Murder on Sisters' Row (7 page)

As everyone took a seat, Mrs. Van Orner greeted them and thanked them for coming. Miss Yingling, Sarah noticed, pulled her chair slightly away from the desk. She sat down and balanced a small notebook on her knee, apparently prepared to take notes of some kind.

“Mrs. Brandt, have you met everyone?”

Sarah could smell the peppermint on her breath. “Yes, I have.”

“Then let’s begin by asking you to tell your story once again, so Mrs. Spratt-Williams and the gentlemen know the situation.”

Sarah started at the beginning, when Jake had come to fetch her. Mrs. Van Orner and the others stopped her occasionally to ask a clarifying question. They wanted to know every detail, including her impressions of each of the people she had encountered at the house. Mrs. Van Orner produced paper and a pencil and asked Sarah to sketch out the floor plan of the house showing the location of outside doors, Amy’s room, and Mrs. Walker’s office.

When she was finally finished and had answered all of their questions, Sarah sat back and studied the faces of each person gathered around the desk. Miss Yingling continued to scribble in her notebook. The others exchanged glances, silently communicating as good friends often do.

After a long moment, Mrs. Van Orner said, “I believe this Jake person will present the greatest obstacle.”

“Yes,” Mr. Porter agreed. “If we can get rid of him, we shouldn’t have too much difficulty.”

Mrs. Spratt-Williams turned to Sarah. “You’re going to get the baby tomorrow, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

Mrs. Spratt-Williams turned back to Mrs. Van Orner. “She could ask this Jake to drive her home in the carriage. She’ll be carrying the baby, so this would seem like a logical request.”

“I wasn’t going to take the baby to my home,” Sarah said. “There’s a mission on—”

“Your destination doesn’t matter,” Mrs. Van Orner said, “so long as you make sure he takes you in the carriage and is gone at least an hour.”

“That’s an excellent plan. As soon as they are out of sight, we can act,” Mr. Porter said.

“I’m sure the cook, Beulah, will offer resistance,” Sarah said.

“I’ll go to the front door and ring the bell, the way I did the last time we tried a rescue,” Mr. Quimby said. “She’ll go to answer it, and while she’s doing that, Mr. Porter and Mrs. Van Orner will enter through the back door and go up the stairs to Amy’s room.”

“What shall I do?” Mrs. Spratt-Williams asked almost eagerly.

“You’ll wait in the carriage and be ready to cause a distraction if anyone takes notice of what we’re doing,” Mrs. Van Orner said.

This assignment didn’t please Mrs. Spratt-Williams. “But I could help you in the house. If some of the other women wake up—”

“You’ll be a tremendous help to us out in the carriage, Tonya,” Mrs. Van Orner said a little too sharply. She saw Mrs. Spratt-Williams’s hand tighten into a fist, the only outward sign of her true reaction.

“What about the other women in the house?” Sarah asked quickly to distract them.

“We’ll go early in the morning, while the household is still asleep,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams said. “If all goes well, they may never know we were there.”

“I mean, what if some of them want to be rescued, too?”

Sarah felt their resistance to this like a physical force. They exchanged glances again, their expressions grim.

Mrs. Van Orner cleared her throat. “Then they will have to make themselves known to us.”

“But if they’re asleep and they don’t even know you’re coming or why you’re there—”

“Mrs. Brandt,” Mr. Porter said kindly, “the truth is that it’s unlikely any of these women will want to be rescued, even if they know why we have come.”

“And they’re
very
likely to stop us from taking Amy if they have the chance,” Mr. Quimby said. “The last time we attempted a rescue in a brothel, the women themselves drove us away before we could locate the one we’d come for.”

“Good heavens!”

“So you see,” Mrs. Van Orner said, “if we hope to rescue this Amy, we can’t risk alarming the other women or we may not even be able to get her out.”

“I know it’s disappointing,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams said, reaching over to pat Sarah’s hand. She’d obviously forgotten her own earlier frustration. “We’d like to save them all, but we must be content to do what we can.”

Sarah knew that feeling only too well from her volunteer work at the Daughters of Hope Mission. “Shall I tell Amy you’re coming when I get the baby?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mrs. Van Orner said. “She might say or do something to give it away.”

