.
Lily decided not to comment on the remark. “I’d like to walk around town a little, if you don’t mind. I don’t know what I will find—if anything—but I feel… Artemus has to be here somewhere.” But where? And in what condition? Lily did not want to really think about the possibilities. She only wanted to solve the mystery right now.
THE NIGHT OF THE LILY MAID
[/center]Also known as “the Lily Maid,” Elaine of Astolat was the maiden who died of unrequited love for Lancelot and floated in a barge to Camelot with a letter for Lancelot clutched in her lifeless hand. She appears in Malory and in Tennyson's idyll of "Lancelot and Elaine." The figure of Elaine in the barge became one of the most popular Victorian images. She also protected Lancelot’s shield. The name came to me as a title for this opus, and I couldn’t think of anything else!
What, sir, would the people of the earth be without women?
They would be scarce, sir, almighty scarce.
—Mark Twain (1835-1910), American author
They would be scarce, sir, almighty scarce.
—Mark Twain (1835-1910), American author
“What did you say the name of this town was?”
Artemus Gordon looked at the woman riding beside him and grinned. “Peacetown. Looks pretty peaceful, doesn’t it?”
“Looks dead!” Lily Fortune retorted.
Artie had to agree, chuckling. This little burg in a remote corner of Wyoming did not appear very prosperous. A number of buildings had boarded-up windows and doors. Still, a few people were on the wooden walkways and porches, mostly men, though Artemus saw a short, rather stout woman standing in the open doorway of the structure bearing a sign identifying it as the “Peacetown General Mercantile.”
“There’s the hotel,” Artie said, noticing the building directly across from the mercantile.
“At least it’s in business,” Lily muttered, noting the open door.
Artemus did not respond as they guided their horses toward the hitching rack in front of “The Peacetown Inn, meals available.” He knew Lily was tired. He was as well. Nearly nine hours had elapsed since they departed from the Wanderer, and although they had stopped a few times to stretch their legs or consume some of the food brought with them, the jaunt had been a long one. Especially for someone like Lily Fortune whose recent riding experiences had been trots through city parks.
Nonetheless, she had insisted on accompanying him, nor had she voiced any complaints. Attired in a split skirt of soft suede and well-fitted boots, Lily was mounted on a sturdy pinto that Artemus had acquired, a fortuitous find in a small town where the train had stopped to take on water and fuel.
He had taken the Wanderer to Kansas City to meet with his fiancée as her latest show closed, happily aware that she was going to have a two-week hiatus before going on to Chicago to start rehearsing the next play. When the telegram from Jim had arrived cutting short the stay in Missouri, Lily had eagerly invited herself along. Artie had not argued too strongly against the plan. In fact, he had been delighted to have her company in the Wanderer on the long ride across Kansas. They talked, read to each other, fixed meals together, and discussed plans for the future.
Agents West and Gordon had finally had a respite, some time to relax. Indeed, Colonel Richmond virtually commanded them to take advantage of the lull. Delighted that for once his time off coincided with Lily Fortune’s, Artemus had joined his lady love, while Jim West had traveled by commercial train to Boise, Idaho, where he was to meet fellow agent Jeremy Pike. The two men were attending the wedding of a mutual acquaintance, a man Artemus knew, but not as well as the other pair did. He didn’t mind missing the fete for the opportunity to be with Lil. Even the fact that Lily’s mother, Prudence Fortune Peters, was also in Kansas City with her husband did not dampen his happiness. They had left Lyle and Prudence behind in Missouri when the Wanderer headed west for Wyoming.
Jim West’s telegram had not been an unwelcome interruption, primarily because, due to its arrival and the message contained, Artie and Lily were able to have more time together, away from her mother. Prudence had objected, but Lyle had winked at Artemus over his wife’s shoulder. Before long, Prudence had decided that perhaps the plan was not so bad. After all, she and her still relatively new husband would be able to sample more of Kansas City’s fine restaurants together.
Previously, the plan had been for all to remain in Kansas City, then Artie would have traveled with Lily to Chicago before rendezvousing with Jim in Denver. However, while in Boise, Jim and Jeremy had received word from Colonel Richmond that a man in Peacetown, Wyoming had very important papers containing information about a counterfeiting ring, so they needed to travel there to talk to him. Artemus was to meet them there. The information in Jim’s telegram had been pretty sparse, but Artie knew he would learn more once the agents joined up.
