The Big Mitt (A Detective Harm Queen Novel Book 1) (20 page)

Not only had he been baffled by the girls’ reactions to Ollie’s name being mentioned and the trickle of blood in the snow, but their answers to his detailed questions had been frustratingly vague.

Now he turned the buggy onto Cedar Avenue, trying his best to avoid the rough holes so the girls wouldn’t wake to an unpleasant bounce. He had a friend in south Minneapolis who would take care of them until he could figure out a more permanent solution to their predicament. The city was fully awake, and wagons, carriages, streetcars and people all vied for space. Gloomy winter clouds were being pushed aside for sunshine, and while normally his mood would brighten with a welcome flash of blue sky in the depth of winter, today it didn’t.

After some time to ponder, he wasn’t so sure Ollie had been kidnapped. It didn’t seem such a stretch for a carefree kid like Ollie to get bored or distracted. He’d certainly shown concern for the girls’ welfare, but he was still a boy, and frankly lived the life of a wild animal. Wandering the streets, living in abandoned boats, and running with a gang didn’t exactly instill a sense of responsibility and stability. Queen didn’t think the blood in the snow was from any life-threatening wound, either. A few droplets from a cut or a bloody nose could easily explain it away. As for the footprints, they could have been from anyone. When he had time, he would go back for a visit with McCartan to see if Ollie had surfaced. Ollie might even be with him now, plying more newspapers, or maybe at his hideout with his friends. Possibly even back home with his mother and brother. It wasn’t to say that this mysterious figure Trilly talked about didn’t worry him more than a little. But with no name or information, following up on that lead seemed like a long and twisting road, especially as he wasn’t convinced Ollie wasn’t holed up somewhere safe.

As they continued south, the street lost its pavement and turned to dirt. Buildings were no longer packed together and the sky broadened in front of him. The air was fresher too, and he breathed it in, a welcome change from the thick city smoke behind them.

He turned onto 42nd Street at a grove of poplar trees, and the quality of the road decreased considerably. The buggy ride became a series of jolts and lurches. The girls awoke, rubbed their eyes and moved to the windows, entranced by the sun-lit, rural surroundings. Queen could only imagine how long it had been since they’d been out of the city and sensed quietness. This would be a good place to give them some rest, and he completely trusted the man he was about to deliver them to.

The detective pulled the horses to a halt, climbed down from his seat, and opened the buggy’s door. Again, he gave each girl his hand, and again he felt a tingle when he touched Trilly’s soft fingers. Whether she also felt it, he couldn’t be sure, but she was smiling as she stepped down. Edna’s eyes were still wide and afraid, and she scanned her new surroundings with apprehension. Queen had yet to try questioning her with any vigor. He wanted to be sensitive to her recent trauma, but also began to wonder if she’d experienced too much suffering to endure the world around her. His attempts to speak with her were met by a face that tensed up to the point of rupture. He made a note to have a doctor visit, to check not just their general health, but Edna’s odd behavior in particular.

They had stopped in front of a one-and-a-half story house. Its front door was flanked by modest windows, with an attic window at the peak. It was built of wood and surrounded by a dirt yard, patched with snow. Out the door came Queen’s friend Peder Ulland, beaming happily, his blond hair thinning and his head bare to the cold air. The door banged shut behind him as he strode forward.

“Dat fella isn’t boddering you, is he?” Ulland called to Trilly. She looked up, smiled, and shook her head. Queen and his friend shook hands vigorously.

Queen and Peder Ulland were about as unlikely a pair of friends as he could imagine. The Norwegian was truly kind and selfless, a far, far stretch from the greedy backroom wheeler-dealers and immoral riff-raff Queen was forced to deal with as his daily routine.

