EIGHTEEN
I followed Drake down the slick road coated in sheets of ice. We stopped at the door of a large five-story townhome. Rosebushes, thorny and barren from the harsh December chill, lined the front of the tall stoop. My apprehension about the unannounced meeting faded momentarily as I looked up at the stately building. Its creamy white exterior reflected the last of the glowing sunset. The home was an homage to Neoclassical architecture. I remembered reading about said architecture at the library and it made me smile as I observed the building in living color, and unworn by time. Large, tall windows denoted each level and delicate trim framed each of them. The front door looked ominous: painted black with a cathedral arch nearly ten feet high. Light came from behind a window on the second floor and I wondered what Drake’s brother was like.
I naturally hoped Drake’s mysterious brother could provide us with a few more pieces to the puzzle but I couldn’t shake my dread. Approaching the house, I was repelled to know that the person who lived there had done what he did. Never mind the added threat of another violent brotherly brawl! What if Lucien just refused to help us? Even more plausible, what if he had no idea of where to find George Griscom?
My optimism returned when I remembered Dorothy on her walk down Fifth Avenue. She seemed to know everyone she met, and seeing how everyone recognized the name Montague, the New York of the past felt almost quaint. Even so, Drake’s assurances and my own feeble attempts at pacification did little to soothe my nerves. Doubt plagued me.
As Drake rapped loudly on the large, black door, I had half a mind to tell him to give it up, and we’d just have to find another way. We could go back to the hospital and devise a way to talk to Dorothy, if she was even still alive at this point. At the thought of seeing the smarmy doctor again, however, I shivered and it had nothing to do with the dropping temperature.
Whatever we did, I felt certain that coming here was a huge mistake. Not just because I thought Lucien wouldn’t help us, but because if this meeting were anything like the last one Drake had with him, we were potentially jumping out of the frying pan and into the flames. In other words, we could be in danger. More than anything else, I didn’t want to see Drake get hurt.
I turned to Drake to express my doubts. But before I could open my mouth to say anything, a tall man in a pinstripe suit opened the door. I could instantly see the resemblance. Lucien was clearly older and taller than Drake but he sorely lacked his brother’s toned physique. The buttons on his coat strained to contain the width of his distended stomach. He had a thick, brown mustache that was waxed on the ends and heavy bags beneath his eyes. It astonished me when I saw how remarkably similar Lucien’s eyes were to the soft brown eyes of the man standing beside me. If Lucien were shocked at seeing his missing brother after eighteen years, he didn’t show it. His face remained expressionless. His eyes flicked to me and then back to his brother.
“I suppose I should invite you in.”
I thought it was an unusual opening line. But coming after a drunken brawl and a string of formal letters, Drake seemed nonplussed. We entered the large home and I was immediately taken aback by its opulence. We followed Lucien through an oversized entrance hall, going past a reception room and into a huge living room. A lit fireplace crackled and took up most of the far wall while the rest of the room was elegantly appointed with antiques and other custom pieces of stately furniture. A desk that was remarkably similar to my recently acquired replica Wooton occupied the corner.
Light from the flickering fire cast eerie shadows on all the walls. The room was painted a pale yellow and the intricate crown molding only enhanced its grandeur. The house was undeniably impressive. Its warmth and ambience were a welcome change from the frigid temperatures outside. My attention turned back to Lucien. He was a study in contrast: much icier than his striking domicile.
“When was the wedding?” he asked Drake. It took me a moment to realize he was referring to our wedding. Seeing my confused expression, Lucien smiled coyly at me. “You’ll find word travels fast in this town. And the Montague moniker makes news travel even faster.” He winked at me. Then he faced his brother.
“She’s a good looking woman,” he said as if I weren’t still standing in the room. “You did good, little brother.”
My eyes quickly landed on Drake. Drake’s face adopted a thoughtful expression as he regarded his brother. For a moment, I wondered if he’d heard.
“July,” said Drake without hesitation.
“Ah, then I suppose a congratulatory drink is in order.” My stomach knotted at the thought of alcohol; I was still recovering from the previous evening.
“No, actually, Lucien, we haven’t much time,” Drake said hurriedly. “I only came to ask for your help.”
“Well, in that case, we’ll definitely need a drink.” he said more seriously and without a touch of humor. I was well beyond confused by the exchange that I saw unfolding in front of me. Lucien, the beast of a man, wandered off and left Drake and me alone in the large, drafty room.