Because the mission involved simply picking up the papers, returning to the train, then carrying them east, Artemus saw no reason why Lily should not accompany him. Apparently the man with the papers, one Romeo Castillo, lived in Peacetown but was too ill to travel far. Artemus was curious as to how such a man obtained vital documents, but because Richmond had sent the orders, his was “not to reason why” but to simply obey. Apparently the colonel had verified that the papers were important enough to necessitate all three men guarding them!
“Oh Poky,” Lily sighed as her feet hit the dusty street and she patted the pinto’s neck, “you’re a lovely horse but pardon me if I say I really don’t want to see you for at least twenty-four hours, after a couple of very long hot baths!”
Artemus laughed aloud, pulling his saddlebags off his chestnut, and then the small portmanteau strapped behind the pinto’s saddle. Artie had teased Lily about needing such a bag, but she had ignored him after sniffing, “Well, women and men are different, in case you haven’t noticed!” He assured her he had noticed, and added “Vive la difference!”
Gripping the saddle bags and Lily’s bag in one hand, Artemus took her arm as they mounted the steps, which creaked under their weight. Not a posh hotel, Artemus mused, glancing at the woman at his side when they entered through the open double doors. Lily was much accustomed to finer accommodations since her ascendance in the acting world. But he also knew that she had known hard times during that rise. He saw nothing on her face to indicate distaste or reluctance.
The carpet on the floor was extremely faded. So much so that determining its original color was impossible. A couple of chairs off to one side were covered with knit afghans, possibly to disguise their age and flaws. But a smiling man was behind the counter to greet them.
“What can I do for you, sir and madam?”
“My name is Artemus Gordon. I believe my partner arranged for a room.”
“Oh… oh yes.” The man’s eyes flicked to Lily. “But he didn’t mention you were bringing your wife.”
“My fiancée,” Artie corrected with a smile. “Last minute plans. So we’ll require an extra room. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all! Not at all! As you may have noticed, this isn’t exactly a bustling metropolis. Oh, I have a message for you, Mr. Gordon. Let me see.” The clerk tipped his head back, closing his eyes for a moment. “Yes. Mr. West would like you to meet him as soon as you arrive. He said it was urgent.”
Artemus glanced toward the stairs. “Is he in his room?”
“No, sir. You are to go to the Castillo house. That’s where he and Mr. Pike are. Maybe you noticed it on your way into town. Big house up on the hill.”
They had noticed, and commented on it. A two-story mansion perched atop a knoll just at the edge of town, though somewhat off the road they had traveled on. They had discussed whether it was occupied, for even from the distance, the house appeared somewhat unkempt and dilapidated, with sagging shutters and a dullness to the paint.
“Does Mr. Castillo live there?”
The clerk blinked. “Don't know about that. Mr. West just said it was real important that you come right away.”
Lily put her hand on his arm. “Go ahead, Artemus. I’ll be fine. Especially if the gentleman can provide me with a hot bath.”
“Oh, indeed, ma’am. Yes, indeed. Quicker than you can shake a stick. Come right along, and I’ll show you to your room.” He came around the counter, keys in hand, picking up the bags Artemus had put on the floor.
“As soon as I find out what’s going on, I’ll be back, and we can sample the dining room.” Artemus nodded toward the door at the far side of the lobby, which was labeled “restaurant.” “More than likely Jim and Jeremy will be ready for supper too.” He kissed her lips lightly.
Lily watched him exit, and through the open doors she saw him mount his horse and head in the direction from which they had come. The clerk was waiting, so she followed him up the stairs—on which the carpet was barely existent—and to the second floor hallway. He opened a door and stepped aside.
“Will this do, ma’am?”
It was not the Ritz, but appeared clean and the bed looked reasonably comfortable. “Just fine. Leave Mr. Gordon’s bag here. He can get it when he returns. Which is his room?”
“Right next door, ma’am. Right next door.” The clerk started for the door.
Lily thought it a little strange that he did not wait for a gratuity. “The bath?”
“I’ll come tell you when it’s ready. The bath room is down at the end of the hall. Won’t be long. Nice and hot.”
As the door closed, Lily turned, eyeing the bed. Laying down to rest her aching bones and muscles was a tempting idea. But if the bath was going to be ready soon, she needed to prepare for it, to have her soap and clean clothes on hand. So she opened the portmanteau and began to remove items. The ones she would need right away were placed on the bed, but some others she decided to put in a drawer of the battered bureau with its milky mirror, though she wished the room had a closet or at least a wardrobe where she could hang her skirt and blouse so they would not get rumpled.
