The Carousel Painter (36 page)
He exhaled a loud sigh. “I need to know what she says about Tyson Farnsworth in that letter, Miss Brouwer.”
“Why?” The detective had managed to arouse my interest. Did he suspect Tyson of taking the jewelry?
“You’re the one who asked that I continue to watch him. I’d think you would want me to know anything regarding his whereabouts.”
“Fine!” I gathered the remaining pages and shoved them into his hand.
Once he’d finished, he returned the letter. “Guess I’ll be on my way.”
“That’s it? You have nothing else to say?”
He slapped at a mosquito that landed on his neck. “I can’t comment on a case that’s under investigation, Miss Brouwer, but I do need the full cooperation of folks who have information. I trust that if you hear anything more about the paintings or Mr. Farnsworth, you’ll let me know.”
A nod was my only reply. Now that I’d made it clear I didn’t intend to invite him inside, the detective didn’t linger. I wasn’t certain if it was the biting mosquitoes or my lack of hospitality. Either way, I was glad to bid him farewell.
O
nce I’d finished my lunch, I strolled to the front of the building to see why Josef hadn’t joined me. On our way to work, he’d made it clear he planned to meet me outside at our usual spot behind the paint shop. And Josef was known for his punctuality. When he didn’t appear, I assumed something of importance had occurred, so before returning to work, I decided to locate him.
Rounding the corner near Josef’s office, I stopped in my tracks, surprised by the sight of Mr. Galloway. I hadn’t expected to see him so soon after his recent visit with the businessmen. Since the arrival of summer, his visits had been sporadic, and I assumed he’d been spending time with his family in the Thousand Islands.
One peek in the window on the door was enough to reveal a distinct sheen of perspiration glistening on Josef’s forehead. Telltale patches of red splotched his neck and cheekbones, as well. Both were signs this meeting wasn’t going well. From the movement of his upper body, I knew his legs were bouncing at breakneck speed behind his desk.
Hoping to duck out of sight, I took a sideward step, but not soon enough. Josef caught a glimpse of me and jumped up, his chair tumbling backward in a chaotic somersault. I could hear the crash of wood on cement as the chair landed upside down. With surprising speed, Josef vaulted the chair and charged to the door.
“Carrie! Wait!”
I didn’t want to become involved in a meeting with Mr. Galloway, but one look at Josef’s contorted features brought me to a halt. He needed help, and I couldn’t refuse. I inched inside the doorframe, not wanting to offend Mr. Galloway, for he hadn’t invited my presence.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Galloway.” I forced a thin smile and ignored Josef’s gesture to step closer.
“Good afternoon, Carrie. I trust you are well.”
“Yes. And you?” The exchange seemed trite, given the tenseness that permeated the room.
He shifted in his chair, as though the inconsequential question had caused discomfort. “To be frank, I am not well at all. That is why I am here.”
I glanced at Josef, who had returned to his desk. His color remained ashen, although the splotches of red had mostly disappeared.
Stepping further inside the room, I said, “Not well? I hope it’s nothing of a serious nature.” But the sadness in Mr. Galloway’s eyes revealed something more than a simple head cold afflicted him.
“The doctor tells me my condition is very serious.”
I grabbed for an empty chair to steady myself. Unable to ease my disbelief, I circled around and dropped into the chair with an unladylike thud. “How serious?” Like a flash of lightning, memories of my own father’s unexpected death returned to haunt me. My heart quickened when Mr. Galloway tipped his head forward and stared at his shiny black shoes.
“Suffice it to say that upon my doctor’s sound advice, I will be liquidating my business interests so that I may be relieved of the pressures they place upon me. Then I will need to relocate to a different climate. He tells me some people have been cured with complete rest and a move to the mountains. No guarantees, of course, but it is my best option, and it’s better for the family if I liquidate everything before we move. Just in case.” He cleared his throat. “This includes the sale of the carousel factory. Unfortunately, all of this must take place as soon as possible.” I saw a slight quiver of his lips before he clenched his jaw.
“But how can you sell the factory? Josef owns a portion of the business, doesn’t he?” I looked back and forth between the two men.
“He does.” Mr. Galloway fidgeted with several pieces of paper he held in his hands, finally rolling them into a tube. “But the terms of our contract specify that I need only give Josef a first option to purchase. If he can’t make the arrangements to buy my share, or if he doesn’t elect to purchase, then he loses his rights.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.” I looked at Josef.
Mr. Galloway’s eyes glistened. “Life isn’t always fair, Carrington.” His grief-stricken words dangled in the air like a hangman’s noose.
My lungs constricted as I watched him fight to maintain his composure. Still, my allegiance was to Josef. “Do you have someone in mind if Josef can’t arrange the necessary financing?”
I wasn’t surprised to hear his answer. The men he’d taken through the factory recently had expressed a great deal of interest.
“I dislike doing this to you, Josef, but if I must sell, I believe these men will be fair. They’ve agreed to keep you on as manager.” He glanced in my direction. “And the other employees, as well.”
“What they say to you and what they do once the papers are signed— that could be very different,” Josef said.
“There is always that possibility.” Sounding a bit more hopeful, he added, “Yet it is your designs for the new carousels that have influenced them that
this
factory is their best choice.”
“They’ve looked at another?” I asked.
