Tell Me, Pretty Maiden (27 page)

“Ward’s Island?”

The sailor I asked laughed. “You’re looking at it. If the water wasn’t so cold, you could swim across. There’s a little ferry, down a ways. Keep walking and you’ll see the sign.”

I did as he suggested and found the ferry was no bigger than a large row boat. The old man who ferried me grinned as he handed me ashore. “Make sure they don’t lock you up and keep you here,” he said. “It’s a terrible place, right enough. You should hear the cries and the groans sometimes. You can hear them in Manhattan when the wind’s in the right direction.”

I tried not to think about his warning as I marched up to the front entrance of a grim brick building. I couldn’t help noticing the bars on the windows. Inside I was met by a nurse in a crisply starched uniform. “Did you not read the sign?” She tapped at the wall. “Visiting days are the first Saturday of every month, but only for those patients deemed suitable to receive visitors.”

“I’ve come to reclaim a young woman who was admitted here by mistake,” I said. “She would have been brought here within the last three or four days.”

“By mistake, you say?”

“Yes. She was being looked after by myself and treated by an eminent doctor of the mind. She should never have been brought here and I’m here to take her home.”

“I see.” She regarded me coldly. “And the name?”

“I’m not sure under what name she would have been admitted. Probably Anya something.”

“You say you don’t know the person’s name?”

“I know her real name. It’s Jessie Edwards. But I fear she was admitted under a false name or no name at all. Now, can you look in your records and see if a girl was brought here in the past few days?”

“I can do no such thing,” she said. “Our records are confidential.”

“Even if a mistake has been made?”

She glanced down at a book on her desk. “The only person admitted here recently who matches your description was admitted by her family. I take it you are not a family member?”

I was so tempted to lie and say that I was, but I decided this might complicate things even further. “No, I’m not, and neither were they. They had kidnapped her.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You can prove this?”

“No, I’m afraid I can’t.”

“Then what exactly is your interest in this case?”

“I’m a friend of the young woman. I was looking after her until she was kidnapped.”

She frowned at me as if trying to read my mind.

“What was the name of these people who committed a young woman against her will?”

“I don’t know what name they would have used,” I said. “They are really Sicilian gang members. They may have claimed to be Hungarian.”

“Really.” She shook her head in disbelief. “And do you not think that our staff would be aware if a perfectly sane individual was brought here against her will? This is not the dark ages, you know.”

“Unfortunately she is not in her right mind at the moment,” I said. “She has lost her memory and her power of speech.”

“Which would indicate that she actually belongs here, would you not say?”

“She needs treatment, but she was getting good care from me and from a doctor who is a friend of mine.”

She regarded me for a long while then she sniffed and said, “Young woman, you are wasting my time. If you really believe an injustice has happened then come back to me with the authorities and with proof. Personally I think everything you’ve said is a load of baloney.”

“It’s not. They really did kidnap her.”

“Someone whose name you don’t know was brought here by relatives, who are not relatives but you don’t know their names, either, and she really is in a current catatonic state. I don’t think you’re going to find anyone who takes you seriously, miss. I don’t know what your game is, but I suggest you leave.”

“Let me talk to someone in charge,” I begged.

“Until you can show me that the people who signed her over to this institution were not her family members, I am not prepared to mention this to any of my superiors. Until then you have no right to be here. Good day to you.”

“If I could just see her,” I said. “I know she’d want to see me. She’d want to know that something is being done on her behalf.”

“Good day to you, miss.” She deliberately turned her back on me.

“Now look here,” I said angrily. “I’m not leaving until I see someone who will at least listen to me.”

The nurse rang a little bell on her desk. Two large men appeared. “Have this young woman escorted out, please,” she said. “She is trying to make trouble.”

FORTY

I stood on the Manhattan shore and looked across at Ward’s Island, overwhelmed with anger and frustration. To know that my girl was in that terrible place and that I had no way of rescuing her was driving me crazy. What could I do? If Daniel had returned he might know how to approach this. But then he might also tell me that it was none of my business. The girl had been destined for that very asylum when I kidnapped her myself. And who knows—in spite of the reputation and the moans and the groans, maybe she would receive some treatment there that could help her.