Next best thing was to lay them flat in a drawer, and she was doing that, carefully spreading a shirtwaist out, when her fingers encountered something at the rear of the drawer. Pulling it out, Lily frowned deeply. How strange! What were the odds of finding a razor exactly like the one she had given Jim West on his last birthday in the drawer of a bureau of an empty room in a rundown hotel in Peacetown, Wyoming?
The razor was distinctive, hand tooled, made of the finest steel, the leather casing trimmed with etched silver. She had found one in a small shop in San Francisco, and knowing Jim’s birthday was approaching earlier this summer, had purchased it. He had been delighted with the razor. Artemus told her Jim raved about the keenness of the blade and insisted his partner try it. Artie had heartily agreed that it was the best shave he had ever given himself, so Lily planned to look for a similar one for him on her next trip to the California city.
Shaking her head, Lily placed the razor on top of the bureau. If Jim had his razor with him, they could compare the two before handing this one over to the clerk. A previous guest must have left it, and considering the apparent lack of guests here, discerning which one had this room last should not be difficult.
Her unpacking finished, Lily put her bag on the floor and Artemus’s saddlebags on the bureau, next to the razor. She sat down on the bed to await the call that the bath was ready. After a minute or so the temptation was too strong, and she laid down. A few moments later, Lily Fortune opened her eyes into the dimness of the room.
Momentarily confused, she sat up, looking around. Why is it so dark? Oh, goodness! I fell asleep! How long…? She reached for the lapel watch she had placed on the bedside stand and squinted at it in the gloom. Almost seven! I slept for nearly three hours. Why didn’t I hear the knock on the door when the clerk came to tell me the bath was ready?
Sliding off the bed, Lily went to the window, which overlooked the street. The late summer twilight shadowed everything but she could not see any person moving. Nor a light in any window, including the mercantile across the way. Picking up the room key, she went out the door, further surprised to find that the wall sconces in the corridor had not been lit.
She made her way to the stairs in the near darkness, with the only faint light coming through the window at the far end of the hall, and descended slowly. No lamps illuminated the lobby either. The front door stood open, as it had earlier, but the clerk was not behind the counter. She went to that counter to ring the bell there. After a few moments, she rang it again. The tones seem to die in the utter silence.
Finally, Lily moved around the counter and knocked on the door behind it. Receiving no response, she opened it to find a bare room, no furnishings whatsoever, not even a carpet on the wooden floor. Baffled, she then crossed to the restaurant door. Like the lobby, it was dark and empty. All the tables were bare, and some had chairs upturned on them. Even in the murk she could see dust covering some of the furnishings in this room.
What in the world?
Going to the front door, Lily stepped out onto the hotel’s porch. The entire town was dark. Across the way, the door of the mercantile stood open, but no lights emanated from inside, nor from the windows upstairs. As she gazed around, she realized the only light visible was emanating from a window of the Castillo house, on the rise above town. A second floor window, she surmised, because the roofs of the town’s buildings covered her view of the lower level of the house.
Abruptly Lily realized that her pinto was no longer tied to the hitching rack. Of course, Artemus had ridden his horse to keep the appointment with his fellow agents. She frowned. That was nearly three hours ago. Why were they not back at the hotel by now? Where was the clerk? Where was everyone?
An alley lay between the hotel and the building next. Lily hurried down that alley, to the rear of the hotel, where she found a building that might have once been a stable, but which was half fallen down. No horses were in sight.
What is going on here?
That thought swirled through Lily Fortune’s brain as she slowly returned to the street, and reentered the hotel. Once again she checked the restaurant, going into the kitchen, which obviously had not been used in a very long time, and then back out to the hotel lobby, calling aloud, “Anyone here?” The situation was surreal… unreal. Too much like one of the plays in which she performed. Or like the town of Paradox.
Artemus and Jim had told her the story of their weird encounter with a vengeance-seeking man who arranged for Jim, and then Artie, to be transported to the town of Paradox, a town not on any maps, and without human habitation… at least none who wished to be seen. In the end, Emmett Stark had come very close to accomplishing his cruel goal of having one agent kill the other, aware of the anguish that the survivor would endure.
Unlike that eerie desert town, Peacetown had appeared to have inhabitants. She had seen them earlier, indeed, talked to one, the clerk. But where were they? Back on the hotel’s front porch, Lily stared up at the beacon of light in the window of the Castillo house. She knew she had no choice. Darkness was falling, and thus far no moon was appearing. Obviously someone was in that house, hopefully Artemus, Jim, and Jeremy among them. She needed to get there before full dark.