“Yes. A factory in Brooklyn, but the owner has changed his mind several times over the past year. They came here because they’d wearied of waiting for his decision. And now that they’ve seen the new designs, they are eager to move forward.”
Hope faded with Mr. Galloway’s explanation. These men weren’t casually interested—they were
eager
. If they knew of Mr. Galloway’s health problems, they’d likely be able to strike an excellent bargain. And Josef was correct. Who could say what they would do once they took control? Words were cheap, even those printed in contracts.
And to think our new designs had been a contributing factor in the proposed deal made it all the worse. My stomach ached in protest. How I wished I hadn’t eaten my lunch. “How long does Josef have to arrange for the purchase?”
Josef stared at me as though I’d taken leave of my senses. “What do you mean,
arrange
? There is no way I am able to do such a thing. What banker is going to loan me money?” He turned toward Mr. Galloway and said, “I have been living in a cheap boardinghouse and saving every penny possible because you promised I could one day buy more of the company. But what I have saved is not near enough. I have not had enough time to save so much money.”
Ignoring Josef’s outburst, Mr. Galloway said, “Our contract states thirty days.” He traced his finger along the row of numbers on Josef’s desk calendar. “That’s a Saturday. Why don’t we just wait until Monday, August 18.”
Josef doubled forward as if he’d been punched in the stomach. Thirty days was barely enough time to gather ideas, much less acquire funds. “Impossible.” The one strangled word sounded as though it had lodged in his throat.
“I am sorry, Josef. I will do my best to gain you additional time if you think there’s some way you can obtain a loan.” Mr. Galloway tapped the rolled-up papers on the edge of the desk. “If I weren’t ill . . .”
“But you are, and that cannot be changed. I will do what I can.” Josef brushed a lock of damp hair from his forehead.
My head reeled at the many questions skittering through my mind, and I wondered how his family had accepted the tragic news. “Does Augusta know? About your illness, I mean.”
Mr. Galloway’s shoulders sagged. “She knows I am ill, but she doesn’t realize the gravity. Only my wife knows the full extent of my illness— and now the two of you. I trust you won’t write and tell—”
“No, of course not. I would never do such a thing.”
“In due time I will speak with Ronald and Augusta.” Mr. Galloway pushed up from his chair. “I am so very sorry, Josef. I will be praying you arrive at a solution that will permit you to keep the factory.” Shoulders slumped, he crossed the room and disappeared from sight.
A wellspring of pain filled Josef ’s eyes, and I struggled to find words that might soothe him. Instead, despair pumped through my veins. A suffocating fear permeated the room, and I reached out and covered Josef ’s hand with my own. “Somehow we’ll find a way,” I whispered.
He shook his head. “There are times when there is no way. This is one of those times.”
“Don’t say that! You have worked too hard to give up on your dream. We’ll go to the bank. Maybe Mr. Tobarth or Mr. Lundgren will have an idea. You have thirty days. We must use the time wisely.”
He looked out the office window into the carving shop. “The men, they are watching us. You should go back to work before there is talk that I am showing favors.”
I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms across my waist. “I will not go back to the paint shop until you promise me you will fight to keep this factory.”
The thread of a smile lurked behind his sullen look. “I will give you my promise, but only because there is work that must be done.”
“And because you want to own this factory,” I said. “Should I tell Mr. Tobarth, or will you speak with him?”
“With the pushing, you never stop, do you? I will speak to him later. Now return to your work.”
August 7, 1890
Three weeks had passed since Mr. Galloway’s appearance at the factory. After a visit to the bank and receiving the discouraging news Josef had expected, I had helped him pen letters to all of his old acquaintances in Philadelphia. We had hoped that maybe, just maybe, one of them would have enough money and a desire to become a partner in the carousel factory. Except for his friend Reinhold, all of the replies had arrived containing the same message:
If only I had the money, I would be
very pleased to invest in the business.
We were on our way home from work on what should have been an exciting day. Josef had completed carving an elaborate rocking gondola— a first for any factory in this country. All of us had raved over the intricate details and beauty of the piece, but his mood continued to remain glum.
He kicked a small stone out into the street. “I may decide to return to Philadelphia when the new owners take over.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Why would you ever consider such a thing? Mr. Galloway said—”
Josef interrupted me with a flick of his wrist. “I know what he said. They want us to stay so they can use our talent for their own gain. I’m not interested in such an arrangement. If I cannot be an owner, I do not want to stay.” He gestured for me to keep walking. “You can remain and help them. It is your choice.”
My choice? What did that mean about us, I wondered. Not long ago he’d spoken of his affection for me and plans for the future. Distant plans, of course, but he’d led me to believe he cared for me, even loved me. “So you plan to cast me aside?” I came to a stop in front of Mrs. McDougal’s house.
“I am not casting you. I am not even sure what it means to cast you. I am telling you what I must do. If you want to leave Collinsford, I think I could help you find work in Philadelphia.”
“I don’t want to live in Philadelphia.” I hadn’t meant to shout, but I couldn’t subdue my anger. His decision to give up wasn’t acceptable, and he needed to know it.
Mrs. McDougal inched forward on her chair and rested her forearms across the porch railing. She peered down at us as though preparing for an evening of entertainment. I glared in her direction. You would think the woman would be inside fixing her husband’s supper!