Of course that’s when I thought of Dr. Birnbaum. He was well known in his field. He could probably gain entrance to such an institution and he could see if Jessie was all right and being cared for. Feeling much better, I hurried to the nearest El station, and sat impatiently while the train crawled slowly southward through Manhattan until it reached Eighth Street. Soon I found myself at the Hotel Lafayette. I hardly expected Dr. Birnbaum to be in his rooms in the middle of the day, but I could leave a note for him, and by the end of the day I’d have an ally who could save Jessie for me.

“Dr. Birnbaum?” the man at the reception desk said. “I’m afraid he’s not here.”

“I realize that,” I said, trying to sound calm, “but I wish to leave a note for him to be delivered the moment he returns. It’s urgent.”

“If it’s urgent, I’m afraid that’s not going to do much good,” he said. “The doctor was called out of town unexpectedly this morning.”

“How long will he be away?”

“I couldn’t tell you but he did take quite an amount of baggage with him.”

“You don’t happen to know where he went?”

“It is not my job to ask the guests where they are going, miss,” he said solemnly. “It could have been back to Europe, I suppose. He did tell us to retain his room, so I expect he’ll return in good time. If you care to write the note, I’ll see that he gets it as soon as he returns.”

I wrote on hotel stationery, but my heart just wasn’t in it. How could I possibly wait to see when Dr. Birnbaum might return, knowing Jessie was in that place? Then I decided I wasn’t going to wait. Mrs. Goodwin would probably be home in bed by now and I was going to risk waking her.

I hurried to Tompkins Square, hammered on Mrs. Goodwin’s door, and was finally rewarded by slow footsteps coming toward me. It was clear she had been in a deep sleep.

“Oh Molly, it’s you,” she said. “What drama do we have today?”

“A terrible one,” I said, and spilled out the whole story. “We have to do something,” I concluded. “They wouldn’t listen to me. It will take an official visit from the police before we can get her out of there.”

“Very well.” She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Captain Paxton was the senior officer in the raid on the Sicilians, so he would have to be the one to take this up.”

She went upstairs to get dressed and I left her feeling more hopeful. It was now in the hands of the authorities. They would make that hatchet-faced nurse admit them and release Jessie back to me. I realized I might be taking on a long-term problem, that supporting another person would not be easy, but I’m always of the Mr. Micawber school of thought that “something will turn up.” So I walked home with a spring to my step, already planning how I might make Jessie’s bedroom more cheerful, or perhaps give her mine so that she got the morning sun.

I waited impatiently all day. There was almost no food in the house, but I dared not leave to go shopping, in case I missed Mrs. Goodwin. Evening came and still no Mrs. Goodwin. Still no Daniel, either. I paced the house like a caged animal, up and down the narrow hallway, waiting for that knock on the front door. By eight o’clock I realized she wasn’t going to come.

I told myself to calm down and stop fussing. Obviously Captain Paxton had more on his mind than the fate of one girl. I couldn’t expect him to drop everything, to risk jeopardizing his case against the Sicilian gangsters just for me. That night I dreamed about Ward’s Island, but it wasn’t Jessie who was locked up there, it was me. It was a horrible nightmare with half-human creatures dancing around me, screaming and moaning and laughing. They prodded me with sticks and one of them said, “This one’s sane,” and another shouted, “Not for long!” at which they all cackled with laughter and a voice in the background whispered, “You’ll never get out, you know.”

I woke screaming, then lay in the darkness with my heart pounding. I had to do something today. I couldn’t wait any longer. As soon as it was light I made my way to police headquarters. As I walked up Mulberry Street I saw her walking ahead of me, in conversation with a male police officer. I didn’t stop to think that perhaps I shouldn’t approach her when she was on duty. I’m afraid I yelled out her name and broke into a run. She turned in surprise and waited for me.

