Murder on St. Mark's Place (15 page)

When she looked up, Mrs. Elsworth was waiting expectantly. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Elsworth. This is a very important message. I wouldn’t have wanted to miss receiving it.”

“I hope its being late didn’t do any damage,” she said with a worried frown.

“None at all,” Sarah assured her. “Thank you so much for delivering it. You’ve been a big help.”

Sarah was trying to dismiss her, but she didn’t want to be dismissed. She wanted to know what they were talking about, and she kept trying see what was on the papers scattered over Sarah’s table.

“We don’t want to keep you from anything, Mrs. Elsworth,” Malloy said. His tone was unmistakable. He wanted her gone.

Her face fell, making Sarah sorry. Mrs. Elsworth was lonely, and her life held little pleasure and absolutely no excitement. Sharing Sarah’s life was one of her few enjoyments. But Sarah couldn’t share this part of it. “If I don’t get a call tomorrow, perhaps you’ll come over for lunch,” she suggested, softening the rejection.

That seemed to placate her somewhat. “I’ll make a pie,” she offered. “I’ll go to the market first thing tomorrow and see what fruit they have. Good night, Detective Sergeant. Such a pleasure to see you again.”

Malloy did not return the compliment. He waited a few minutes after the gate had closed behind her to say, “Let me see the note.”

The message was brief. Plainly, Lisle wasn’t used to writing formal letters. She had seen George at Harmony Hall the previous night and had come by before going to her job at Faircloths this morning to let Sarah know.

“She says she told him to meet her again tonight,” Sarah said. “There’s a dance at the same place.”

“Do they have dances every night?” Malloy asked, unable to comprehend such a thing.

“It appears they do. And that’s just one hall. There are others all over the city.”

Malloy looked up from the note. “You think this George is the killer, don’t you?”

Sarah hoped he was. She wanted the killer caught quickly, before he could harm anyone else. “I think he may know something,” she allowed. “He was angry because Gerda had taken up with another man. Maybe he knows who that man was, at least.”

Malloy sighed. “I suppose you want to go out right now and find him.”

Sarah smiled sweetly. “Oh, no. The dance won’t start for at least another hour.”

 

“
Y
OU CAN’T GO in with me, you know,” Sarah said as they approached Harmony Hall. The usual assortment of flashily dressed young men were gathered on the walk at the bottom of the steps, surveying the young women as they arrived.

Malloy cast her an impatient glance. “How am I supposed to question this George fellow if I don’t?”

“I’m not sure. I think perhaps we should get Lisle to lure him outside. In any case, he can’t see you first. I’m afraid you’re just too intimidating, Malloy, and besides, you don’t look like you belong in a place like this. You’ll frighten away all the patrons.”

He looked like he was going to argue with her, but just then the fellows lingering outside the dance hall got a look at Malloy, and they scattered like pigeons, ducking and dodging in every direction.

Malloy frowned, and Sarah said smugly, “You see what I mean? You just look too much like a policeman. You frighten people.”

“Only people with something to hide,” Malloy argued.

“Maybe this George has something to hide.”

Malloy grunted his acceptance.

When they reached the stairs up to the dance hall, Sarah looked around the neighborhood. “We need to decide where we’ll meet you.”

“We?”
he asked. “I thought this Lisle girl was going to bring him out. And don’t expect to stand around and watch me question this George fellow. You don’t have the stomach for it.”

Sarah could have argued that point. She’d seen people die in hideous ways during her years of nursing and midwifery, so her stomach was quite strong. But he probably wasn’t talking about that sort of thing. She wouldn’t approve of his tactics, which she imagined could be quite violent if necessary. If so, then he was right, she didn’t have the stomach for it.

“What kind of a place do you need for your interrogation?” she asked. “Is an alley all right?”

“Anyplace out of sight,” he replied, also scanning the area for an appropriate spot. “I’ll wait in the bar across the street. I’ll sit near the front window so I can see them come out.”

“You don’t know what they look like,” Sarah reminded him. “I’ll come out just before or just after them and catch your eye. Then we can follow them until you see a suitable place to ... to do whatever you need to do.”

Malloy didn’t like accepting her plan, but it made so much sense, he couldn’t argue with it. “All right, but don’t think you’re going to watch me question him.”

