Murder In Chinatown (30 page)

“Did anybody come out?” he asked.

“Not a soul.”

“The girl’s missing. Search the yard.”

He didn’t think they’d find her, but it was foolish not to at least try. Maybe she was still hiding, waiting for dark to escape. Frank went inside and found Mrs. Keller still helping the rest of the girls search the house.

“How long has Mrs. Brandt been gone?” he asked her.

“An hour or so, I’d say. She talked with Keely, and when they were finished and Keely went back to class—or at least I thought she went back to class—Mrs. Brandt asked me about finding some clothes for her. Keely had come with a bundle, and she hadn’t said anything about needing clothes, so I didn’t think—”

“Detective Sergeant!”

Frank looked up to see one of the officers coming down the hallway toward him. “We found this in the privy,” he said, holding up an article of clothing.

“That’s the dress Keely was wearing,” Mrs. Keller said in surprise. “Why would she have taken it off?”

“So she could dress up,” Frank said furiously.

“Dress up as what?” Mrs. Keller asked in surprise.

“As a Chinese man,” Frank said, certain he knew exactly what she was wearing. She’d carried her disguise with her in that bundle Mrs. Keller had noticed. That’s why Ah Woh hadn’t been able to find the red shirt. “She’ll be wearing a red silk shirt, one of those fancy ones, and probably black trousers and a wide-brimmed hat.” He turned to Mrs. Keller. “Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

“None at all.”

Frank turned to the patrolman still holding the discarded dress. “Go back to Headquarters and round up as many men as you can find. Give them that description and turn them loose in the neighborhood to find out if anybody saw her.”

The patrolman’s expression mirrored Frank’s own lack of confidence in such a search. They’d probably never see Keely O’Neal again. But he hurried to carry out Frank’s orders anyway.

S
ARAH DECIDED TO WALK HOME INSTEAD OF TAKING THE
Elevated Train. Even if she took the train, she’d have to walk quite a ways, and the day was lovely, too lovely to spend squashed into a car with a hundred strangers. Besides, walking gave her time to think.

Malloy was right. They were overlooking something important. She hoped he’d had more luck with his witness than she’d had with Keely. All they had to do was figure out which of the Chinese men Angel knew had killed her and then would have been able to sneak into John Wong’s house and kill him, too. If Wong could figure it out, so could they. Or so she thought. By the time she got home to Bank Street, her head hurt from trying.

Catherine came running to meet her, as usual, and jumped up into her arms for a hug. Maeve wasn’t far behind her.

“I’ve been that worried about you, Mrs. Brandt. You’ve been gone so long!” Maeve exclaimed.

“Have you been worried about me, or have you been wondering what happened?” Sarah teased her, knowing she hadn’t been gone all that long. It wasn’t even noon yet.

“Well, both,” Maeve allowed, blushing slightly. “You can’t blame me, though, after the way you and Mrs. Lee left this morning.”

“I don’t suppose I can,” Sarah said, setting Catherine back on her feet.

“I was just making some sandwiches,” Maeve said. “Are you hungry?”

Sarah was starving, so they adjourned to the kitchen.

“What happened with that boy Harry and his father?” Maeve asked as she set about preparing an extra sandwich for Sarah.

Sarah looked at Catherine, judging whether she should speak in front of the child. Catherine seemed more interested in helping Maeve than in what they were discussing, and besides, her news wasn’t particularly shocking.

“Mr. Malloy questioned them both and then let them go home,” Sarah said.

“Then Mrs. Lee was all upset for nothing,” Maeve said.

“Not for nothing,” Sarah disagreed. “Having the police come to your house at the crack of dawn and haul away your husband and son is pretty terrifying.”

“Why did Mr. Malloy let them go then?”

“Because he didn’t think either of them had done anything wrong.” Sarah looked at Catherine again. The child seemed engrossed in eating her sandwich, but Sarah knew that she was listening to every word. How could she not? Sarah decided to change the subject. “I stopped by the Mission on my way home to see Keely O’Neal.”

