City of Lies Page 12

  Gideon could see that Anna’s eyes were open now, and she was responding to his mother. Thank God for that.

  Meanwhile, the women who still had some strength were assisting the weaker ones to lie down on the benches. Others sank down wearily, leaning on each other for support. Finally, his mother took a seat on the bench nearest Anna’s stretcher, and the other girl—who on earth was she?—sat down on the floor beside Anna and took her hand.

  Only then did Gideon find David and squeeze onto the bench beside him.

  “Did you see Anna?” David asked.

  “My mother and that other girl are looking after her. Her eyes were open just now, and she seemed to be talking.”

  David ran an unsteady hand over his face. “If the judge doesn’t release them, I swear I’ll carry her out of here myself.”

  The bailiff was trying to bring the room to order, and after a few more minutes he finally succeeded. The press were the last to find their seats in the very back of the room, and when even they were quiet, the bailiff told everyone to rise. Judge Waddill swept into the room.

  He was, Gideon had learned, a true Southern gentleman who could be counted on to be fair. That was all they could ask.

  • • •

  “Don’t talk,” Elizabeth whispered to Anna, who had been trying to tell her something for a while now, but the room was too noisy and Anna’s voice too weak for her to hear.

  Elizabeth was pretty weak herself. She heard the fellow up front call out, “All rise,” but she didn’t think she had the strength to do it. Mrs. Bates, bless her, put a hand on her shoulder and held her down in case she felt like trying, which she didn’t. Many of the other women didn’t rise, either. Some didn’t even seem to be conscious.

  The judge came out in his black robes, but she didn’t get a good look at him until everybody sat down again. He didn’t look cruel, but you could never really tell about some men. Sometimes the most charming ones were the meanest in the end. This one started talking, and Elizabeth found she liked his voice, all deep and slow and easy with his Southern accent.

  She knew she should pay attention. This was important. She really needed to know what was going on, because she needed to know what was going to happen to her. If they let her go, she’d have to figure out how to keep Thornton from finding her. But somewhere between the workhouse and the courthouse, her head had started to ache. Now it was pounding, and she couldn’t seem to concentrate for more than a few minutes at a time. At least she was sure Thornton and his goons weren’t here. That was really all she needed to know.

  Through the haze, she did see Whittaker. He’d brought some of his thugs along with him, too. They were all done up in their Sunday best, which reminded her of a poster she’d seen once with a picture of a gorilla in a dress suit. The comparison made her smile.

  The judge wasn’t happy about something. Miss Burns wasn’t here. And Mrs. Lewis. That was it. They’d disappeared from the infirmary days ago, she knew. Whittaker was supposed to have produced all the prisoners, though, and the judge wanted to know where they were. Too sick to come, Whittaker said. He’d sent them back to the D.C. jail. Matron Herndon was there, too. She was trying to look concerned, but she just looked like she was constipated.

  The attorneys argued for a while, and Elizabeth’s attention wandered. She could see the back of David Vanderslice’s blond head from here. Poor Anna. Her brother had certainly been blessed. Not only was he a male, he’d also gotten more than his fair share of good looks. How sad to have a brother who was more beautiful than you. At least Jake wasn’t prettier than she was. If he was still alive. Poor Jake. She wanted to cry for him but didn’t have the strength.

  And that other fellow, the one with David. Who was he? Maybe Mrs. Bates’s son. He was a lawyer, Elizabeth knew, but he wasn’t up at the front with the others. She supposed the women had enough lawyers and didn’t need his help.

  Some man got up on the witness stand and swore on a Bible to tell the truth, although Elizabeth could tell just by looking at him that he wasn’t going to do it. Not only was he blinking, he was shifting in his chair and wringing his hands and looking everywhere but at the attorney asking him questions. After a bit she realized he was the warden at the D.C. jail. He was explaining to the judge why he’d sent all of them to the workhouse in Virginia instead of keeping them in his jail like he was supposed to. The judge didn’t like his answers, and no wonder. He didn’t have a single good one to his name.

  Anna was asleep again, or at least her eyes were closed. Good for her. There was no sense wasting energy trying to listen to all this claptrap. The rest would do her good. Elizabeth wanted to sleep, too, but she thought Mrs. Bates might be disappointed in her, so she tried to listen some more.

  They were talking about Mrs. Nolan now, the really old lady who’d disappeared that first morning. Nobody had seen her for days, and since her sentence was up, they all thought she’d been released. But the judge called her name, and to Elizabeth’s surprise, she stood up. She was on the front row and looking a lot more spry than the last time Elizabeth had seen her. Then a lot of people seemed surprised about something. Elizabeth was amazed when the judge said the old lady was only seventy-three years old, although that was still plenty old for going to a workhouse, she supposed.

  Mrs. Nolan sat down, and the judge lit into the warden again. Something about how they’d all been arrested and sentenced in Washington, D.C., and why were they imprisoned in Lorton, Virginia?

  Elizabeth couldn’t figure it out, either, probably because her head ached so badly. She rubbed her forehead, but it didn’t help. She tried to pay attention, but the words didn’t make sense anymore, no matter how closely she listened. She thought it must be the rushing sound that was filling her ears and her head, and why was the room getting so dark when it wasn’t even noon yet . . . ?

