The Lost Princess [Hamliza Anastasia AU]

Chapter Fourteen: Bethany

Wednesday, March 9, 1927. Georgetown, New York.

"Hello? Commissioner Howe?" Deputy Commissioner John Andre spoke into the phone. The men would be returning with the street sweeper Bethany any minute now, and he thought it was time to let his commander know he had succeeded.

"Who is this?" Howe inquired. 

"Deputy Commissioner John Andre, sir. I'm calling to let you know we caught the street sweeper from the report, the one who claims she's Elizabeth Schuyler."

"Ah, good!" Howe said. "I have confidence that you'll take all the necessary steps. This has been your only slip up so far, and I'm sure you can put it right."

"Thank you sir," Andre told him. "Your confidence in me will be justified."

"I should hope so. Where are you calling from?"

Weird question, he thought, but decided to answer anyway. "My office."

"How do you like your office?" the commissioner inquired.

Andre was pretty sure Howe had asked him that question before, but he had probably forgotten. People in his post had a lot of information to keep track of after all. Why should he remember asking one of his deputies about his office. "There's a nice view of the Hudson River," he replied. "and a New York telephone that works."

"What's wrong with the rest of our telephones?" Howe asked sharply, and Andre swallowed. He should not have said that. 

"That was a joke, we have wonderful telephones!" he said hastily. It wasn't true, most of the telephones were awful, but that wasn't something you said when the government was the one providing them. 

Just then, one of the guards slipped into the room and whispered something to one of Andre's secretaries, who in turn relayed it to him. "She's here, sir," he called. 

"I have to go," He told Howe, grateful to escape the telephone comment. "Our little troublemaker has been found."

Andre stood up and walked over to the window. His back was to the door, but he heard the clatter of boots and a soft "Hey!", followed by the sounds of his secretaries getting up and leaving. They knew they weren't supposed to be present during an interrogation. 

"It's a remarkable city, our Georgetown," He told the girl, who's name he knew was Bethany, without turning to look at her. It preserved an heir of mystery, and mystery scared people. People who were scared cooperated better. It was unfortunate, but it was a fact of life. When he received no response, he continued. "All those people down there, coming and going, creating a future for themselves. I could stand at this window for hours admiring the good citizens, and wondering why a few bad apples are getting into mischief instead."

"Why was I brought here," The girl asked finally. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Andre couldn't think where he'd heard it before. Probably a good thing, it wouldn't look good if he ended up knowing the woman pretending to be Elizabeth. 

"Perhaps you can tell me," Andre told her, then turned around. Tall, straight black hair, dark chocolate eyes and a knitted hat. He gasped softly. This was the woman from the street that day, back when he had still been just a guard. The woman who had haunted him for the past few weeks with the memory of her soft and subtle beauty. "It's you," Andre exclaimed, sure of it now. "The street sweeper from that day in February. I'd begin to wonder if I'd ever see you again," He smiled and tried to subtly smooth a few wrinkles out of his uniform. Women liked a man in uniform, right? Stay calm, Andre. A part of his brain reminded him. This is still an interrogation after all.