Thankful that she had not changed from her comfortable riding garb and boots, Lily set off, walking down the board sidewalk passed the closed and darkened buildings, fighting off a sense that despite the town seemed deserted, she was actually not alone and eyes were on her. Just like the feeling Jim had described he had experienced in Paradox. This made no sense. Where had everyone gone? Above all, where were Artemus, Jim, and Jeremy?
Halfway up the sloping lane that led to the large house, Lily realized that at this moment she was more puzzled than frightened. Vaguely she wondered if her fiancé was playing some sort of game, a trick, but brushed that aside. Artie could be a jokester, but nothing like this. He could never have planned such an elaborate ruse in such a short time, and presumably he had not known he would be coming to Wyoming before a few days ago.
Nearing the large structure, she could see more lights through the first floor windows, and on the porch. Welcoming lights. Perhaps, for some reason, the entire town had gathered here. Most assuredly, the population of the town was small. Maybe…
Lily forced herself to stop speculating. She would know the answers in a few moments. Because she had walked up the ascending road swiftly, by the time she reached the porch she was breathing heavily, and aware that she was also perspiring in the warm evening. So she paused, took a few deep breaths, then used a handkerchief to dab away the moisture from her forehead and cheeks.
She went up the stairs to the door, which was large and heavy-looking with an iron knocker in the shape of a horse’s head. Close-up, the perception of the poor condition of the house was confirmed. Paint was badly needed, and a couple of the boards on the porch should be replaced before someone stepped through them. Shabby genteel was the thought that came to mind as she lifted the knocker and let it drop twice.
The swiftness with which the door opened caused Lily to wonder if her approach had not been observed. A rather short, portly man gazed at her with mild interest, not appearing surprised at all. “May I help you, ma’am?” He was attired in a business suit that did not resemble a butler’s livery.
“I hope so,” she smiled. “I’m afraid I’m somewhat lost. I wonder if I could speak to the owner of this house?”
He bowed slightly, stepping back as an invitation to enter. Lily moved by him, not at all surprised to find that the interior was as tattered as the outside. Like the hotel, the carpet was worn and faded; wallpaper, also faded, was torn in some areas. A couple of darker spots on the wall indicated that pictures had once hung there. Sold for funds? A scarred but obviously very fine grandfather clock stood against the wall, beginning to chime the hour of eight. Shabby genteel, indeed.
The chubby man led her to a room halfway down the hallway toward a curving staircase, pushing open a sliding door and again stepping aside, allowing her to enter. Lily found herself in a small parlor that might have once been exquisite, but again was threadbare. A woman rose from a chair near a fireplace.
“Please excuse me for intruding,” Lily said quickly. “I’m looking for Mr. Gordon and his friends.”
The woman was middle aged, tall and on the thin side, faded red hair that contained streaks of gray was twisted in a thick knot atop her head. She might once have been quite attractive, but time—or something—had roughened her skin, hardened her features. Her dress was plain, a faded gray, that either had been made for a larger woman or else this one had lost weight. The dress hung loosely on her frame.
“Mr. Gordon? I don’t believe I know the name.” Her voice contained a certain amount of culture in the tone. The expression on the woman’s face was pleasant.
Lily was momentarily stunned. “But he… they… is this the Castillo house?”
“Castillo? No. My name is Agatha Love. My father, Augustus Love, built this house… founded Peacetown.”
“I don’t understand. I just don’t understand. This is all so confusing!”
Miss Love reached out a hand, touching Lily’s arm. “Please sit down. You look as though you feel faint.”
“No…” Lily was going to argue that she was not having a case of vapors, but decided a chair would be very welcome right now. She sat down on the nearest, a cushioned settee. Miss Love went to the doorway and spoke to someone.
“Harvey will bring tea. I’m sure it will help. May I ask your name?”
“Lily Fortune. I rode into town this afternoon with my fiancé…”
“Lily Fortune? The actress? Oh, I should have recognized you from pictures in the newspaper. You are quite a beautiful lady!” Agatha Love returned to her seat by the fireplace. “Do forgive me for interrupting. We don’t get many celebrities in Peacetown.”
“My fiancé, Artemus Gordon, and I came here to meet two friends of his.” Lily decided not to mention the agents’ official status, at least not right away. “We went to the hotel and were told by the clerk that Mr. West and Mr. Pike were at the ‘Castillo house.’ This home was pointed out to us. I went to my room to await a bath, and Mr. Gordon went to meet his friends… at the Castillo house. I fell asleep on the bed, and when I awakened, the hotel was deserted. In fact, the entire town appears deserted.”
