For the Love of Mike (27 page)

“It wasn’t deliberate then?”

“No, of course not.”

“But I thought Mostel was responsible for Katherine’s disappearance?”

Katherine—I had forgotten all about her. I looked around and saw her sitting on a doorstep, all alone, looking as shocked and bewildered as I had been. I took Jacob’s hand.

“Over here,” I said. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

She rose to her feet as we approached her.

“Jacob,” I said. “This is Katherine.”

Twenty-six

K
atherine?” Jacob looked from her face to mine. “You found her? You mean she didn’t drown then?”

“Obviously not.”

“Why did you think I had drowned?” Katherine asked.

Spray from fire hoses and flying particles from the fire coated us in a sooty rain.

“The police told us that a woman resembling your picture had been pulled from the East River,” I said.

“My picture? How did you get my picture?” She looked completely bewildered.

“Your father sent it to me,” I said. “I am an investigator. He hired me to track you down.”

The bewilderment was replaced by a look of utter horror. “Then you weren’t—I mean, we thought the woman who—”

“The young woman who discovered you?” I said, suddenly putting the pieces together. “Her name was Nell Blankenship. She was trying to find out what happened to you after you disappeared from Mostel’s. We suspected foul play, you see.” As I spoke it was my turn to go cold all over. I had just taken in the implication of her words. “You thought she was the detective,” I said.

She nodded. “We got word from Michael’s cousin who also worked for my father that a woman detective had been dispatched to find us. Naturally we thought . . .”

“So you killed her?” I demanded angrily.

“Not me. Of course not.”

“The Eastmans then.”

She shook her head, a look of bleak despair on her face. “Not the Eastmans. The man I married, Michael Kelly.”

Jacob forced his way through the crowd, stepped out into the street, and flagged down a cab. The driver looked at us in horror. “You’re not thinking of putting them young ladies on my clean seat, are you?” he asked.

“They’ve just been rescued from the fire,” Jacob said. “Surely you don’t want them to have to walk home in their condition. What if they were your own daughters?” He reached into his pocket. “There will be an extra dollar to aid with the cleanup,” he said.

The cabby’s eyes widened as Jacob produced the dollar bill. “You’re right, sir. We couldn’t expect them to walk in their condition, could we?” he said with a grin. Jacob opened the door and bundled us inside. As we drove away I glanced out of the window and again I thought I caught a glimpse of Daniel’s face in the crowd.

The cab made its way slowly through the great crush of people. I looked back but Daniel’s face had gone. I turned back to Katherine, who was sitting tight-lipped, staring straight ahead of her.

“You say that Michael was the one who killed Nell Blankenship? Couldn’t you have stopped him?” I asked as the cab got up speed and turned into the Bowery.

“I had no idea.” She hugged her arms to herself, shivering. “My God, don’t you think I would have stopped him if I had known what he was going to do? She found out where we were hiding. Michael had done some work for the Eastmans, so they let us hide out in a shed behind their headquarters. This woman came and she asked questions about me. Mike thought that—” She bit her lip, looking younger and more fragile than her photograph. “He said he’d take care of her. I never dreamed . . . then he came back and told me he’d killed her by mistake and we’d have to stay hidden until we could make a run for it and go out West where they’d never find us.”

“What I don’t understand,” Jacob said, “is why it was so terrible that the detective found you? You are a married woman, after all. Your parents might be annoyed but legally there is not much they can do.”

Katherine sank her head into her hands. “You don’t know the half of it,” she said.

“Don’t worry about that now,” I said. “I’ll hide you where you’ll be safe.”

The cab driver reined in his horse and poked his head down to us. “Patchin Place did you say, sir? I don’t want to take the horse all the way down, on account of how it’s hard to back him up again.”

“That’s fine. We can walk a few yards,” I said.

Jacob jumped down first and handed us down from the cab. Katherine looked around her. “This is nice,” she said. “It reminds me of London. Quite different from the New York I have seen up to now.”

We walked the length of Patchin Place and stopped outside Number Nine. I knocked on the front door. Sid opened it, looked at me, then her jaw dropped open.

“Molly—what in God’s name have you been doing to yourself?”

I had quite forgotten that I had no skirt or petticoat on, that I was dirty and covered in soot. Katherine didn’t look much better.

“We were in a fire,” I said. “We got trapped and we had to climb out over the rooftops.”

“Mercy me.” For once Sid sounded less sophisticated than usual. “Come inside, do. I’ll find the brandy and I’ll get Gus to run you a hot bath. What an awful experience for you.”

Her eyes moved past me to Jacob and Katherine. “You were in the fire too?”

“Katherine was. I was merely the comforting shoulder afterward,” Jacob said.

“Katherine?” Sid’s eyes opened wide. “
The
Katherine?”

“
The
Katherine.”

“But I thought she had drowned.”

“Does everyone in New York know about me?” Katherine asked, uncertainly.

“Only my very closest friends,” I said. I looked up at Sid. “I want to ask you a favor.”

“Other than a hot bath and a good meal?”

“I want to ask you to hide Katherine for a few days. Her husband is trying to find her and that would not be a good idea.”

“Then for God’s sake don’t stand there on the doorstep. Get inside.” Sid grabbed at Katherine’s shoulder and yanked her into the house. “Gus, dearest,” she called, “you’ll never believe who has come to visit!”

Gus came running down the stairs, wearing a painter’s smock, brandishing a paintbrush and with a smudge of orange on her nose.

“Molly, what on earth have you been doing to yourself? Are you making a protest against the wearing of skirts, a la bloomer?”

“I had to abandon it in a fire,” I said.