“Is this normal? Is he always like this?” I whispered to him.
“I do not know, ma minette,” he replied softly, draping his arm around me for comfort as I relaxed my body and pressed it into his. I nearly startled myself at the carelessness of my intimate response and shifted away from him awkwardly. He noticed and frowned at me so I gave him a weak, apologetic smile.
Lucien reentered the room with a glass decanter full of amber liquid and three tumblers. He looked at us and said nothing. Lucien merely raised an eyebrow before he sat down on a high-backed, red sofa and stared up at us expectantly. He gestured to the two chairs on the other side of the small, dark coffee table. We took our seats and the room descended into silence. I watched Lucien fill the three glasses before he relaxed into his chair, regarding us both for a long, protracted moment.
“So, what brings you to New York?” he asked. Drake and I left our glasses untouched on the table. Lucien took a hearty sip from his.
“We’re looking for someone,” Drake said simply.
“Ah, I see. Well, don’t let me waste any of your precious time catching up,” he said disdainfully. I stiffened slightly in my seat. Drake only chuckled in response and bent forward to retrieve his amber-colored glass from the table.
“Will you help us?” I asked, growing impatient and uncomfortable.
For the first time, Lucien seemed to see me. His familiar brown eyes rested on mine. My breath caught when I stared into the eyes I knew so well, so much like Drake’s, but these belonged to a stranger, a man I just met. Although the years were not generous to Lucien, and his face lacked the youthfulness of his brother, it was clear that handsome men ran in the family. Lucien’s beauty, however, was somewhat harder to see. The heavy, purple bags beneath his eyes were the only source of color on his pallid face. The man was clearly haunted by something, maybe what he’d done to Lola or maybe it was because he was still in love with her? Whatever demons plagued him, they had certainly taken their toll.
“You know I wouldn’t come here unless it was important,” said Drake. Lucien’s eyes didn’t leave mine.
“More important than abandoning your unconscious brother in a whore’s bedroom?”
“Oh,” I said without realizing it as I reached for my glass and downed the liquid in four burning gulps. Drake faced me with surprise before he turned to his brother and shook his head.
“That was years ago, Lucien.”
I was worried about what I was witnessing between the two of them. It seemed like I should have been more emphatic about my desire to leave when we still had a chance. Although a certain level of friction was naturally expected, given the situation, the calmness of Lucien’s delivery put me on edge.
Drake continued to shake his head while his brother downed his drink and poured another. He relaxed again in his seat and regarded us coolly.
“I was wondering if you would come here to pay me a visit,” Lucien started. “I heard you were seen at a bar last night talking to Miss Walsh and Mrs. Flynn.” My eyebrows rose in response to that. He continued, “Could that mean that you’ve finally outgrown your puerile obsession with Ms. Reilly? What did your new bride think of your former entertainers?”
Again, it took me a moment to realize he was referring to me. I frowned at his question. Drake remained quiet.
“I didn’t come here to discuss my wife and me,” Drake said finally.
“What did you come here to discuss then?”
“I came here because I thought you might be able to help me.” Drake took a deep breath. “And I hoped you would.”
Lucien glared at Drake for a long moment. I held my breath. Finally, his expression relaxed and he seemed curious.
“I can’t guarantee it,” he said, “but very little happens in this city without me knowing about it,” he replied boastfully. Considering his timely knowledge of our location last night, he must have been speaking the truth.
“I’m trying to find a man,” Drake said. “His name is Griscom. George Griscom.”
Lucien stared blankly before finally repeating the name “Griscom… Griscom…” over and over he said it again, like he was tasting the word with his tongue. His low voice trailed off. He stared at the ground and his eyes roamed from side-to-side in thought. “I know that name,” he said, evidently still trying to place it.
My shoulders, which were already nearly next to my ears with all the palpable tension in the room, rose even higher and I leaned forward in my chair.
“Not a George, though. No. It was… I know! Andrew! He was that young fellow who jumped to his death off a cruise deck. The news ate it up. Sad story, of course, but it only goes to prove that love can make us do the oddest things.” He winked at me and I shifted in my seat.
“I don’t think that’s the one. You’ve never heard of a Griscom around here then?” I asked, visibly deflated. “There’s a chance he could go by the name, Junior?”