Sadness washed over Agatha Love’s face. “I’m afraid it is deserted. No one lives there. The hotel has not been in operation for over a year.” She leaned forward slightly, peering at Lily. “Are you sure you didn’t dream it all?”
“I’m positive. My belongings are still in the hotel. The bed is made up, the room is clean… Miss Love, are you certain…?”
“I have lived here virtually all my life, Miss Fortune, except for some time spent in school. I watched the town grow, and then die. I am the only resident now. Myself, my two servants. I can’t imagine what you think you saw in town.”
“Do you… is the name Romeo Castillo familiar?”
Miss Love shook her head slowly. “I’m afraid not. Miss Fortune, I hate to ask this, but are you sure you’re well? You appear exhausted.”
Lily pressed her hand over her eyes for a moment, removing it when she heard the servant Harvey enter. He was pushing a cart on which a silver tea service rested, along with some small sandwiches. “We thought the lady might be hungry, Miss Love.”
“How thoughtful, Harvey. Thank Mildred. And ask her to prepare a guest room.”
“Oh, I can’t stay!” Lily protested.
“You must. You cannot go back to that hotel alone in the dark. Stay the night. I can provide you with nightclothes and anything else you need. In the morning, we can go back into town and look around.”
Reluctantly, Lily saw the wisdom in the suggestion. She was tired, and hungry. If Artie and the others went back to the hotel, surely they would see what she had seen, the lights from this house. But why did the clerk tell Artemus to go to the Castillo house and indicate that this house would be his destination? Was there another house…? No. They would have seen it. She sipped from the bracing cup of tea that Agatha had poured and handed to her. Yes, remaining here was the right thing to do. Artemus would find her.
W*W*W*W*W
“Oh my God! My head!”
“Relax, Artie.” The familiar voice, coming from—it seemed—a great distance, spoke soothingly. “It’ll go away in a while.”
Artemus Gordon forced his eyes open against the worst headache he was sure he had ever experienced. He was already aware that when he tried to move a hand to press against his throbbing forehead, the hand could not seem to reach his head. Something was holding it back. The light was very dim, something he was thankful for at the moment. Bright illumination might have been the death of him.
At first everything was blurred and fuzzy. He saw some darker shapes in the faint light, but could not immediately make out what they were. Then, as his vision cleared, he first observed, directly across from him, the unshaven face of his partner, James West. Jim was seated, leaning against a stone wall, his hands raised slightly on either side of him. His wrists, Artie realized, were secured in iron cuffs attached to chains fastened into the stone.
Artemus turned his head, almost too swiftly, and had to close his eyes a moment to fight off the vertigo and nausea, not to mention the suddenly increased throbbing inside his skull. Taking a breath, he opened his eyes to note that his own wrists, as well, were secured in chains that were too short to allow him to reach his head. Off to the left, he saw the equally unshaven face of Jeremy Pike, also seated against the wall, also manacled.
“What… what’s going on?”
“Old friend of yours worked a damn clever ruse,” Pike said soberly. “Now she’s got the both of you, and me to boot.”
“She? What… who?” Artemus shifted his gaze to Jim.
“Emma Valentine.”
“She’s dead!”
Some months ago, the agents had received word that murderess Emma Valentine had escaped from the women’s prison to which she had been sentenced for life. They had joined the search for the dangerous female, only to learn that a woman of her description had boarded a steamer in Galveston, heading for Brazil. Not much longer after that, news came that the steamer had been sunk due to, apparently, a boiler explosion. No one survived.
“Well, that’s the story she manufactured,” Jim responded. “And did it well. But she’s upstairs in the big old house, and we’re down here. I don’t suppose you brought any toys with you.”
For the first time Artemus realized that he was in his shirtsleeves, jacket removed. The other two men were clad similarly. “I had some of our favorite kind of buttons on my jacket. Even if I was still wearing it, I doubt I could reach them.”
“We figured that’s the reason for the short chains,” Jeremy offered. “Her men searched us pretty thoroughly, but Emma isn’t taking any chances.”
“Artie,” Jim said, “how did she get you?”
“Well, she didn’t. I didn’t see Emma Valentine. I came to the house because of the message—which I presume you never sent—to meet you at the Castillo house. He… oh my God! Lily!”
“What?” Both Pike and West spoke in unison.
Artie leaned his head back against the cool stone, staring at the ceiling of the small room. The ceiling was, of course, the floor of the house above, the aged wooden rafters visible. The light came from two small lanterns hanging in upper corners of the room. A small dirty window was high above Jim’s head, revealing that darkness had fallen. Artie took a breath, then looked at his fellow agents and captives.