  • • •

  Someone screamed, and Gideon saw that the blue-eyed girl had slumped to the floor in a faint. Before anyone else even moved, he was out of his seat and beside her.

  “Get her out of here, Gideon,” his mother whispered.

  He lifted the girl into his arms and carried her to the back of the room. One of the guards opened the door, and he stepped out into the hallway. An ancient sofa sat against the wall, and Gideon carried her to it and laid her down.

  He didn’t have a lot of experience with ladies who fainted. At least he hoped she’d just fainted. But even if she had, he didn’t have the slightest idea what to do for her. Luckily, he didn’t have to do anything. After he’d stared at her for a few minutes, admiring the curve of her cheek and the smoothness of her skin, her eyes fluttered open.

  Those beautiful eyes. This time, they filled with alarm.

  “You fainted,” he hastily explained. “I carried you out to the hall.”

  “I never faint,” she said a bit petulantly.

  “You probably never go on hunger strikes, either.”

  She blinked a few times as if trying to bring him into focus. “You’re Gideon, aren’t you?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “You’re with David.”

  “You know my mother and Anna, then.”

  She started to nod, then winced and lifted a hand to her head.

  “Would you like to sit up? That might help.”

  “Nothing will help, but yes, I would.”

  Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have taken the liberty of putting his arm around a young lady whom he had just met, but since he’d already carried her bodily from the courtroom, he figured the regular rules didn’t really apply in this situation. He slipped his arm under her shoulders and helped her sit up.

  For a moment, she looked as if she would faint again, but she fought it off and, after a few deep breaths, she looked up at him. “Why aren’t you in there with the other lawyers?”

  “Because I’m here with you. And h
ow did you know I’m a lawyer?”

  “Your mother brags about you.”

  That made him smile.

  She smiled back, a glorious sight indeed.

  “My mother didn’t brag about you,” he said. “Who are you?”

  “Elizabeth,” she said, and her smile vanished. “Miles,” she added after a moment, as if she’d had to remember it. “Elizabeth Miles.”

  “I’m honored to meet you, Miss Miles. Are you ill?”

  She frowned at that. “I’ve been on a hunger strike, remember?”

  “No, I meant your voice. You sound like you’ve got a cold.”

  “Oh.” She touched her throat. “No, not a cold. Force-feeding.”

  Rage boiled up in him again. His mother had told him the stories of other suffragists who had been jailed. “Did they hurt you?”

  Amazingly, she smiled again. “Of course they did. What’s going to happen to us now?”

  Gideon needed a moment to control his anger. “We’re hoping the judge will order all of you sent back to Washington, to the jail there.”

  “He’s not going to set us free, then?”

  “He doesn’t have that authority, I’m afraid. In fact, our legal argument is that you shouldn’t have been sent outside the District of Columbia in the first place. We’re trying to get you out of that horrible workhouse and back to D.C. Then we can work on getting you released.”

  “So we’ll still be in jail.”

  “I’m sorry, but yes, probably. We hope it won’t be for long, though.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed, and he silently cursed himself for causing her distress. “Of course, when you get back to D.C., we’re going to ask that judge to release you, and he might grant you bail while he decides.”

  She didn’t seem too pleased about that. “But we can refuse to pay it, can’t we?”

  “Of course you can, and it might even be in your best interest to do so. Where are you from?”

  “Uh . . . South Dakota.” She’d had to think about that, too. She must have been even more ill from the hunger strike than he’d thought.

  “You’re a long way from home. Many of the other ladies are, too. If you’re released on bail and go home, and then the judge decides you need to serve out your full sentences after all, you’d just have to come back here again.”

  She nodded her understanding and closed her eyes again. She must have been exhausted.

  “May I get you something?”

  She opened her eyes and glanced meaningfully around the barren hallway. “What did you have in mind?”

  “I’m sorry. I guess it’s just the habit of a lifetime to offer help to a damsel in distress.”

  “Do you meet many of those?”

  “Not many, and certainly none as interesting as you, Miss Miles.”

  “If you’re flirting with me, Mr. Bates, you’re wasting your time. I’m sure I won’t remember any of this.”

  “I’ll remind you.”

  “You’ll probably never see me again.”

  “I think I will. My mother likes you. She won’t let you get too far away.”

  She smiled again, but this time her lovely eyes looked sad. “We should go back inside. I want to find out what the judge decides.”

  Gideon did, too. “Can you walk?”

  “I hope so, but you’ll help me, won’t you? The habits of a lifetime and all that.”

  “Of course.” He helped her to her feet, which luckily involved putting his arm around her again. It felt so good, he left it there and supported her with his other hand beneath her elbow. “Are you sure you want to go back in?”

  She sighed again. “Your mother will worry if I don’t.”

  “Yes, she will, but if you really don’t feel well . . .”

  “Let’s go.”