“When she jumped from rooftop to rooftop,” Katherine said. “She was fearless.”

Gus’s gaze turned to Katherine.

“This is Katherine,” I said.

“The Katherine,” Sid added.

“Resurrected from the dead?” Gus asked.

“Never died in the first place. Went underground. Wicked husband,” Sid said. “Wants us to hide her.”

I smiled at Sid’s succinct account. That pretty much summed it up.

“Well of course we’ll hide her, but let’s clean her up first,” Gus said.

“May I suggest brandy for shock first,” Jacob said.

“Oh, Mr. Singer. I didn’t notice you standing there,” Gus said. “Were you part of this amazing exploit?”

“He was there at the fire, looking for me, worried sick,” I said.

“You can’t imagine how powerless and wretched I felt, watching the building go up in flames and being kept away by the fire crews,” Jacob said. “And then she was one of the last girls to come down from the next building. I don’t ever want to go through that again.”

“He wants to marry me,” I said in response to Sid’s raised eyebrow.

“And do you want to marry him?” Sid’s voice sounded sharp. “Not that I am against the principle of marriage for the rest of the world, but . . .”

“I think I might,” I said, smiling shyly at Jacob.

“Could do worse, I suppose.” Sid gave Jacob an appraising glance. “At least he won’t try to put you into a glass case like a stuffed bird.”

“I don’t know about that.” Jacob laughed. “It may well be the only way of keeping her out of trouble.”

“You do have a point there,” Gus agreed. “She does seem to attract trouble, I’ll agree. Molly dearest, you haven’t told us how you came to be involved in a fire in the first place.”

We sat at the kitchen table, sipping brandy, while I told the whole story of the fire.

“I must be confused, but I don’t quite see how Katherine comes into a fire at Mostel’s. I thought she left there weeks ago,” Gus said.

“I ran away from Michael and Sadie hid me in Mostel’s attic,” Katherine said.

“You ran away from your husband because he ill-treated you?”

“No, he didn’t ill-treat me, but I couldn’t stay with a coldblooded murderer.” She filled in the gaps, including what she knew about Nell’s murder. It can’t have been easy for her and Sid and Gus nodded with sympathy.

“One thing I don’t understand,” Sid said. “If you were married, then there’s nothing much your father could have done about it, is there? He couldn’t have forced you to come home.”

“I asked that same question,” Jacob said.

Katherine sighed. “I lied about my age. I lied about almost everything to get married. For all I know the marriage isn’t valid at all. But it wasn’t myself we were worried about, it was Michael. I knew he was with the freedom fighters in Ireland and that was one of the things that made him attractive to me. I thought it was wonderful to be passionate about a just cause. I mean, we English really have no right to rule Ireland, do we?”

She looked at me as if wanting my personal forgiveness.

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “You were born to it. You didn’t choose it.”

“Go on about Michael,” Sid said. “You say he was a freedom fighter.”

“I knew that he loved danger, but I thought that he was also noble and good. After I married him I found out that he loved violence. He had killed a police officer when the police tried to break up a demonstration. He was proud of it. And I found out something else too—he only married me as a way of getting his hands on some money and leaving Ireland in a hurry.” She put her hands over her mouth and sat fighting with emotion for a moment, then composed herself again. “I have been such a fool,” she said.

“So Michael was scared that he could be sent back to Ireland to stand trial for killing a policeman,” I said.

“Of course. And then this second killing. I couldn’t abide it any longer.”

“So you ran away from him.”

“Not at first,” she said. “He told me that I’d be an accessory to the murder. He’d tell everyone that it was my idea and that I had egged him on, so I’d hang with him. I didn’t know what to do. Then—then something else happened.”

“Another murder?” I asked.

“In a way,” she said. “One of the reasons I agreed to marry Michael and flee to America with him was because I was expecting his child. I knew how ashamed my parents would be and I couldn’t face them. After Michael killed that young woman, I miscarried. It was awful—and you know what Michael said when it was all over? He said, ‘Well at least that’s one stroke of luck, isn’t it? Now we won’t be saddled with a brat.’ ” She gave a big, shuddering sigh. “I had just lost my baby.”

Without warning she began to cry, hiding her face in her hands before mastering herself again. “I promised myself I wouldn’t give in to self-pity,” she said.

I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Katherine, you’ll be safe now,” I said.

“You’re going to turn me over to my father.”

“You don’t want to go home?”

“No, of course not,” she said. “I hated that life—the boredom was awful. Hunting and parties and then over to London for more parties and inane chatter. I don’t ever want to go back to that.”

“Your parents are very worried about you. I understand your mother is an invalid.”

“When it suits her,” Katherine said. “So will you tell my father?”

“Your father is my client,” I said. “I shall have to write and tell him that I’ve found you, safe and sound. What you do after that is up to you, although I beg you to write to them yourself and ask for their forgiveness.”

“It sounds to me that the marriage wasn’t legal,” Jacob said. “And if you’re underage, they could demand that you come back to them.”

“Then I shall go somewhere where they can’t find me until I turn twenty-one. I shall be quite a rich woman then.”

“How will you manage until then?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t think about that now. My concern at this moment is that Michael doesn’t find me. I know he’s been looking for me.”

“He still loves you then?” Gus asked.

“I doubt if he ever loved me. He wants me with him for his own protection. I am a bartering tool—not much more.”

“You should tell the police what you know about Michael,” Jacob said.

“Turn in my own husband, you mean?” She shook her head. “I can’t do that. However he has behaved toward me, I really loved him. I believed him when he said he loved me. I was carrying his child. I can’t betray him now.”