“I’m afraid I have no idea how you’d come to that conclusion,” Daphne said. “If someone shot me, I’d definitely be suspicious about their motives.”
“And normally I’d agree with you, but Eugenia Howland is an expert marksman, or rather, markswoman. If she’d been intending to kill me, I wouldn’t be sitting here now. However, instead of shooting to kill, she merely put a bullet through my arm, missing all essential parts, which I assure you, she did on purpose. I’m assuming she did so because she probably thought thatIkilled her grandfather and was planning to kill her next.”
“What happened after she shot you?”
“The force of the bullet sent me on my backside. I simply stayed on the ground for a long moment, bracing myself for another attack from Eugenia, which didn’t come.”
“I thought you said you’d decided she wasn’t a murderess.”
“I didn’t decide that right away.” Arthur frowned. “Have you ever been shot, Daphne?”
“No, but I did have a knife pulled on me when we were investigating the Knickerbocker Bandit case.”
“And while you were being held at knifepoint, did you make any conclusions or decide anything of worth?”
“I can’t say that I did.”
“Because it wasn’t the moment for thinking. It was the same for me, but after I realized Eugenia had fled the scene, my mind kicked into gear, and that’s when I decided that she’d not shot me because she’d killed her grandfather but because she’d been desperate to get away from me.”
“Did you go after her?” Eunice asked.
“I was intending on doing exactly that until I began considering the situation in more depth. It seemed suspicious to me that Eugenia’s very distinctive Colt revolver had been on the scene. She had once told me that her Colt pistol, while custom made for her, was too showy, and she didn’t care for the way it performed. She instead preferred her Smith & Wesson Model 3 revolver or a small derringer that was easily hidden in the pocket of the trousers she enjoyed wearing.”
Eunice, to his surprise, returned her pistol to the desk drawer and then settled back in her chair. “I’ve decided you’re not a threat, Mr. Livingston. But don’t relax your guard. I assure you I won’t hesitate to bring my pistol out again. With that settled, back to your story. You decided the scene was suspicious, and...?”
“Someone was trying to frame Eugenia. She is a grand heiress, after all, and if someone shot James because of his money, the best way to get to that money after he was dead was to either kill Eugenia or to frame her for the deed, as it’s likely a judge would render Eugenia’s right to her fortune invalid if she were convicted of her grandfather’s murder.
“That’s when I decided to stage the scene. I wrapped up my arm, retrieved James’s pistol from his jacket pocket, and arranged it to where it looked like he could have dropped it if he’d shot himself. I then made my way back to the house, slipping in through a side door so as not to be seen. After I changed out of my bloody shirt, I headed out of the house again, making certain the staff knew I was on my way to meet up with James. I returned to the house a short time later, telling everyone there’d been an accident.”
“And no one realized you’d been shot?” Daphne pressed.
“It was merely a flesh wound. The bullet took off a bit of skin from the side of my arm, and I hate to admit this, but it was a brilliant shot on Eugenia’s part, especially considering she had to have been in a distressed state after finding her grandfather dead.”
“It was kind of her to be so brilliant with her shot.”
“It would have been kinder if she’d refrained from shooting me in the first place.”
“Well, quite.” Daphne bent over her notes again. “You said you were on the target field because James asked you to meet him there. Can you say more about what you think he wanted to speak to you about?”
“I thought he wanted to further discuss the promise I’d given him the night before, one that had me agreeing to look after Eugenia’s best interests if the circumstance arose where he was unable to do that.”
Eunice leaned forward. “He made you promise to look after her best interests?”
“He did, although I was reluctant to agree. I knew there was a chance that promise would be followed by a request to marry his granddaughter, a request I wouldn’t have been keen to grant. However, with that said, there was something different in his eyes when he made his appeal, something... desperate. James was not a man who ever pleaded with anyone, but that’s what he was doing with me, which is why I relented and agreed to look after his granddaughter.”
“Why didn’t you want to marry Eugenia?” Daphne asked.
Arthur frowned. “I don’t believe that has any relevance to the case.”
“But it would appease my curiosity,” Daphne said.
He felt the oddest inclination to laugh. “You’re very persistent, I’ll give you that. But I’m afraid your curiosity will have to stay unappeased because I have a feeling you’ll take exception to my reason for not wanting to marry Eugenia. That will hardly encourage you to take on my case, and speaking of my case, dare I hope I’ve now given you enough information to where you realize that finding Eugenia Howland is a worthy cause?”
“We still have a few questions,” Eunice said, rising from her chair to move beside Daphne. She took Daphne’s notepad from her and flipped through the pages. “Ah, here’s a good one. Why do you believe Eugenia could be in New York City?”
“I’m not convinced she is, but the only lead I have was given to me from the Pinkertons seven years ago. They discovered that Eugenia had arrived in this city, but that she never boarded the ship she was scheduled to take to England. I’m hoping she decided to stay here.”
Eunice returned Daphne’s notepad before she moved behind her desk again, her weeping veils rustling as she settled into her chair. “Have you considered that she may no longer be alive? Perhaps whoever killed her grandfather caught up with her and took care of her once and for all.”
