Tell Me, Pretty Maiden (3 page)

FOUR

Of course the moment I had shut my front door I regretted sending him away, and the very next moment I remembered something else. I had promised to have luncheon with Sid, Gus, and their friend, the intriguing Nelly Bly. Now what was I going to do? I dearly wanted to do both. I debated the matter and in the end Daniel won out. I reasoned that Sid and Gus had their guest to entertain them, whereas Daniel had been through such hard times that he needed me more than they did.

So early next morning I went across Patchin Place to explain, and to beg to postpone our luncheon by one day. My friends naturally found this amusing.

“You see, Gus. What did I tell you? I knew she’d cast us aside the moment that man walked back into the picture. He snaps his fingers and she drops everything to attend to him,” Sid said with a wink.

“I do not, in normal circumstances,” I replied hotly. “It’s just that it’s been so long since Daniel and I had a chance to behave like a normal couple and go out to enjoy ourselves. I assure you that I do not come running every time Daniel Sullivan snaps his fingers.”

“Do you think we should let her off just this once, Gus?” Sid asked.

“She obviously enjoys this man’s company, although I can’t think why,” Gus replied.

“I suppose he is what might be described as handsome, in a roguish way.”

“And he may be trying to make amends for his past behavior.”

They were both watching me with amusement as they carried on this conversation.

“If you must know,” I said, interrupting, “I really want to see the ice-skating and tobogganing in Central Park. I’ve never experienced such things in my life. It doesn’t really snow in my part of Ireland.”

“Of course.” They nodded sagely together. “That would be the only reason.”

“You two are quite exasperating sometimes,” I exclaimed. “But I do beg your forgiveness for my rudeness. Please apologize to your friend Elizabeth and tell her I look forward to taking lunch with her tomorrow.”

As I went to leave, Gus called after me, “And what do you plan to wear for this outing in Central Park?”

“Certainly not my waif’s britches,” I said. “I do have that big woolen cape. That should keep me warm.”

“Quite wrong,” Gus said, looking at Sid, who nodded.

“Well, I don’t possess one of those delightful outfits trimmed with white fur that one sees in the women’s magazines,” I said. “The woolen cape is the only warm outer garment I own.”

“You have the very thing, don’t you, Gus?” Sid said.

“I do, indeed.” Gus rushed up the stairs and soon reappeared holding a mid-length red velvet cape, lined with fur.

“Holy Mother of God,” I exclaimed as Gus thrust it at me. “I couldn’t possibly wear this.”

“You don’t think the color goes well with your red hair?”

“Not at all. But it’s much too fine. I couldn’t borrow such a garment from you without worrying that I’d spoil it.”

“Nonsense.” Gus laughed. “I hardly ever wear it. Better you give it an outing than to let the moths have their way with it. Go on. Take it. Dazzle Daniel and everyone else in Central Park with your appearance.”

She insisted on trying it on me and I left their house feeling like a queen.

Daniel’s eyes widened when I appeared at the front door in all my finery. “You look—absolutely stunning,” he said. “New clothes? Your detective agency must be doing well.”

“Only borrowed for the occasion,” I said, “but my agency is doing remarkably well. I’ve had one assignment after another since I got back from Ireland. I rather think that Mr. Tommy Burke was pleased enough with me to refer me to his friends.”

“It’s nice to know that the trip to Ireland turned out to be successful after all,” Daniel said. He slipped my arm through his and escorted me down Patchin Place. Turned out successful after all, I thought grimly. One brother killed, one banished, and I could never go home again. Hardly a resounding success. But at least I had put Tommy Burke in touch with his lost sister. Maybe his money would help the freedom movement and somehow help make up for its lost leader.

“Watch your step!” Daniel snatched me back as I was about to walk out into the path of a carriage charging down Greenwich Avenue at a ridiculous pace.

“Right,” he said. “Let’s see where we can best hail a cab.”

“Daniel, you can’t afford this anymore,” I said without thinking. I saw from the set of his jaw that this was the wrong thing to say. I had just been telling him how my business was flourishing, and now I reminded him that he was on suspension with no pay until he knew of the outcome of his case.

A cab drew up beside us and I got in without saying another word.

“So what case are you working on that involves dressing up as a ragged boy?” he asked.

“Very simple, really. A Jewish couple wants to make sure that the young man the matchmaker has found for their daughter is all that she says he is.”

“And is he?”

“So far his behavior has been beyond reproach. I followed him to Forty-second Street—”

“Aha,” Daniel said.

“—where he was collecting a suit from his tailor,” I finished.

“If your case involves the Jewish community, you should ask your friend Mr. Singer to do some snooping on your behalf,” Daniel said. “Do you ever see Mr. Singer these days?”

I knew the comment was meant as a barb. There had been a time I had considered marrying Jacob Singer, when Daniel had still been engaged to Arabella Norton and I had believed we had no hope for a future together.

“I haven’t seen him in a while,” I said. “Besides, he wouldn’t move in the same circles as this Mr. Roth. Jacob is active among the poor and downtrodden. This young man is a recent Yale graduate who is employed in the family shipping business and dines out at the best restaurants.”

“He sounds highly suitable,” Daniel said. “Why are these people employing you?”

“To find out if he has any hidden vices,” I said, giving Daniel a wicked smile.

“And has he?”

“Not that I’ve yet discovered, but most men do, you know.”