“Lily came with me. She… we wanted some more time together before we both have to return to our jobs. I figured… I knew it was a routine assignment. I left her at the hotel!”
“She’ll be all right,” Jim assured him firmly. “Don’t forget, Emma is pretty big on women’s independence. And Lily is about as independent as they come. Emma will like her.”
“Yeah.” Artie swallowed hard, trying to convince himself of his partner’s assurances. “You two… how did you…?”
“Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly.” Jeremy’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“I don't know who this Romeo Castillo is, or was,” Jim said, “but obviously the colonel checked him out before sending us the orders to come meet him. Like you, we went to the hotel, got rooms, and then almost right away got a message to meet Castillo here. We rode up, the door was opened by a short man who obviously liked his food.”
Artemus nodded. “I met the friendly fellow myself.”
Jeremy took up the story. “We were invited to sit down in the parlor, told that Mr. Castillo was taking his usual afternoon nap and would join us shortly. The butler, or whoever he was, brought us ‘refreshments.’ Ham sandwiches and excellent whiskey. I don’t remember much after that until we woke up down here.”
“Familiar story,” Artemus said. “Same man met me, took me into the parlor and served whiskey. Said he’d tell you two and Mr. Castillo that I was there. No sandwich. I think I took about two swallows. Don’t know what it was, but it was potent.” He looked at the two other men. “You’ve seen Emma Valentine?”
“Oh yeah,” Jim responded, shifting his position slightly. His fingers felt numb after the hours of being suspended in the manacles, and the stone floor was damnably hard. “She comes down to tell us what she has in store for us.”
“And what’s that? Or don’t I want to know?”
“Oh, it’s very charming,” Jeremy replied, “just like the lady. She’s going to drown us. At least that’s the latest story.”
“Drown… how? I don’t recall a river or lake in this area. In her bathtub?”
“She claims she has a method to flood this cell with water. Very, very slowly. Seems she was just waiting for you.” Jim’s words were light, but his expression was hard. They had been imprisoned here for at least two days, and had not begun to come up with a method of escape.
Twice a day, one man at a time was unshackled, taken out of the room to attend to personal needs, and to be fed. The entire time, four guns were trained on them, plus handcuffs were fastened to their wrists, more shackles to their ankles. Both men had futilely hoped that somehow Artemus would not be lured into the trap, all the while knowing that Gordon had no more reason to be suspicious than they had been.
Artie looked around the cell. The walls and floor appeared to be solid rock. Openings where water might be introduced were not visible. The door was heavy wood, with no window in it. “Do you think she’s serious?” he asked.
Jim shook his head. “You know what she was like when we captured her in Kansas City. Insane, and full of insane plans. I don’t think she’s changed. Whether she actually intends to drown us, who knows? Her first story was that we would be hanged. Besides, what difference does the method make?” He could not remember feeling so helpless, so powerless, in a long, long while.
“Jer, you had nothing to do with that case. Why does she want to harm you?”
Pike smiled ruefully. “Guilt by association, it seems.”
“I tried to talk Emma into letting Jeremy go,” Jim said. “No luck.” He gazed somberly at his partner secured on the opposite wall. “Artie, it seems that our only hope at this time is Lily.”
So wide shall be the garden-walk,
The garden-seat so very wide,
You needs must think—if you should think—
The lily maid had died.
Elaine — Edna St. Vincent Millay
W*W*W*W*W
The garden-seat so very wide,
You needs must think—if you should think—
The lily maid had died.
Elaine — Edna St. Vincent Millay
W*W*W*W*W
“You’ve been very kind, Miss Love,” Lily Fortune smiled across the breakfast table. The smile was weak, for she had slept heavily, and her head ached slightly. The coffee was helping ease the headache, but not the deep concern she was experiencing.
“Not at all. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I’ve had a guest, let alone a very famous guest. I wish I had had an opportunity to see you perform.”
“Perhaps someday,” Lily murmured.
“Yes. Perhaps. We’ll have a hearty breakfast—it’s always best to set out on a full stomach—and then we’ll stroll into town and see what in goodness name is going on there.”
“Thank you. I really cannot understand what has happened to Mr. Gordon and his friends. None of this makes any sense.” How many times had she said or thought that?
“I would continue to suggest that you had a vivid dream,” Miss Love said, then paused her words while the short, stout woman brought platters of eggs, ham, and potatoes to place before them. “Thank you, Mildred. Miss Fortune, this is my cook and housekeeper, Mildred, we are honored to have Miss Fortune, the famous actress, as our guest.”