“Is she still there?” Maeve asked slyly.

Sarah smiled back. “Yes, but you were right. She doesn’t like it very much. She’s not used to following so many rules, and she said the other girls don’t like her.”

“They’re always suspicious of a new girl,” Maeve said. “Aren’t they, Catherine?”

The child nodded solemnly.

“Why is that?” Sarah asked.

“Because you never know what she’s really like,” Maeve explained, setting a sandwich down in front of Sarah and then taking a seat herself. “Most girls will be scared when they first come, so they keep quiet and keep to themselves until they figure things out.”

“How long does that take?”

“A few days, usually. Sometimes longer. That’s when you find out what the new girl is really like.”

Sarah knew that not every girl who came to the Mission stayed. Some ran away and a very few were asked to leave. “So we still have some time until we know what Keely will do?”

“Yes, but with her, I wouldn’t hold out much hope. A girl like that, I’d expect that they’ll wake up one morning and she’ll have stolen everything she can carry and disappeared.”

“Oh, my!” Ordinarily, Sarah would have defended any girl against such an unpleasant prediction, but for some reason, she didn’t feel charitable toward Keely.

“That’s why the other girls don’t act real friendly at first,” Maeve continued. “They wait to see if the new girl will turn on them or if she really wants help.”

“I’m afraid Keely doesn’t really want help,” Sarah said with a sigh. “And she can’t go home again. You were right about that, too. Her family doesn’t want her back after she’s been with a Chinese man. The Mission is really the best place for her, so I was hoping you could help me figure out how to reach her.”

But Maeve was shaking her head. “She’s got to make up her own mind first.”

“But couldn’t you talk some sense to her?” Sarah argued. “Convince her that her best chance is to stay where she’s safe?”

Maeve looked at her in surprise. “You want me to go see her? To try to change her mind?”

“Yes,” Sarah said. “You’re a perfect example of how a girl can make a success of her life if she tries.”

This time Maeve’s blush was from pride. “Thank you, Mrs. Brandt.”

“I’m only saying what’s true,” Sarah assured her. “Would you be willing to talk to Keely?”

“I…I guess so,” Maeve said, “but don’t be surprised if it doesn’t do any good.”

They ate for a few minutes in silence, and then Maeve asked, “If Mr. Malloy let Mr. Lee and his boy go, who’s he going after next?”

“He was going to question his witness again, the old lady who saw Angel…” Sarah glanced at Catherine, who was listening avidly. “Who saw Angel with the man who hurt her, and get a better description of the clothes the man was wearing. Then he’s going to see if Mr. Wong’s nephew has remembered anything else.”

“It doesn’t sound very promising,” Maeve observed.

Someone knocked on the back door.

“That’ll be Mrs. Ellsworth,” Maeve said, jumping up. “She said she’d be over after lunch.”

Maeve threw open the back door, and her exclamation of surprise caused Sarah to look up just in time to see a Chinese man lunging for her.

F
RANK WAS STANDING ON THE SIDEWALK IN FRONT OF
the Mission, directing the search for Keely, when Officer Donatelli wheeled up on a bicycle.

“What are you doing on that thing?” Frank asked, eyeing the cycle with suspicion. The department had started a bicycle squad to patrol the streets, but Donatelli wasn’t a member of it.

“It’s a good way to get around the city,” Donatelli informed him. “It’s faster than walking, and you can go between wagons and even up on the sidewalk if you need to, so you never get stuck in traffic. What do you want me to do?”

Frank had pretty much covered all the possibilities. He had every available man questioning people on the six blocks surrounding the Mission. So far, nobody had seen a Chinese man in a red shirt. Probably, Frank thought, they’d just ignored Keely, the way they did all the Chinese they saw. Either way, he was no closer to finding her. He’d even sent someone over to the O’Neal flat, in case she’d taken a chance that her family would hide her, but Keely wasn’t there either. He had one last hope.