“They may not even allow you to see her again, in any case,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams added. “They might be afraid she’ll get hysterical if she sees you taking the baby away.”

“You must be prepared for anything,” Mr. Porter added. “One never knows how these people will behave. They might not give you the baby after all, or the girl might change her mind at the last minute and refuse to go at all.”

Mr. Quimby nodded vigorously. “Yes, indeed, we’ve seen that happen, haven’t we?”

Sarah gazed at them in dismay. “Then I suppose I should ask what I should do if Jake won’t take me in the carriage?”

“You should do nothing,” Mrs. Van Orner said. “Simply take the baby away, if they do give him to you. Let us worry about Jake.”

 

 

S
ARAH FELT DISTRACTED AND IRRITABLE THE REST OF the day. Even spending time with Catherine and Maeve couldn’t keep her mind off what was going to happen the next morning. Maeve asked her several times if she was all right, and she’d lied and said yes, she was fine. She went to bed early, wanting to get a good night’s sleep, and then lay awake most of the night, too tense to rest.

“What’s going on?” Maeve asked her after breakfast, when Catherine had gone upstairs to play.

“Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Well, I
am
worried, and whatever it is can’t be worse than I’m imagining, so just tell me so I’ll know!”

“I’m so sorry! I was just trying to spare you, but I see I’ve done just the opposite. I’m going to a brothel this morning to take the baby I delivered last week from his mother.”

Maeve’s mouth dropped open. “Dear heaven! What were you doing delivering a baby in a brothel? And why are you taking it away?”

Sarah quickly explained what had happened and how Mrs. Van Orner and her friends were going to help Amy escape.

“Does Mr. Malloy know about this?” Maeve asked with a frown.

Sarah hated the heat that rose in her face. “Of course not, and he won’t ever hear about it either.”

“Do you know how dangerous this is?”

“Not for me. The madam expects me to come and take the baby this morning. I’ll be perfectly safe, and nothing else is going to happen until after I’m gone.”

“Will you bring the baby here?”

“No, I don’t want you and Catherine involved in this at all. I’ll take him to the Mission, but only for a few hours. Mrs. Van Orner has a house in the city where these women can stay, and as soon as Amy is safely there, I’ll take the baby to her.”

“You’d better get him away faster than that. Jake will know where the baby is because he took you there, and they’ll probably try to get the baby to force Amy to go back to the brothel.”

“Oh, my, I never thought of that.”

Maeve gave her a pitying glance. “Of course you didn’t, because you’re a good person. As soon as Jake drops you off, you need to go right back out again. Go straight to this house where they’re taking the girl. That’s the safest thing.”

“You’re right. I’ll do that.”

“And don’t say a word to Amy about them coming to get her. She’ll never be able to keep it a secret. She’s probably told half the girls in the house already anyway.”

“They warned me not to tell her, but how can I just leave her there without any hope?”

“It’s only for a little while. Better she doesn’t have any hope than Catherine doesn’t have any mother.”

Sarah scowled at her, but Maeve ignored it.

“You know I’m right.”

“Yes, I do. Thank you, Maeve, for giving me very good advice.”

Maeve rolled her eyes. “Just be sure you take it.”

 

 

S
ARAH WALKED ALL THE WAY TO SISTERS’ ROW, HOPING the exercise would help her burn off some of the tension she’d been feeling all night. By the time she reached the house on Twenty-fifth Street, she felt calm enough to carry out her mission. At least she hoped she was.

As she had before, she approached the house from the rear. She looked around, but saw no sign that she was observed or that the rescue party was anywhere nearby.

Beulah answered her knock. The cook looked her up and down. “I told Mrs. Walker you’d come. She didn’t think you would.”

Sarah stepped into the kitchen. “I hope she hasn’t changed her mind about letting me take the baby.”

“He’s still here. That’s all I know. You stay right here. I’ll get Mrs. Walker.”

“I’d like to check on Amy.”

Beulah glared at her through narrowed eyes. “You stay right here,” she repeated sternly.

Sarah decided she’d best obey. She didn’t want to antagonize anyone and fail to get the baby away. While she waited, she listened for any sounds of activity, but she heard nothing. The stillness was almost eerie, as if the very house itself was sleeping.

