The Harvey Girl

Prologue: Before the Mystery

Everything fell apart after dad disappeared.

Not that anyone in a bustling city like New York would have noticed. I’m ashamed to admit that it took most of the morning before I asked, “Where’s Papa? The drawing room should be choked with his smelly pipe by now.”

The drawing room held no man, nor any pipe smoke. I expected he was still to bed, as was Mam, but it was not unusual for a day after a big event. The night before had been one of those stunning moments in time where the world seemed to stand still and take notice of our little plot of earth.

I most certainly stayed out too late, drank too much and clapped my hands until they felt a sting. The magic of the evening still had my heart dancing, and there it should have lingered to be enjoyed. The day after a big event always left me giddy, and we had so anticipated the opening night at Carnegie Hall.

Of course, opening night was just the start. A whole week of festivities awaited us. We had to pace ourselves to enjoy each day with the same thrill, if it was even possible. I predicted others would falter long before I would. Papa almost boiled over last night, although his good nature rescued the moment. The horse-drawn carriages were lined up a quarter mile long outside Carnegie Hall’s entrance. It created a commotion, to be sure, plus inside the Main Hall was a crushing jam. If it were not for everyone’s finery, and flowing champagne, it would have offended many.

Such things should have been expected. The lack of planning bothered my father, but I assured him that no one could have anticipated the turnout. We agreed to disagree and his mood improved when he saw a business partner in the crowd. Once they had their heads together talking business, he cared for little else.

I did not mind. The spectacle only added to the fun, and more was to come. The music festival would continue all week and our family would be in attendance… if I could stir the household and get the lallygags to begin their day.

First, I had to find my father. It was not like him to sleep late and I expected the butler would have the answer. I considered calling for him or going in search, but that was usually frowned upon. Not that I cared a nit for etiquette, but the older staff were sticklers, more so now that I was of marrying age. Guess it would not help if I admitted to them I felt more girl than lady. Before long, my future would be set and I’d be duty bound to start a family. Unless, I found the perfect man, which I’d been assured by my great auntie, did not exist. A perfect man, for my tastes, would bring adventure to our lives. What kind of adventure, I did not know, since I had not traveled nor seen much beyond a twenty-block radius. I only knew that I wanted someone or something to shake up the norm.

A scream shook the crystal chandelier over my head and had me running to the back of the brownstone. I slid into the kitchen, unfamiliar with the slick floors, buffed to perfection and free of rugs. A smell of cooking bread greeted me, but the delicious scent was lost to a milieu of confusion. I pushed past the butler and our sweet cook to find the back door busted open and blood on the floor. It pooled around Papa’s most beloved Briar pipe, with it’s sterling screw tenon.

“What has happened?” I cried. “Where is my father?”

Only blank stares turned to me, and I knew something desperate must have fallen on us; for in a blink of an eye, my father had been among us and then gone. I learned he had come down that morning, had stuffed his pipe for a morning smoke, had greeted Cook and asked for tea. He even lingered in the kitchen to greet the bread when it came out of the oven, but between that tasty moment and Cook stepping into the pantry for lard, he had vanished.

Mother stumbled into the dreadful scene, and her sobs tore away at my heart. “He would not leave us, willingly,” she moaned and her eyes locked with mine. “Oh, sweet child, he will ruin us all!”

A dread took me. The only way I would ever be free of it was to find my father.