The two of them had met ten years ago, when Peder, working as a trade union leader, and had helped organize against John Pillsbury and his B Flour Mill. Objections by workers over abuse by an unpopular foreman named William Horner had set the Packers and Nailers union to strike. To build their case, Peder had hired Queen to investigate Horner’s background. In 1891, Queen had been between salaried jobs, and with a partner ran a private Minneapolis detective agency. Eager for work, Queen had dived headlong into the job, and had uncovered some unflattering facts about Horner’s past: enough information to resolve the issue two weeks later, when Horner was transferred to the A Flour Mill and the union was satisfied. From that point on, Queen and the Norwegian had built on their friendship, each getting something from the other that was missing from his own life. Queen thought Peder, deep inside, enjoyed the company of a scoundrel, and even lived a bit vicariously through the detective’s crime-fighting stories. For Queen, it was simple. Peder, and especially his sister Karoline, calmed him and made him feel normal. And nothing was better at untying the knot of frustration and anger that perpetually twisted in his stomach than Karoline’s sweet, generous spirit.

“You don’t know how you’re helping me out, Peder,” Queen said. “I owe you a big debt on this.”

“Vell, you’ve helped me out more times den I’ve helped you,” he replied, placing a hand on each of Queen’s shoulders. “I’m pleased you’ve brought dem here, Harm.” He looked at the girls, and then back at Queen with a sly grin. “I know you’ve got a big heart underneat dat hard frame, but you vouldn’t be doing dis for any odder reason, vould you be?”

Queen frowned slightly. “What are you implying, Ulland?”

Peder threw back his head and laughed. “Never mind. You’re doing the right thing, and I’m pleased to see it. I’ll make you vun of us yet.”

“A member of the Socialist party?” asked Queen. “We’ve debated this before. I don’t involve myself in politics.” Unless they’re a means to a personal end, he thought.

“Harm, I’m not a Socialist, although I must admit I sympathize vit dere cause. By one of us, I mean an organizer. Dere are plenty of trade unions and charities who could use a sympathetic ear vit da new mayor, and dat could be you.”

“Peder, outside of my friendship with you and your family, I have no interest in pitting myself on one side or another of these issues. My job is to solve crimes and keep the peace. Not laying my head on Jim Hill’s main line for a chance meeting with a locomotive.”

“My vork is yust as important as yours, Harm. Immigrants are being abused every day in dis city. Vimmen and children are de biggest victims and suffer far vorse den you or I.” Peder took a breath and wiped a bit of saliva from the corner of his mouth, which always formed when he was adamantly arguing his cause. “Ve need to create a permanent place vere dey can go to escape from dere miseries. Have you heard of Jane Addams in Chicago? I visited her Hull House last year and vas impressed at da vork she’s doing vit da poor.”

“Do you have time for that?” Queen asked with a little smirk. “Aren’t you busy already with all the Norwegians moving into Minneapolis?”

“Ya sure, of course. Lots of ‘dem, for sure. Danes and Swedes too. Most of dem don’t speak a vord of English ven dey arrive. Dey need yobs and a place to hang dere hats, and I try to help as best I can.”

The girls had moved closer to them during their conversation, and Trilly took her opportunity to speak. “We’re to stay here?” she asked.

“Yes, miss, my humble home. Velkommen.”

She looked warily at Queen, and then back at Peder. “No offense, Mister, you seem like a nice enough fella, but we just came from a house not much smaller than this, trapped with a love-starved louse. Frankly, I’ve had about enough of an arrangement like that.”

Peder bowed slightly, smiling gently. “I vork in Dania Hall. Dat’s vere my office is, vere I help young ladies and many odders get back on dere feet like you. Dat’s vere I’ll stay ven you’re here, so don’t vorry. I’ve got a comfortable little cot to sleep on for myself. My sister vill get you vot you need.”

“Karoline is here?” Queen said with surprise. He felt his face warm at her name. “I thought she was back in Norway.”

“She vas on her way, as far as New York, but she decided to return,” Peder said. “She heard about the vinter cholera epidemic and vanted to assist.”

“Where is she now?” Queen said, more quickly than he should have. Trilly looked at him with a bemused expression and a slightly cocked head. “I mean, it would be a smart thing to have her here to see to their needs,” he continued. “She’s had experience in these situations.”

