Murder on Mulberry Bend (24 page)

“I married well,” Sarah said, her smile genuine this time. “And when my husband died, I continued his work. He was a physician.”

“I see. So you’ve decided to help Mrs. Wells save the souls of those poor, miserable girls.”

“I don’t know about their souls. That’s Mrs. Wells’s job. I’m only trying to save their bodies.”

“A worthy goal, and one that is far easier to attain,” Mrs. Graves said with sincere approval.

“You said you didn’t know Mrs. Wells very well, but I was wondering what you thought of her,” Sarah asked.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I’m not asking you to gossip,” Sarah hastily assured her. “I’d just like your opinion on her methods. Have they been successful? I saw a few things at the mission that concerned me, and I’d like to have someone else’s view of the situation.”

“As I told you, I don’t know Mrs. Wells very well. We’ve continued to support the mission out of respect for Mr. Wells and his vision, and because we honestly believe it serves a useful purpose. I’m ashamed to admit we haven’t been as involved as we should have been, however, since Hazel died. I’ve been — well, going there brought back too many memories of her. What have you seen that disturbed you?”

“Nothing untoward,” Sarah said. “I’m sure Mrs. Wells isn’t even aware of it, but I saw a lot of rivalry among the girls for her affections.”

“I would expect them to be jealous of each other, under the circumstances. Our children are jealous of each other. It’s only natural for them to want all the attention for themselves.”

“I wish it were that type of jealousy, but I had a sister, and I know the difference,” Sarah said. “At the mission, they are much more fierce.”

“Don’t forget you aren’t dealing with a finishing school here, Mrs. Brandt,” Mrs. Graves reminded her. “You would know even better than I what those girls have been through. They may have seen people beaten to death out of jealousy or stabbed for a scrap of food. They’ve probably never even seen
friendly
competition.”

“I suppose you’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but I still don’t think it’s a good situation. The girls behave almost as if they were romantic rivals.”

Mrs. Graves raised her eyebrows as the meaning of Sarah’s words sank in. “I suppose they are, in a way,” she agreed. “They must be desperate for love, and Mrs. Wells offers them the promise of unconditional acceptance — from God but mostly from herself, as his messenger on earth.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know her well,” Sarah said.

“I don’t, but this seems like the approach she would take,” she explained. “And it would certainly be effective. The girls know they must repent their evil ways in order to win Mrs. Wells’s acceptance, and along the way, they seek God’s acceptance as well.”

“That seems almost ... dishonest,” Sarah admitted reluctantly.

“Tricking someone into the Kingdom of God? Perhaps you’re right, but who are we to judge?”

Sarah had no answer to that question.

“Mrs. Brandt, although I haven’t been to the mission in a long time, I do know how much Hazel loved her work there,” Mrs. Graves said. “She found ... I’m not sure how to describe it. Perhaps it was peace she found. I’d never seen her so contented, and she credited Mrs. Wells for helping her achieve that peace. This is why we’ve continued to support the work there.”

“Would you like to go down with me sometime to see it again?”

Mrs. Graves considered the offer for a moment. “Yes, after what you’ve told me, I think I’d like to see what’s going on there.”

Sarah smiled, glad that she would have an unbiased observer to help her make sense of what she’d seen there. “I’ll be going tomorrow, if you’re free.”

“I’ll make a point of it,” she said thoughtfully.

Someone touched Sarah’s arm. She turned to see one of the maids, who said, “Mrs. Wells is here, ma’am.”

 

Frank was getting tired of searching through the rat holes of the slums in the dark of night, but he supposed if he was hunting rats, he’d have to go where they were. He and his cohorts had spent the better part of two days seeking out the locations Billy had given him. Finding Danny during the daylight hours was more than he’d hoped for, and his expectations had been met. The young man was most likely out keeping an eye on his young charges while they worked the streets. The children who stole for him would require constant supervision, Frank supposed. Children could be unreliable.