“Oh yes, ma’am,” Mildred beamed. “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Fortune.”
“How do you do,” Lily returned, trying not to appear dismayed at the amount of food on her plate. While she was hungry, she was not that hungry. Hard to believe that with her slim shape Miss Love ate like this all the time. Was she trying to impress her guest?
“Now, as I was saying,” Agatha Love picked up her fork as the housekeeper departed, “I have thought a great deal about this and I no longer believe you merely dreamed it. That would make no sense. I mean, obviously you arrived in Peacetown by some manner. I certainly cannot understand what became of your fiancé. Er… he is a reliable man, isn’t he?”
“Oh, very!” Should I tell her Artemus is a government agent? Not yet. “Mr. Gordon would never have abandoned me like this. Something… something has happened.”
“Let us finish our breakfast,” Agatha Love spoke encouragingly, “then we’ll go into town and see if we can solve this mystery. Perhaps Mr. Gordon and his friends are now at the hotel.”
Oh, I hope so! Lily smiled slightly to show her appreciation for the support, but deep within her soul, she knew that Artemus was not waiting at the hotel. He would not have settled in for the night without speaking to her, and upon finding she was absent, he would have launched a search. Jim and Jeremy, if they were with him, would have joined. Eventually, they would have come to this house.
“It must be wonderful to have an independent career,” Agatha said then. “I must admit I’m somewhat surprised that you are going to throw it all away for marriage.”
“I’m not throwing it away.” Lily picked up her cup of coffee and sipped it. “Artemus and I have discussed it thoroughly. He is going to continue his career, and I shall continue mine, so long as I wish.”
Miss Love seemed startled by this revelation. “What about children?”
“There will be children,” Lily smiled. “And when they come, I will consider leaving the stage. But even that is not definite. A great deal depends on my feelings at the time. Mr. Gordon agrees that it is my decision to make.”
The other woman sat back. “My goodness. A man in a million. A billion!”
Now Lily had to laugh. “He wasn’t always that way, I must honestly admit. When we first discussed marriage, his idea was that I would leave the stage and remain at home, waiting for him as a dutiful wife—in his opinion—should do. When I made it clear that was not going to be the case, he began to rethink his priorities. Artemus is a stubborn man at times, but an intelligent one. He decided he loved me enough to yield.”
A thoughtful expression covered Agatha Love’s countenance. “Indeed. Indeed. But what about his friend? Did you say his name was… West?”
“Yes. James West. I think Jim is a bit more traditional in his thoughts, but again, he is not stupid. If and when he would meet the love of his life, and if, like me, she had a career, I’m pretty sure Jim would not be foolish enough to lose her because of his mulishness.” What would Jim have done if Cinnia had lived and wanted to remain with the Pinkerton Agency? We’ll never know.
“James West,” Agatha said slowly. “Is he an actor? I’m certain I’ve seen his name in the newspaper. Even a picture. Fine-looking man. Very fine.”
Lily smiled. “Many women agree with you, Miss Love. Jim is very handsome. Of course, I think my fiancé is very handsome as well.”
“Of course!” Agatha Love cried suddenly. “I’ve seen both their pictures. They are detectives of some sort, aren’t they? Quite well known. I don't know why this didn’t occur to me before. James West and Artemus Gordon… they work for the government?”
“Yes,” Lily admitted. No real harm in telling this lonely, isolated woman the truth. What kind of life did she have here in this deserted town? No wonder she was so anxious to have me remain the night. She must rarely have anyone to even talk to besides her servants! “Artemus and Jim are Secret Service agents. So is their friend, Jeremy Pike, who was with Jim. They came to Peacetown to meet this Romeo Castillo I mentioned. He was supposed to have some important information for them.”
“Oh, goodness me! How exciting!” Agatha pressed a hand against her thin bosom. “Secret Service agents in Peacetown! My!”
“And you are certain you never heard of this Mr. Castillo?”
“Oh yes. The name is completely unknown to me. You must realize that I would certainly know if anyone else was living in the town. Harvey makes periodic checks through the town to ensure no vagrants have moved in. The fire danger is very real.”
“I can understand that. What happened to the town? Obviously it was thriving at one time.”
The older woman sighed dramatically. “It was a lovely town. We had over two hundred residents at the peak. But then the mines gave out.”
“Mines?” Lily tried to remember if they had seen any evidence of mining in the area on the ride to Peacetown. “Gold?” She could not recall such signs, and surely Artemus would have commented if they had. He had been pointing out landmarks, natural and otherwise, during the entire ride. Where were these mines?