“Molly, my dear, I can’t talk now,” she said. “We’re on our way to interview a girl in a brothel. I get off duty at ten and I’ll come straight to your house.”

So I had to wait yet again. At least she’ll have good news when she comes, I kept telling myself. At last there was the knock on the door and I ushered her inside.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” I asked. “Come and sit down.”

“I won’t stay.” She remained standing just inside the door. “I’m afraid I don’t have very encouraging news for you, my dear. I told your story to Captain Paxton and he’s not prepared to intervene.”

“What?” I shouted. “He knows those gangsters have shoved an innocent girl into an insane asylum and he’s not going to do anything?”

She put her hand on my shoulder. “Molly, he considered it carefully, I assure you.”

“Oh, I bet he did!”

“But in the end his opinion was that the girl was currently out of her mind and thus belonged in an insane asylum, even though she was admitted there by dubious means.”

“Did you tell him I’d be prepared to take care of her?” I demanded.

“Molly, you have no claim on her. You’re not a family member. You’ll have to let matters be for now. I’m sure, if she recovers her senses they’ll release her.”

“No, they won’t.” I could feel tears stinging in my eyes.

“I don’t know why you’re taking this particular case so personally,” she said. “You’re a detective. You know the world is full of sadness and injustice and you have to remain detached from your work or go mad yourself.”

“But she’s not my work. I found her,” I said. “I believe I was meant to find her. Meant to save her. And save her I will, one way or another.”

After she had gone I sat at my kitchen table, staring out at the December grayness. The world outside matched my mood—swirling fog, bare branches from which moisture dripped. How could Daniel have deserted me when I needed him? If he’d been in charge of the case, and not that stupid Captain Paxton, then all would be well. At least he’d have been able to comfort and reassure me. I realized that sometimes I fought too hard to be a strong and independent woman. Maybe I had shut him out one time too often and he no longer thought that I needed or wanted him close to me. I was almost ready to rush up to Westchester, find him, and make him come back to New York with me. But my pride wouldn’t let me do it.

I tried to tell myself that Jessie would be all right. This was, after all, the Twentieth Century. Great strides were being made in treating the insane. There were other doctors like my friend Dr. Birnbaum who now specialized in the sick mind. Maybe she was in the right place. Maybe they’d cure her.

Then I decided I’d write a letter to the head of the asylum, asking to be notified as soon as he saw any improvement in her, letting him know that I was willing to take care of her myself. He’d be a reasonable man. I’d have her out in no time at all.

I wrote the letter, weighing every word I put down. At last I was satisfied and had completed a whole page with no blots, which in itself was a miracle for me. I found a stamp and set out to post it. But even as I dropped it into the mailbox, I found that I couldn’t keep the old worries at bay. What about that dream I had had last night? Was it a warning that the asylum was a terrible place? After all, Nelly Bly had gained notoriety by having herself committed and thus exposing the horrors of such places.

I stopped in midstep on the sidewalk. I’d go and see Elizabeth and find out the truth. So I turned away from Patchin Place and made for the Fifth Avenue Hotel. Hot chestnut men and Christmas carolers reminded me of the approaching season. It certainly didn’t feel like a time of goodwill to all men!

Elizabeth had obviously just risen and was still in her robe having breakfast in her suite, but she looked pleased to see me.

“Molly. You have news about your silent girl?”

“News, but not good. It seems she has been admitted to the insane asylum on Ward’s Island.”

“Mercy me. That’s not good news, as you say. Is there nothing you can do about it?”

“I’ve tried everything I can,” I said. “I’ve just written to the doctor in charge. Everyone has told me that the girl belongs in there. So I came to you. I have to know—is it such a terrible place, do you think? Will she be treated and cured?”

I saw the answer from her face before she spoke. “Molly, those places are one step away from hell,” she said. “In spite of the article I wrote, and the public outcry at the conditions, I’ve come to believe that little has been done to improve things. We’ve no way of improving them, you see. We just don’t know how to treat the insane. Most of the time we just don’t bother.”

“Then I want you to help me,” I said. “You managed to have yourself admitted to a similar institution once. I want your help in getting me admitted there.”

