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He whipped his hat off his head, deftly palmed the derringer holstered within, and walked the length of the club car like a deacon until it was brimful with contributions. Nellie opened her carpetbag wide. Bell poured the money in.
Nellie called, “Thank you, gentlemen! Every suffragist in the nation will thank you, and your wives will welcome you home warmly.”
“Another coincidental meeting?” Bell asked. “But no crime this time. At least none yet.”
“It’s no coincidence.”
“Then how do we happen to be on the same train?”
“I asked the clerk at the Willard Hotel for your forwarding address. The Yale Club of New York City.”
“Were you p
lanning a trip to New York?”
“I decided to visit my father.”
“Spur-of-the-moment?”
“Whenever I like,” she smiled back.
Bell said, “I would like to meet your father.”
“How should I introduce you?” Nellie asked. “Father will not cotton to a private detective investigating his corporation.”
“I’m not on the commission case anymore.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a long story,” said Bell.
“We have time for a long story. It’s six hours to New York.”
“Let’s just say it won’t be an official visit,” Isaac Bell lied.
Only part a lie. The chance to observe Spike Hopewell’s former partner in his own home would be absolutely official, but it would not require much pretense to act the part of a man who desired to visit Bill Matters’ daughter. Either daughter.
“Why don’t you introduce me as a gentleman caller?”
“Father won’t believe you. He knows I am not the sort of woman who sits at home waiting for gentleman callers.”
“Then tell him I’m a man hoping for a ride in your balloon.”
“You can ride in my balloon anytime you’ll make a speech for women’s votes.”
“Actually, I rode in a balloon once, in the circus. Is that where you discovered balloons? In the circus?”
“I prefer theaters to circuses. They’re more fantastical.”
“I don’t agree. I ran away to a circus when I was a boy.”
“You must tell me about the circus sometime.”
“How about now?”
“Spur-of-the-moment?”
“Whatever you like.”