“No. Silver. The mines are about ten miles from here, in the hills. They were not a big bonanza, but my father and a number of men made a tidy fortune from them. Papa tried to convince the other miners to invest in property, perhaps go into ranching, but they were not interested. With the miners gone, the businesses in town simply… faded away.”
“How sad. But you remained?”
“Oh yes. I wouldn’t desert Papa. Never. He died ten years ago.”
Ten years ago Agatha Love would have been past her prime, but still not ancient. Lily Fortune knew bone structure, and she imagined that before age and, apparently, weather had hardened Agatha’s complexion, she would have been a very attractive lady, especially if the now faded hair was the brilliant shade Lily imagined it could have been. Had she forsaken an opportunity to marry due to her devotion to her father?
Harvey brought a carriage around to the front of the house. Like everything else, it was shabby and faded, though the two horses drawing it appeared in fine condition. Lily was glad she did not have to contemplate the long walk uphill from town again. She was also glad that Agatha had not insisted she eat more of her breakfast. Miss Love herself had devoured all that was placed before her. Again Lily wondered if the lavish breakfast had been set to impress a guest, and perhaps Agatha was unaccustomed to eating so well, thus did not want to waste it. If that was the case, Lily experienced a pang of guilt over how much she had left on her plate!
The sun was bright and warm, but Miss Love did not suggest that the bonnet on the carriage be raised. Lily did not mention it, fearful that perhaps that mechanism was damaged, and to bring it up would embarrass her hostess. She was already extremely grateful that Miss Love had so willingly taken her in. Others in the maiden lady’s situation might have been suspicious and fearful of a stranger, female or male.
Harvey halted the buggy in front of the hotel, then hopped down from his seat to assist the two ladies to the porch. The hotel door was still standing open; so was the door of the mercantile across the street. Unlike when Lily and Artemus had entered the town, though, not a soul was to be seen.
“The hotel was once a thriving establishment,” Agatha sighed as they entered. “And quite lovely too. I hate to see it like this.” She halted in the lobby, looking around.
“Why don’t you wait on the porch,” Lily suggested. “I can look around.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think of it! You say a clerk was here yesterday?” Miss Love walked toward the counter. “Goodness, look at the dust!”
Lily moved up alongside the taller woman and stared at the counter. It was covered in a layer of fine dust that Agatha ran a finger through, distaste on her face. Dust that had not been there yesterday, Lily was certain. She almost remarked on that, but remained silent. She knew that Agatha Love still harbored doubts about her story, despite what she said earlier.
Instead, Lily went to the door behind the counter and opened it. As yesterday, it was bare and vacant. Except…. She stared down at the bare wood floor. She had assumed the room had been used as an office at one time. Lily had to admit she had not noticed the dust on the floor in here, but she was fairly certain she would have spotted that boot print if it had been there yesterday, even in the gloom that had pervaded in the late evening. The print of a rather large foot. Not a woman’s print, and of a greater size than Harvey wore, she was certain.
“Is anything wrong, dear?” Agatha inquired as Lily stepped out into the lobby again.
“No, nothing,” Lily murmured, wondering at her sudden decision to not reveal everything. Something very strange was going on here. She had talked to Artemus and Jim often enough about their cases to know that taking everything at face value was not wise, especially when it came to people. The two agents had told her of persons who had appeared to be perfectly respectable, incapable of doing harm, who turned out to be vicious criminals. Even some females.
“I want to look upstairs again,” Lily said, heading for the staircase. At first she thought the other woman was not going to follow, but halfway up the stairs, Lily glanced around and Agatha Love was ascending behind her.
She still had the door key but it was not necessary. The door to the room she had occupied was standing open. Thankfully her portmanteau was still on the floor beside the bed, and her possessions were in the bureau drawers. But Artemus’s saddlebags were not! The razor, the one so much like the one she had given Jim for his birthday, was no longer resting on top of the bureau.
“My dear,” Agatha said from the doorway in that cultured tone, “you look ghastly, as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
Lily turned, smiling wanly. “I’m not sure what I expected, but I’m pretty certain I did not believe my possessions would still be here.”
“Well, it certainly seems to prove you did spend some time here, I’ll grant you that!” Agatha Love chuckled dryly.
Lily decided not to comment on the remark. “I’d like to walk around town a little, if you don’t mind. I don’t know what I will find—if anything—but I feel… Artemus has to be here somewhere.” But where? And in what condition? Lily did not want to really think about the possibilities. She only wanted to solve the mystery right now.
W*W*W*W*W