“What kind of situations?” Trilly asked combatively. “Seeing after sad little whores? Well, let me tell you, Mr. Queen, that I don’t need a caretaker to watch me! I may have had some troubles in my life, but that don’t make me no degenerate!” She gritted her teeth and looked at him defiantly, but her fierceness seemed to make her only more beautiful. He wanted to tell her how scandalous it would be if she used that language within earshot of regular society, but he didn’t have the heart to do it. He doubted that Peder cared, and frankly he was used to much worse, but it was still jarring to his ears from the mouth of a woman.

Peder looked amused. “Karoline vill be back in da afternoon. Let me take you to vere you vill be sleeping.” He turned to Trilly and Edna. “Ve can pour a hot bath for you too, if you’d like.”

Edna nodded her head emphatically, and reached for Trilly’s hand.

“Do you have any bags to carry in?” Peder asked. The girls shook their heads.

“You vant to stay for some coffee, Harm? You can vait for Karoline if you vant to.”

“Thanks, but no,” he said. He suddenly felt very odd, talking about Karoline in front of Trilly. “This rig is rented, and I have to get it back, and I’ve got lots of work to do. Give her my regards, and tell her I’ll call on her in a couple of days. We can catch up then.”

“Ya, vell sure, Harm. If you need to talk to me, you know vere to find me, too.” Peder motioned for the girls to follow him, but Harm put his hand gently on Trilly’s shoulder.

“Can I speak to you for a moment before you go in?” he asked her.

“Sure,” she said, giving Edna a tender push towards Peder. “Go on, I’ll be right there.”

Edna nodded, seemingly comforted, and silently walked to the house.

“Let’s talk over here,” he said to Trilly, and led her to the buggy.

“What the hell are you going to do? Profess your undying love to me?” she laughed.

“N-n-no,” Queen stammered. He put his hand in his pocket and touched the tip of the stickpin. He had decided not to give it back to Adry, at least not yet. He pushed it into his finger and the prick brought him back to focus. “I don’t think that would be appropriate,” he managed.

“I’m only joshing!” she laughed. Then she suddenly narrowed her eyes, a glint of suspicion igniting. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “I just wanted to confirm what you saw the night of Maisy’s murder. You watched Pock kill her? You saw it? You’re sure of it?”

“Yes, like I already said. Dander was there, too, and he talked to Maisy before it happened. But my window was shut and I couldn’t hear what they said. I saw Pock put up his gun, the long one. What do you call it?”

“A rifle.”

“Yeah. Point the rifle at her and shoot.”

“Do you think Dander might have given him an order?”

“How the hell should I know? Do I look like a Davenport brother? I ain’t no medium or nothin’. Go ask one of them famous ones, if you’re so inclined.”

“So you don’t know if it was planned. Only that Pock raised his gun and shot her off the fence.”

“Yeah, that’s what I saw.”

“Would you testify to that in court? If it should come to it?”

“If it means a final end to your goddamn questions, I’d say so.”

“Fine. Thank you.” His words were curt, although he wanted them to come out softer. She was riled now, her cheeks red with excitement, and he wished their parting might be more amicable, but he didn’t know how to make it so.

“I’ll come back around in two days, to see how you’re doing,” he finally said.

“Yeah, I heard that from before.”

“Right.” He suddenly thought of something, and reaching into his pocket, pulled out a roll of bills, counted out three dollars, and held them out to her. “You and Edna need new clothes. Something respectable. Take this. Tell Karoline your size, and she can buy some for you when she has time.”

“I got cush. Right here.” She pulled a small purse from underneath a fold of her dress. “It was the least that asshole Adry Hayward could do after what he got from us.”

“Well, you can have this too.”

“For what?” Trilly steamed. “So you and this Karoline woman play father and mother to us? Have a laugh over how you cleaned up a couple of whores and tried to make them look respectable? Well to hell with you, Detective Queen!” She took the money from his hand, and tossed it into the air. Queen stood dumbfounded, not knowing what to say. Then she crossed her arms, threw up her nose and stormed toward the house. Peder met her at the doorway with a smile, but she pushed passed him and out of sight. His friend waved meekly at Queen, shrugged and closed the door.

Is it too early for a drink, or a goddamn dozen? Queen picked up the wet bills, folded them and put them back into his pocket. He uttered a sigh so low and forlorn that he surprised even himself.