Sarah smiled sweetly, then started up the stairs to the dance hall. The music was loud and discordant, and the hall was already crowded and smoky and unbearably hot. The bouncer took her admission fee, but his expression told her he found her presence in a place like this very strange indeed.

Sarah took a moment to allow her eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness of the hall. Then she was able to find Lisle and the other girls sitting at a table on the other side of the room. She made her way over to them, drawing curious glances as she moved through the crowd. Feeling conspicuously out of place, Sarah finally reached the table where Lisle, Hetty, and Bertha sat.

Hetty and Bertha were looking grim, and Lisle was smoking furiously on a cigarette. Sarah noticed her hand was less than steady when she brought it to her lips to take a drag.

“You shouldn’t’ve made her do this,” Hetty told Sarah as she took the empty chair at the table. “She’s scared silly!”

“Shut up, Hetty,” Lisle said, glaring at her friend, even as she took another puff of the cigarette. “I ain’t scared. I’m just nervous.”

“If you don’t want to do it, I can go tell Malloy that—”

“I do want to do it!” Lisle insisted, throwing the butt of her cigarette to the floor and grinding it out with the toe of her shoe. “Don’t you want to know who killed Gerda?” she demanded of the other girls.

Their gazes dropped. Sarah wasn’t sure if it was shame or fear that cowed them. She only hoped whatever it was wouldn’t interfere with the investigation.

“I told my friend Detective Sergeant Malloy that when Lisle leaves the hall with George—”

“You mean she’s got to go out with him? What if he’s the killer?” Bertha wailed.

“Shush!” Hetty said, looking around nervously in case they had been overheard. Fortunately, the music was so loud, they could hardly even hear each other.

“Mr. Malloy is waiting downstairs,” Sarah hurried to explain. “He’ll follow Lisle and George, then he’ll confront George and question him. After I take Lisle away,” she hastened to add when Bertha would have protested again, “I’ll either follow them outside or go out ahead of them. That way I can point them out to Mr. Malloy. They won’t get far, and Lisle will never be alone with him.”

The girls didn’t seem reassured. Lisle looked around and saw a young man passing their table. “Got a smoke?” she asked with a brittle smile.

He was only too delighted to offer her a cigarette and light it for her. But when he made as if to sit down and join them, she turned away with a faint, “Thanks. See you later.”

Stung, he moved away, looking back once with an angry glare. Sarah imagined she saw murder in his eyes. She was becoming much too suspicious lately.

“Have you seen George? Is he here yet?” Sarah asked.

The girls shook their heads. A young man with buckteeth and freckles came over and asked Bertha to dance. She went reluctantly and only after Lisle told her to. A few minutes later another fellow came and asked Hetty to dance. Left alone with Lisle, Sarah watched her smoke the second cigarette down until it was too small to hold any longer. She ground it out with a ferocity that made Sarah wince.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” Sarah tried. “Mr. Malloy won’t let you out of his sight.”

“I ain’t afraid,” Lisle snapped, her fragile face rigid with whatever emotions she was feeling. “Not of George, any-ways. He won’t hurt me. He’d of done it before now if he was going to. I just don’t like tricking him like this. And what’s that copper friend of yours going to do to him? What if he don’t know who killed Gerda?”

Before Sarah could answer, a young man approached them. He was moderately tall and solidly built with the cheerful, open face of a born salesman. If his suit was loud, it was also well made and fit him perfectly. His hair was slicked back with pomade beneath his bowler hat, and his cheeks were clean-shaven. His smile revealed strong, even teeth.

“Lisle, my darling girl, sorry I’m late. The trolley jumped the track, and I had to walk most of the way up from ... Oh, hello there, miss,” he said, noticing Sarah.

“This is my friend Sarah,” Lisle said without looking at her.

“George Smith,” he said, tipping his hat. “Pleased to meet you.” His expression told her he was trying to figure out what a woman like her was doing in a place like this. With Lisle. She simply smiled serenely, trying to picture him beating a young woman to death. The picture simply would not form in her mind.

“Thank you,” she said, almost shouting to make herself heard above the music.