“Mrs. Brandt was the last person with Keely before she disappeared,” Frank told him. “Drive that contraption over to her house and find out what they talked about. Maybe she’ll have an idea of where to look for the girl.”

Donatelli nodded and took off, pedaling furiously. Frank watched him go with a frown. It might be fast, but only a fool would get on one of those things.

“Mr. Malloy?”

Frank looked up to find Mrs. Keller coming down the front steps of the Mission. An older woman wearing a shabby dress and an enormous apron was with her. They both looked very worried, and the older woman was actually wringing her hands.

“Mr. Malloy, this is Mrs. O’Dell. She’s our cook. Tell him what you noticed, Mary.”

The older woman’s red face grew even redder. “I don’t know if it means anything,” she wailed.

“Tell him,” Mrs. Keller urged.

“Well, just now,” she began anxiously, “I went into the kitchen. I figured the girls would be hungry, even with all this excitement, but when I goes to slice the cheese to make them some sandwiches, I can’t find my knife.”

Frank felt a chill. “Are you sure you didn’t misplace it?”

“Oh, no, I looked all over before I ever said a word to Mrs. Keller, I did. It ain’t nowhere in the kitchen. I’d swear to that.”

“What kind of a knife is it?”

“It’s big and sharp,” she said a little testily, as if he should have figured that out for himself. “Blade about this long.”

Frank managed not to wince when she indicated a blade of about eight inches.

“She probably took it for protection,” Mrs. Keller offered.

Frank was sure of it, but Keely’s idea of protection was to kill anyone who posed a threat to her. The question was, did she have anyone else on her list of people she wanted to kill?

F
OR A MOMENT, TIME SEEMED TO STOP
. S
ARAH HAD
looked up and seen not Mrs. Ellsworth but a Chinese man standing on her back porch. His hand was raised and holding something, and he’d started to lunge toward Maeve, but he’d caught himself suddenly when Maeve cried out.

In that split second, when they were all frozen, Sarah looked at his face beneath the brim of his hat, and that’s when she understood everything.

“Keely!”
Sarah cried.

Keely’s confused gaze darted from Maeve to Sarah, and her face twisted with hatred. The thing in her hand was a knife, Sarah realized in horror, and when she saw Sarah, she drew it back to lunge again. In the same instant, Maeve slammed the door shut with all her strength.

The door caught Keely’s arm at the wrist. Keely howled in pain, and the knife went flying. Maeve pulled the door open again, and Keely slumped forward into the opening, grabbing her injured wrist. Merciless, Maeve slammed the door again, this time catching Keely’s head and sending her hat flying. The edge of the door split her temple, and when Maeve opened it again, blood began to stream down Keely’s face.

Part of Sarah’s mind registered that Catherine had fled, leaving her free to worry only about Maeve and Keely. Before she had even formed a coherent thought, she was on her feet and across the room. She grabbed the edge of the door when Maeve would have slammed it again.

“That’s enough!” she cried and grabbed Keely by the arm to keep her from slumping to the floor. “Help me get her inside.”

“She tried to kill me!” Maeve protested.

“I think she meant to kill
me
,” Sarah corrected her. “In any case, she’s not going to kill anyone now. Where’s the knife?”

Maeve looked around while Sarah helped the dazed girl into the kitchen and down onto a chair.

“I don’t see it,” Maeve said. “You can’t just bring her into the house when she tried to kill us!” she added when she saw what Sarah was doing. “And why is she dressed like that?”

Keely was looking at Maeve in wonder, still clutching her wrist, which Sarah could see now was probably broken. “Who are you?” she asked. Then she looked up at Sarah accusingly. “You said you didn’t have any kids.”

“We have to tell Mr. Malloy,” Maeve informed Sarah. “And you can’t leave her here. What if she tries to kill us again?”

“Her wrist is broken,” Sarah said, “and I’m not sure she isn’t going to pass out from that blow to her head, but if it will make you feel any better, we can tie her up. Go get my mending basket. There’s some stockings in it that will do.”