The carousel keeper stirred. His eyes blinked, passed over Maud, and came back to her. A short, interrogatory grunt came from him. “What the —?” He shifted sideways and propped up his head on his elbow. Drowsy irritation gave way to a look of concern. “God Almighty! What happened to you?”
Maud took in her breath to tell a lie and exhaled before she could think of one. She went straight to the point. “Do you know where Mrs. Lambert is?”
“Mrs. Lambert?” Rory sat up and rubbed the palm of his hand over his chin. He yawned. “She thought there was something the matter with you. I guess she was right.”
Maud repeated, “Do you know where —”
Rory interrupted her. “What happened to you?”
Maud sighed. “The house was on fire, and I had to crawl through a hole.”
“On fire.” Rory took this in. “I heard the bells last night.” He rubbed his eyes. “Anybody hurt?”
“I don’t think so,” Maud said patiently, “but I have to find Mrs. Lambert. Do you know where she lives?”
“Duckling,” Rory said pathetically, “I haven’t had so much as a drop of coffee.” He fumbled in his trouser pocket. “Do you know Vicelli’s?”
Maud shook her head.
“You go out the side gate” — Rory pointed — “few steps to the left, and across the boardwalk, that’s Vicelli’s. You tell them Rory Hugelick wants a sausage roll and a cuppa coffee.” He handed her a quarter. “Bring back the change. After I’ve had my coffee, we’ll talk about Mrs. Lambert. All right?”
“All right,” conceded Maud.
She returned shortly afterward, balancing a tin plate on top of a mug of coffee. Rory Hugelick had tidied away his blanket roll and was polishing the brass on the carousel. When he saw Maud, he sat down and patted the platform next to him. “Good girl.” He took a draft of coffee. “First things first. You got some nasty cuts and scrapes. You put anything on ’em?”
“No.”
“You been in the ocean this morning?”
“Yes.” Maud felt her face grow hot. “I had to wash off.”
“That’ll do, then.” He took a bite of the sausage roll. “There’s nothing so good for cuts as salt water. My mother used to say —” He broke off as Maud’s stomach emitted a growl. “You had anything to eat th’s’morning?”
Maud considered lying. “No,” she said humbly.
“Poor little devil.” Rory broke his sausage roll in half. “You eat that and you’ll feel better. And here — take a sip of coffee.”
Maud accepted gratefully. The taste of the coffee was bitter beyond anything she had imagined, but after grimacing through the first mouthful, she wanted another. The sausage roll reeked of garlic. Maud wrinkled her nose at it, nibbled, and decided it wasn’t so bad after all.
“Now, what’s this about Mrs. Lambert?”
“She’s got Muffet.” Rory looked bewildered. “I don’t mean she stole her or anything. Muffet’s the name of our hired girl. When the house was on fire, Muffet tried to get back in the house, but she couldn’t — and she fainted, I guess, and Mrs. Lambert took her away in the carriage. So I need to see her.”
“Wait a minute.” Rory held up a hand to stop her. “Where’s the rest of your folks?”
“They’re with Mrs. Lambert. The house was on fire so they went home with her, too.”
“Why didn’t you go with them?”
“They didn’t see me.” Maud averted her face. “They didn’t know I got out.”
“You mean to say there’s people who think you died in that fire?”
“I guess so. I don’t know.”
Rory set down his coffee mug. “Look here, duckling. You’re not telling me the whole truth. It’s not that I don’t believe you — I can smell the smoke on you — but there’s something else going on, something damned queer from the sound of it, and I want to know what it is.”
Maud said slowly, “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time,” countered Rory Hugelick. “The park don’t open till ten. Come on, duckling, out with it. Otherwise, you can forget about me telling you where Mrs. Lambert lives, because I’m not doing it.”
Maud took another bite of sausage roll. She chewed meticulously, trying to buy time. Rory would not be easy to fool. She fished for a lie that would account for her present situation and found that her mind was blank. She was all lied out. She couldn’t seem to get interested in keeping any more secrets or protecting the Hawthorne sisters. The night before, she had learned too much. She had cried too hard.
So she surrendered the truth. Her account was a jumble, made worse by Rory’s frequent interruptions, but eventually she got through most of the story. She told about her adoption and the mortgage that needed to be paid, and the séances and the life she had been leading as a secret child. The look on Rory’s face told her just how bizarre her story was. It had been some time since she considered her life surprising. She had grown used to the peculiarities of the Hawthorne sisters.
“So,” Rory summarized, when she had explained most of it, “you’ve been living like a prisoner with three old ladies that cheat grief-stricken people out of their money. They could go to jail for what they’re doing, do you know that? And — in the middle of trying to swindle one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever met — their house caught fire, and not one of them lifted a finger to save you. Ah, now, don’t cry, duckling!”
“I’m not crying,” Maud said, clenching her teeth and blinking rapidly.
“I wouldn’t blame you if you were,” Rory said back. “I’m just saying. You got out of the fire last night, you slept rough, and now you want to go find this hired girl, because she’s the only one of those hell-hags that might care whether you’re dead or alive.”
Maud’s temper flared. “Muffet’s not a hell-hag,” she threw back at him. “Muffet went into the fire for me. Hyacinth and Judith are bad, and so’m I, but Muffet’s innocent.”
Rory eyed her narrowly. Then he held out his freckled paw, inviting her to put her hand in his. “Then I guess we’d better go find Muffet.” He helped Maud to her feet.
“Then you know where she is?”
“I don’t know for sure.” Rory squinted at the sky. “But Mrs. Lambert’s a rich woman — she’s probably at the Hotel Elysium. Either the Elysium or the Hotel Regina — they’re the two best in town. But you’ve got to promise me something.” He caught her other hand and gave her a little shake. “No more pretending to be Caroline. No more lying to Mrs. Lambert.”
Maud squirmed to avoid his eyes. “We made her happy.”
“You lied to her so you could cheat her out of her money,” Rory said roughly. “That ain’t happy. Listen to me, duckling. I knew Ellie Lambert when her daughter was alive. She and her daughter were regulars — they’d come by just about every day.” He pointed to the hippocampus, with its acid-green body and curlicue tail. “That sea monster — that was Caroline’s favorite. She was a nice little girl and she died. As for her mother, she was never the same since. She’s too rich for her own good — and tenderhearted — but that doesn’t mean people have a right to take advantage of her. Even Caroline —” He stopped. “The point is, I’m not going to let you cheat her anymore. If you don’t tell her the truth, I will. You understand?”
“Yes,” conceded Maud.
“That’s a good girl.” Rory laid a hand on the back of her head. His touch was surprisingly delicate. “Come on, then. We’ll go find Mrs. Lambert.”
The lobby of the Hotel Elysium was more magnificent than any place Maud had ever seen. She was overwhelmed by its splendor. She felt that her naked and dirty feet were an insult to its polished floors. She clung tightly to Rory’s hand, expecting at any moment to be swept up and tossed out the door like a stray cat. But Rory was nonchalant. He followed his massive stomach past the doormen with such aplomb that they failed to question him.