Lucien was deep in thought again. He absentmindedly twirled the ends of his moustache. Finally, his eyes lit up.
“I’ve seen the family Griscom at events near the marina. The family certainly likes their yachts. I vaguely remember the old man mighta been called George, but I don’t know anything about a Junior.”
“Old man?” I asked, all hope draining rapidly.
“The man you’re looking for is old.”
“How old?” I asked. I had no right to judge Dorothy’s taste in men. I suppose I just assumed Alice’s father would be roughly the same age as Dorothy, twenty-five.
“I don’t know… Seventy? Eighty? I haven’t seen them around recently though.”
My eyebrows rose in surprise. If he were out impregnating twenty-five-year-old girls, he must have been pretty macho, but still! I had to refocus.
“You mean he’s not in New York?” I asked, disappointed. The doctor’s face came to mind. It was becoming clear we weren’t getting anywhere. We were wasting our precious time; we needed a new plan.
“No. Although I don’t know him well enough to say for sure.”
Suddenly, I started to remember snippets of my first conversation with Ada and Jill. Didn’t they mention George’s parents liked traveling? He stayed home because he was sick. George Griscom could have been Junior’s father. Things were starting to fall into place. I apologized internally to Dorothy for daring to imagine she’d entertain such an elderly, mature gentleman.
“We are on the right track,” I said to Drake, excitedly. “George is Junior’s father.”
Drake smiled at me in a way that said he was proud of me. His eyes were warm and his lips were so plump… I forced myself to look away from him and settled my eyes on his brother who was still watching me.
“Where do the Griscoms live?” I asked Lucien.
Lucien looked annoyed, “I’m not a directory, mon chaton.” It threw me when he used Drake’s term of endearment for me and it sounded weird coming from another man’s mouth. Drake frowned but remained silent.
I looked at Drake. At least we had a good place to start, the marina. Hopefully, they’d have a record of his address there.
Lucien didn’t skip a beat; “Is that all I can assist you with this evening? Any letters you want me to send? Future meetings you’d like me to arrange?” His words came out with cruel sarcasm. A malicious smile tugged at his lips, and in that moment, he looked nothing like Drake.
With the main mystery solved, I couldn’t wait to get out of Lucien’s house. Even though he helped us, the entire exchange was cold and tense. My chest hurt from watching all the glares the two brothers exchanged. The fire crackled, but its heat couldn’t compete with the extreme chill that settled over the room. Lucien lifted Drake’s untouched drink. It was time to go.
“Thank you for all your help, Lucien,” I said to him as I stood up. “It was nice to meet you.”
Lucien ignored me, fixing his eyes on Drake. “How long are you in New York?” he asked with a sneer.
“Not long, maybe another day at most.”
“What do you want with the old man anyway? He doesn’t seem like your type.” For a moment, my head flashed to Drake’s insistence that I shield him from “homosexual encounters.” I almost laughed but managed to hide my inappropriate amusement behind a cough. Neither man seemed to notice.
“He knows someone we need to talk to,” said Drake vaguely, also rising and standing. Lucien shrugged.
“Does this mean I’m going to see more of you?” Lucien asked apathetically.
“I wouldn’t say that,” answered Drake. It wasn’t quite the family feel-good moment I hoped to witness but at least, no one threw any punches. If we could leave the house unscathed, I’d call our mission a success.
Lucien nodded slowly and walked back to the entrance hall where he opened the door.
“Thanks for dropping by,” he said without any sincerity.
Drake stepped out on the stoop and looked at his brother one final time. “Nothing has changed with Lola and my threat still stands,” he said ominously. He fixed Lucien with a hard stare and my heart lurched in my chest. I realized with sadness that it wasn’t because of the threat to his brother but the effect it had on me. He still felt so protective over Lola, the candor of his words hit me like a sucker punch to the stomach. Even after all these years, he was still protecting her. My own jealousy made me ashamed.
The black door closed in response and we stood facing each other in silence on the stoop.
“Well, that was charming,” I said trying to ease the tension.
Drake ignored me and his eyebrows knitted together. He placed his hands in his pockets and started down the steps. I had a feeling his response had little to do with his brother and more to do with his undying love for Lola. I trailed desperately after him, and cursed my stupidity for feeling so hurt.