In a few moments, Beulah returned and told her Mrs. Walker wanted to see her.

This morning, Mrs. Walker was in her nightdress and robe, with her hair still braided for sleep. Her heavy eyelids and creased face told Sarah that Beulah had awakened her.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I thought I should come before the other girls were awake.”

“I wish you’d waited until
I
was awake,” Mrs. Walker said, “but you’re right. There’s no sense in getting everybody stirred up.”

“I’d like to see Amy, to make sure she’s doing well.”

“She’s doing fine, and if she sees you, she’ll know why you’re here. I don’t want her upset.”

“She’ll be upset when she finds out the baby is gone.”

“Yes, but it’ll be too late then, and she’ll get over it quick enough.”

Sarah wondered if a woman could ever get over the loss of her baby, but she didn’t dare express her doubt to Mrs. Walker. She had to avoid antagonizing her at all costs. “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of. You can tell Amy that.”

“I’ll tell her what I please,” Mrs. Walker said. “And I hope never to see your face again.”

Sarah hoped the same thing.

The office door opened, and Beulah came in, carrying a small bundle. “He’s sleeping like a lamb.”

“What did you tell Amy?” Mrs. Walker asked.

“Nothing. She’s sound asleep, too.”

“Good.”

Beulah handed the infant to Sarah. A wave of tenderness swept over her as she gazed down into his sweet face.

“You can go now,” Mrs. Walker said. “And be quick.”

Sarah had almost forgotten the most important part of her task. “Oh, dear, I was wondering, could your man Jake take me in the carriage? It’s a long walk to where I’m taking him, you see, and—”

Mrs. Walker muttered something under her breath, but she said, “Beulah, go wake Jake up and have him take her wherever she wants to go. But take her with you. She can wait in the stable. I don’t want Amy to wake up and have the baby still in the house.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Walker,” Sarah began, but the woman waved her off.

“Get out of here.”

Sarah obediently followed Beulah out, onto the back porch, through the yard, across the alley, and into the stable. She waited just inside the door, holding the tiny, almost weightless bundle, while Beulah went up the stairs to what was apparently Jake’s quarters over the stable. She heard some loud grumbling and a lot of thumping around, but in a few minutes, Beulah came down the stairs with a groggy and furious Jake behind her. He was still buttoning the jacket of his uniform, and he glared at Sarah.

“I’m very sorry,” Sarah said, trying to sound sincere, “but you were the one who told me to come early in the day.”

He made a rude noise, and silently went about the task of harnessing the matching horses to the carriage.

Beulah came over to Sarah and, using one finger, pushed the blanket back from the baby’s face so she could take one last look. “Good luck to you, boy. You’ll need it.” She stepped back. “You really think somebody’ll adopt him?”

“It’s possible.”

Beulah shook her head. “But not likely. You’re doing a good thing, though, getting him away from here. That’s a start.”

Sarah tried to think of an appropriate response, but before she could, Beulah turned and walked away. She didn’t look back.

Jake wasted no time getting the horses hitched, moving with practiced ease in spite of his groggy state. When he was finished, he moved to the carriage door and held it open for Sarah, indicating with a wave of his hand that she could enter. He made no effort to assist her, though, crossing his arms in silent rebellion against good manners.

Sarah struggled a bit climbing in with the babe in her arms, but she managed. When she was settled, he said, “Where do you want to go?”

“To the Mission, the same place you took me last time.”

His expression told her he thought this was crazy, but he slammed the door shut and climbed up to the driver’s seat. Sarah hastily opened the curtains at the windows in hopes of seeing some indication that the rescuers were nearby and waiting. At least they would see her and know she’d gotten away. She even held the baby high against her chest, so the bundle he made would be visible. As they turned onto Seventh Street, she saw a shabby carriage stopped on the next block, its driver slumped over as if drunk or sleeping. Could that be them?

Her carriage started down the street, and she caught a glimpse of a gentleman strolling leisurely on the opposite sidewalk, a walking stick in his hand. She recognized him. Mr. Quimby. She held the baby up even higher, so he’d know she had him. He didn’t seem to take any notice, and then they were gone, rattling away. Sarah lowered the baby to her lap and sank back against the cushions and started to pray.