Of all the places Billy had mentioned, Frank had thought the shanty under the bridge would be their best bet, and he’d been right. The earlier rain shower had driven everyone to shelter, and when they arrived after full dark, a fire still smoldered in front of the open doorway. A small child was making his way through the trash and debris carrying a growler of beer toward it. He would have purchased the tin pail of liquid refreshment at a nearby stale beer dive for a few cents. Children wouldn’t be welcome to remain in such places, so one of them would make a purchase and bring it back for the rest of them to share. When their weariness and loneliness and fear had been deadened by the alcohol, the children would sleep under the protection of their mentor.

A shout from the hovel announced the arrival of the child with the beer, and those inside spilled out to meet him, waving their tin cups eagerly. Frank watched from the shadows, waiting for the tallest figure to emerge. From this distance, Frank could tell only that the figure was the right size to be Danny. He couldn’t hear what was said, but the children fell silent and waited while he took the first ration from the growler. When he’d finished, the rest of them crowded around, jostling to be next and hardly bothering to step away before downing their portions.

Frank felt a pain and realized he was clenching his jaws in anger at the spectacle. He couldn’t have said at whom his anger was directed. Not Danny, for all he might deserve it. The boy did protect the children as well as he could, Frank supposed. And the lot of them were merely trying to survive in a world where the adults who should have cherished them had abandoned them to die. Maybe he was angry at a world where children must seek help and comfort from each other because no one cared for or about them.

“Let’s go,” he told the cops with him. He’d brought four this time, taking no chances of losing his quarry. As previously arranged, they stole away into the darkness to make a circle around the hovel. Whichever way Danny ran, someone would be there to intercept him.

The children were quarreling now over who got the dregs of beer. Some were coming to blows, while others were shrieking and pushing. The taller figure merely stood by, looking on but taking no part in the squabbling. Frank could imagine he was smiling at the confusion. He wouldn’t be smiling for long.

When he judged the other cops had had time to reach their positions, he gave the signal. “Police!” he shouted.

The children needed no other warning. Without a second’s hesitation, they fled into the night. Frank kept his eye on the tall figure, who ducked and ran in the opposite direction from his voice. Frank hurried after him, taking care not to fall over the rubble in the darkness. “He’s heading uptown,” he shouted, in case the others hadn’t seen him. The river on one side would limit the directions he could go.

“I see him!” someone shouted, and Frank turned toward the voice. By the time he got to the other side of the shanty, he could hear the sounds of a scuffle and then the familiar thump of locust wood against human flesh. The scuffle ceased.

Now, if Danny’s brains hadn’t been knocked loose, Frank would finally get some answers.

 

Sarah went downstairs to greet her guest. Mrs. Wells was waiting in the foyer with two girls. Sarah wasn’t surprised to see the glow of Maeve’s red hair in the light from the chandelier. She recognized the other girl, Gina, from her class. Both of them were dressed in white with pale blue sashes tied around their waists, making Sarah think of sacrificial virgins. They were looking around wide-eyed and slack-jawed, taking in the luxury of the Deckers’ home with an air of disbelief.

Mrs. Wells betrayed no hint that she was impressed by her surroundings. She simply waited patiently, her expression serene. Apparently, Sarah’s mother’s theory that Mrs. Wells would be intimidated by her “betters” was unfounded.

“Mrs. Wells, I’m so glad you’re here,” Sarah said. “Maeve and Gina, you both look lovely.”

The girls smiled tentatively, gratified at the compliment but still nervous and unsure of themselves.

“We appreciate your invitation, Mrs. Brandt,” Mrs. Wells said. “Although you didn’t have to send a carriage for us.”

“My mother insisted,” Sarah said. “The weather forecast was for showers, and besides, she doesn’t like the idea of ladies traveling unaccompanied in the city at night.” Sarah was aware of the irony, since she herself frequently traveled unaccompanied in the city at night. “Please come upstairs. Everyone is anxious to meet you.”

“Come along, girls,” Mrs. Wells said encouragingly when they hesitated to follow her and Sarah up the grand staircase. They exchanged an anxious glance before obeying.

When they reached the ballroom, Sarah’s parents greeted them. After introductions had been made, Mrs. Decker took charge of Mrs. Wells and proceeded to introduce her to other guests, leaving the two girls standing alone in stunned silence as they took in the grand room and the sumptuously clad guests.