George pulled one of the other chairs a little closer to Lisle’s and sat down. “You look down in the mouth, kiddo. What’s wrong?”

“I’m tired of this place. Can we go somewhere else?” She didn’t sound very enthusiastic at the prospect, and George must have been a little suspicious. He glanced at Sarah as if trying to figure something out.

“Don’t worry about me,” Sarah said. “I was just leaving myself.”

“I wouldn’t want to run you off,” he said with his too friendly smile. “The night’s just starting.”

“Not for me, I’m afraid.” Sarah got up, looking at Lisle to make sure she was going to be all right. The girl’s chin rose a notch, and she met Sarah’s gaze steadily.

“You go on,” she said. “Don’t worry none about me. I’ll be fine now George is here.”

“Very nice meeting you, Mr. Smith,” Sarah said to George, who stood politely and nodded. He was still puzzled, trying to figure out who Sarah was and why she was here, but he would get no satisfaction from her.

By the time Sarah reached the relative quiet of the street outside, she felt her own tension quivering along every nerve ending. No wonder Lisle was so nervous.

She walked straight across the street, dodging the late-evening traffic, to the bar where Malloy said he would wait, giving him ample time to see her. Then she paused, looking up and down the street as if trying to decide which way to go. A moment later Malloy was at her side.

“Did you see him?”

“Yes, and I think he and Lisle will be coming out in just a moment. Where can we hide so he doesn’t see me watching for him?”

“No need to hide,” he said, taking her arm and guiding her to the next building. He put her back against it and stood in front of her, facing her, as if they were enjoying a very private conversation. He put his arm up, bracing his hand against the wall beside her head so her face would be shielded from anyone coming from the direction of the dance hall.

She looked up at Malloy, his face only inches from hers. She could see the tiny hairs where his beard was starting to grow. How odd she’d never noticed before but his eyes weren’t solid brown. They had gold flecks in them.

“Do you see them yet?” he asked. His voice sounded a little hoarse. Or maybe she was just being fanciful.

Obediently, she glanced under his arm. People were going into the hall, a group of young men who had obviously been drinking. They were laughing and shoving each other playfully as they unsteadily climbed the steps. Seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. Sarah was very aware of Malloy. The evening was warm, but it had grown considerably warmer in the past few minutes.

Sarah tried to draw a breath and found her lungs didn’t want to cooperate. Just when she thought she would have to duck under Malloy’s arm and flee or lose her sanity, she saw them.

“There they are!” she cried with as much relief as triumph.

M
ALLOY GLANCED OVER HIS SHOULDER AND saw a man and a woman—well, a girl, actually—coming down the steps. The girl was small and slender, her hair blond under the oversized hat she wore. The man was dressed the way he’d seen countless salesmen dressed, in a suit tailored more for flash than for style. Apparently, salesmen thought they had to make an indelible impression on people, even if the impression was one of tawdriness.

The fellow had the girl’s hand tucked into the crook of his arm, and they turned in the opposite direction from where he and Mrs. Brandt were standing. He should give them a minute to get a start. If he followed them right off, it would look suspicious.

He could hear Mrs. Brandt breathing. Her breath came quickly. Probably she was frightened. This sort of thing wasn’t something a midwife usually did in the course of her work. Maybe she was even worried some harm might come to the girl. It was possible, he supposed, but not very likely, not with Frank on his tail.

Frank could feel her breath on his cheek. He could feel the sweat forming all over his body. The night was warm, but not that warm. He was just standing too close to Mrs. Brandt was all. He’d fix that in a minute. There, they were turning the comer.

“Come on,” he said, pushing himself away from the wall with a sense of relief. Action, that’s what he needed. Anything to distract him from thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking.

He didn’t wait to see if she was coming. She’d be with him every step of the way. He knew he’d probably have to force her to leave when they caught up with George, too. She’d want to hear everything he had to say. Well, he’d deal with that, too.

He started down the sidewalk in the direction they had gone, watching the traffic for a break so they could cross and follow the other couple. Unconsciously, he reached for her arm, clasping it tightly so she would be with him when he saw an opportunity to cross. It came unexpectedly, a break between two wagons, and he fairly dragged her across the street, just barely missing a pile of horse manure.