She shook her head firmly. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Of course I do. But it’s the only way. Once I’m in there, I’m sure I can find Jessie and manage to convince a kind doctor or nurse that a terrible injustice has been done.”

“You may not find a kind doctor or nurse. Some of the people who work there are the worst sort of bullies—those who delight in inflicting suffering on those with no voice and no power.”

“At least let me try it,” I said. “What have I got to lose? If a family member can commit a person, then surely you can claim to be my relative. You can have me admitted and then, a couple of days later, reveal who you are and why you admitted me. People will listen to you. I’ll be whisked out again and I can bring Jessie with me.”

“Jessie?”

“That is the girl’s real name. Jessie Edwards. She was a dancer in Connecticut.”

“Amazing. So not foreign after all?”

“No. It must be as Dr. Birnbaum suggested—that a great and horrible event robbed her of her senses and her power of speech.”

Elizabeth shook her head again. “Then what would happen to her if she was rescued from that place? The insane are not always easy to care for, you know.”

“I can help her, Elizabeth. My doctor friend is a renowned alienist and I have a devoted woman to be her nurse. The poor girl has suffered enough. I’ve got to do all I can.”

“Then why not let your doctor friend help her?”

“Unfortunately, he’s been called away, and I’ve no idea where or for how long. Don’t you see that a few days in a place like Ward’s Island might push somebody into madness forever?”

“Yes, I do see that,” she said.

“So won’t you help me? You can summon the wagon to have me taken away. Tell them I’m having delusions or I’m violent or even that I’m like Jessie and I’ve lost my memory and can’t speak.”

“Violent and delusional would be better,” Catherine said. “If you’d just lost your memory, any loving family member would take care of you until you regained it. I’d have to show that it was beyond my power to care for you and that you were a danger to yourself and others.”

“But not too dangerous, or I might be locked away from other inmates.”

“Very well,” she said after a long pause. “If you really want to go through with this, then I’ll come with you to your home and contact the asylum from there. It will look less suspicious than from a hotel. And you’ll need to pack a bag—only pack clothes you don’t care about losing, as they’ll probably be stolen from you if they are too fine.”

We took a cab back to Patchin Place. I went upstairs and threw my oldest night attire and undergarments into the bag. I wasn’t going to risk taking a change of dress. I didn’t own enough clothes to willingly sacrifice one outfit. I also packed my hairbrush and tooth powder, although whether I’d be allowed to use either was debatable. I unpinned my hair and made it stand out wildly, giving me a definitely mad appearance.

Then Elizabeth went to find a public telephone and I rehearsed my role. We had decided that I had become delusional. I was convinced that I was a foreign princess, being held captive by my sister Elizabeth, and that I kept trying to escape. That way I would not be deemed a danger to other inmates, but would be too much for my poor sister, given her own current health problems (we hadn’t quite decided on these, but we’d just hint).

Elizabeth returned, looking grave. “They will be here before the end of the day,” she said. “And they will be bringing papers for me to sign, committing you to the care of the state.”

“I see.” I swallowed hard. It suddenly sounded very real and very final. “And we’ll give it two days, shall we?” I added. “That should give me enough time to locate Jessie and make sure that she’s all right. And who knows, I might even have a chance to speak to a person who would listen to the truth.”

“Who knows,” Elizabeth said.

I thought of going over to Sid and Gus to say goodbye, but I had a suspicion that they wouldn’t let me go through with this. I wasn’t at all sure that I should go through with it myself. The sensible side of me kept saying that Doctor Birnbaum would be back in a few days and that he’d be able to rescue Jessie, but I couldn’t shake off this terrible feeling of dread and need for haste. What if he had gone back to Europe and stayed there for months? Something inside me whispered that if I didn’t get there soon, it would be too late. I wasn’t sure why those ruthless men had committed Jessie to the institution—maybe they had been tipped off about the police raid and wanted her safely stashed away. But maybe they could equally have bribed a guard to bring about her demise in a way that didn’t look suspicious.