“Would you girls like something to eat?” Sarah asked.

They nodded, perhaps too frightened to speak aloud, and Sarah escorted them over to the buffet table. Gina came eagerly, but Maeve displayed her usual reluctance to trust Sarah.

“Who is all this food for?” Gina asked in a whisper.

Sarah realized they’d probably never seen this much food all in one place in their lives. “It’s for the guests,” Sarah explained.

Gina glanced at the crowd and back at the table again. “They must be real hungry.”

Sarah bit back a smile and handed each of the girls a plate. “Just tell the servers what you’d like and they’ll put it on your plate for you,” she instructed.

By the time the girls had reached the end of the table, their plates were heaping with far more food than they could ever hope to eat. The servants were frowning in disapproval, but they didn’t say anything because Sarah kept giving them warning looks behind the girls’ backs. Sarah seated them at one of the small tables that had been set up at the end of the room, and took the liberty of joining them while they ate.

Mrs. Wells had taught them table manners, if not restraint, so at least they didn’t disgrace themselves. Sarah gave them a few minutes to sample their delicacies before striking up a conversation.

“Did you enjoy the carriage ride?” she asked.

Maeve looked at her suspiciously. Plainly, she was remembering how she’d snubbed Sarah at the mission, but she knew she needed to be polite to her here. She was probably trying to decide if Sarah’s friendliness was genuine or a ploy to get her in some kind of trouble as revenge.

Gina didn’t have any reason to be suspicious. “It was fancy,” she said. “And so big!” Her thick, dark hair hung in a single braid down her back, and her dark eyes were lovely in her olive-skinned face. While Maeve was bony and angular, Gina’s curves were soft and rounded.

“The driver wasn’t very nice,” Maeve reported sourly.

“He was, too!” Gina said. “He opened the door for us!”

“He kept his nose up in the air,” Maeve said. “You could see he didn’t like us.”

“Coachmen are trained to act like that,” Sarah explained. “They’re not supposed to stare at their passengers.”

“He helped us down when we got out, too,” Gina reminded Maeve. “He took my hand so I wouldn’t fall. I thought he was handsome.”

“He was ugly as a toad,” Maeve insisted.

Since the Deckers’ coachman was neither, Sarah had to smile.

“I’m just glad we come in a coach,” Gina said. “I never was in one before, and neither was you, Maeve, so don’t pretend you was!”

Maeve wasn’t going to argue the point, especially in front of Sarah, so she just glared at Gina. Sarah remembered what Opal Graves had said about sisters arguing, and had to agree the girls were behaving just like siblings. Perhaps she’d been mistaken in thinking the rivalry at the mission was more than that.

“We wanted to be sure you were safe coming here tonight,” Sarah said, deciding to raise the subject she really wanted to discuss, “after what happened to Emilia.”

Gina frowned and glanced around uneasily, as if checking to make sure no one had overheard this reference to the dead girl.

Maeve didn’t seem the least bit disturbed, however. “That won’t happen to us,” she said confidently.

“You seem very sure,” Sarah said.

“Emilia was stupid,” Maeve said.

“You just didn’t like her because she was Mrs. Wells’s favorite,” Gina accused.

“No, she wasn’t,” Maeve insisted. “Mrs. Wells just felt sorry for her!”

“Then she must feel sorry for you, too, because she gave you all of her jobs!”

“You’re just jealous because she didn’t give them to you!”

“I don’t want to watch Aggie,” Gina claimed disdainfully. “That little brat can run out in the street and get herself trampled to a lump for all I care!”

“I guess Mrs. Wells don’t know how much you hate Aggie,” Maeve observed with a sly grin, and Gina blushed scarlet.

“Everybody hates Aggie, and that includes you!” Gina claimed.

“What other jobs did Emilia have?” Sarah asked quickly, before the two girls came to blows. “Besides watching Aggie, that is.”

Maeve obviously had no intention of answering, but Gina said, “She was in charge of making all the girls get up and dressed in the morning, then she looked after them all day, so they went to their classes and to meals and didn’t sneak out. Then she checked to make sure everybody was in bed at night.”