  He matched his pace to hers, savoring the nearness of her. She smelled of disinfectant, and her auburn hair was limp and her clothes creased, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen a more beautiful female. He really had no idea if his mother planned to keep her near, but he would suggest it to her at the first opportunity. At least he didn’t have to worry about her disappearing of her own accord. There were a few advantages to a woman being in police custody.

  A guard opened the door for them, and he escorted Miss Miles back into the courtroom. No one noticed their return because the judge was chastising Whittaker and his bunch again. Some of the women on the back row moved over to make room for Elizabeth, and he relinquished her to them with regret. The next time they met, all the rules of propriety would be back in force, and he wouldn’t be able to hold her in his arms.

  At least not at first.

  He found a spot along the back wall to stand, just behind her. He wanted to stay close in case she fainted again, he told himself.

  A murmur of surprise rumbled through the courtroom, distracting him from thoughts of the luscious Miss Elizabeth Miles. The judge banged his gavel for silence, and when he had it, he gave them his decision. Like all judges, he had to explain his reasoning and cite some laws, but in the end, he said all the women would be remanded to the custody of the superintendent of the Washington jail.

  Judge Waddill had to bang his gavel again for order, and the government’s attorneys jumped up and announced they would appeal the verdict.

  “In that case,” Judge Waddill said, taking obvious delight in thwarting their maneuver, “all the prisoners are at liberty to be paroled to the custody of their legal counsel until such time as the appeal has been heard.”

  “No!”

  Gideon glanced at Elizabeth in surprise. Had she really said no to being released?

  Mr. O’Brien was thanking the judge, but Elizabeth was signaling that she wanted to speak with him. The women around her started whispering, probably questioning her about why she’d protested being freed, and when she’d whispered back her reply, they all started waving for O’Brien.

  Having little choice, O’Brien asked for a moment to confer with his clients. The judge allowed a brief recess, during which no one actually left the courtroom while the women conferred, first with each other as Elizabeth explained her concerns, and then with their attorneys. Gideon tried to join them, but a couple of the guards escorted him back to the spectators’ side of the room, where he sat down beside David again.

  “What’s going on?” David asked.

  “Apparently, the women aren’t too happy about being released.” Miss Miles hadn’t been, at least.

  “That’s ridiculous! Why wouldn’t they want to be released?”

  Gideon figured he knew. He’d just explained it to Elizabeth out in the hallway.

  After a few more minutes of hushed discussion among the women and their legal counsel, O’Brien and his cohorts returned to their seats, and the judge called everyone to order again.

  “Your honor,” O’Brien said. “I have conferred with my clients, and they have reminded me that many of them have come from great distances to join in the demonstrations at the White House. They would all like to return to their homes, but if the appeal is not decided in their favor, they will have to return to Washington to serve the remainder of their sentences. Their only other option is to remain in Washington until the appeal is heard, at great expense and personal inconvenience. Therefore, they would like to be allowed to remain in custody at the Washington jail to serve out the remainder of their sentences while the appeal is being decided.”

  The judge considered this very unusual request and allowed that he could see the logic in it. Hearing no objection from the government’s attorneys, he again remanded the prisoners to Warden Zinkhan’s custody.

  Gideon managed to catch Elizabeth’s eye across the crowded courtroom, and to his gratification, she smiled.

  • • •

  Elizabeth wondered what the Old Man would say if he kn
ew how happy she was at the prospect of staying in jail. But after she’d gone to so much trouble to get there, she couldn’t lose her safe haven just yet. She was still amazed at how easy it had been to convince the other women to stay in jail, and thank heaven Gideon Bates had given her the idea. At least they’d be going to a slightly more comfortable place and the hunger strike could end. Anna wouldn’t last much longer if it didn’t. Neither would she, come to that. Now she could get her strength back and be ready to make her escape when they finally were released.

  The guards were rounding up the women now, herding them to the wagons. They’d be going straight to the depot to catch a train to Washington. Elizabeth pushed her way through the milling women to find Anna. She still lay strapped to the stretcher, but she was smiling up at Mrs. Bates when Elizabeth reached them.

  “We’re going back to Washington,” Anna told her.

  “I know. You’re going to get better now. It’s just a few more hours.”

  “How are you, Elizabeth?” Mrs. Bates asked. “I was so frightened when you fainted.”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. Her head still felt as if someone were hitting it with a mallet, but she didn’t see any point in complaining. All the women were miserable. “Are you feeling all right?”

  “I can’t believe I’m doing better than both you girls, but yes, I’m fine, too.”

  They had no more time to talk. Two guards picked up Anna’s stretcher and they had to hurry to keep up. The trip to the station was one final agony of bouncing on wooden seats over rutted roads, but at last they were on the train. Elizabeth got Anna tucked into the seat beside her, and Mrs. Bates found them as the train pulled away from the station.

  “How long do you think they’ll let us stay at the jail?” Elizabeth asked her.

  “What an odd way to put it,” Mrs. Bates said, taking a seat across the aisle from her. “You sound as if you want to stay in jail.”

  She did, of course, but she said, “I’m just wondering how long until the appeal, because surely, they’ll let us go then. I’m worried about Anna,” Elizabeth said, surprised to realize it wasn’t a lie.