Daniel looked at me, then sighed. “And so you are fully occupied while I sit twiddling my thumbs. It’s all wrong, isn’t it? Men are supposed to be out earning the daily crust while young ladies are supposed to sit home idly playing the piano or doing their embroidery, waiting for their lord and master to return.”

“Not this young lady,” I exclaimed. “I’ve never had an idle day in my life and if I did I should die of boredom, as, I suspect, most women in such situations do. And we are only speaking of the privileged few. For most women their life is drudgery from sun up to sun down.”

“True enough,” Daniel agreed, “although I hope there will come a future time when you are content to learn to play the role of housewife and mother.”

“We’ll have to see about that, won’t we,” I said.

He went to say something but I stopped him. “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” I said, patting his hand as one would calm a child. “As you said yourself, today is for having fun. We’re nearly there. Look how the snow sparkles in the sun.”

The cab pulled up beside the wrought-iron gates leading into Central Park. The cabbie jumped down and helped me from the cab as if I were a fine lady. Daniel paid and then offered me his arm. I felt like a fine lady as we swept together into Central Park. Just as we were about to enter, a surprised voice called, “Why, Captain Sullivan, sir!” And the constable on guard saluted Daniel.

“Hello, Jones,” Daniel said. “How are you?”

“Fair to middling, sir,” the constable said. “Can’t complain and this duty is pleasant enough. A few pickpockets, lost children, lost keys, and that’s about it. Except that today we’ve been told to be on the lookout for a burglar from New Haven, Connecticut.”

“A burglar from Connecticut? Must be a special kind of burglar to have them alert the New York police.”

“Ah well, as to that I couldn’t say. But he may be behind a string of robberies and he’s killed those who tried to stop him.”

“What makes them think he’s coming to the city?”

“His getaway vehicle was found, having run into a tree on the highway in the Bronx. He’s currently a student at Yale, which would explain the New Haven burglaries, but his family lives here in New York and the police suspect that he may have been trying to get home. Halsted is the name. Society man, too, if you can imagine.”

“That name rings a bell,” Daniel said. “Halsted. Now, where have I met him?”

“If you meet him again, be sure to arrest him,” the constable said with a chuckle. “That would put you back in their good books, wouldn’t it? I tell you straight, Captain Sullivan, we need you back on the job with all that’s going on at the moment.”

“Oh, really? What
is
going on?” Daniel asked.

“Well, there’s this new Italian gang, for one thing. Straight from Sicily, so I gather, and meaner than anything we’ve seen so far. They make the Eastmans look like pussycats.”

“Do they, indeed. What do they call themselves,” Daniel asked, “and where are they operating?”

“They’ve no defined territory as far as I know, but they’re behind all kinds of criminal activities—protection rackets mostly, but robbery, violence, extortion, murder—you name it and they’ve a hand in it.”

“Like the Black Hand boys?”

“Like them, but worse. The Black Hand thugs keep to their neighborhoods. These guys seem to be operating all over. And they’d kill a man as soon as look at him. They call themselves the Cosa Nostra. No idea what that might mean. It’s Italian, sure enough.”

“Just what we needed, another gang,” Daniel said with a bitter laugh. “Let’s hope we can nip this one in the bud and stop them before they take hold. There are plenty of Italians to recruit into gangs in New York.”

“You’re telling me, Captain. Plenty of trouble, too. And you try getting one of them to squeal. They’ve got this code of silence and we just won’t break it. Now if they put you on the job, sir, you’d know what to do. When do you think you’re coming back?”

“I wish I knew, Jones,” Daniel said. “I’m being kept in limbo—on purpose, I’m sure. But if we get a new police commissioner in January, he may show more sense than this current fool.”

“I do hope so, sir.” He looked around. “I should be getting back to work and I should let you enjoy your stroll with your young lady.” He saluted again as Daniel and I walked on.

“One of the best,” Daniel said. “One of the few that didn’t turn against me.”

“I’m sure none of them is against you, now that the truth is out.”

“But is the truth out, that’s the question? There has been no trial as yet. That rat Quigley has yet to confess.”

“It will all come right, I’m sure,” I said, and gave him an encouraging smile.

East Drive had been cleared of snow, which now lay piled in great mounds that urchins were sliding down on sheets of cardboard, giving out hollers of delight. Better-dressed children passed us, dragging proper sleds or carrying ice skates, and accompanied by nannies.

At that moment there came a delightful tinkle of bells and a horse-drawn sleigh passed along East Drive, its occupants looking as if they had stepped straight from a Currier and Ives Christmas scene with their fur-trimmed bonnets and muffs. They were laughing merrily as if they hadn’t a care in the world. I found myself thinking of Arabella Norton. Daniel might have been riding in such a sleigh had he not broken his engagement to her.

“So did you see anything of Arabella when you were home?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“I was not about to make my presence known or to go out into society given my current circumstances,” Daniel said dryly, “even if I had wanted to do so—which I didn’t.”

He started to walk faster, almost dragging me along beside him.

“Whoa, hold your horses,” I said, tugging at his arm. “I can’t stride out like a man, you know, much as I would like to.”

He looked down at me and smiled. “Forgive me,” he said. “As you know, I have much on my mind. Let us go and see the skaters and forget all our cares. If you’d like to, we could try it ourselves.”

“In which case I rather fear I should be sitting on my backside on the ice more than anything,” I said, “since I’ve never been on skates before.”

“You’d have my arm firmly around you,” Daniel said, “and I have skated on the pond behind our house since childhood.”

“We’ll see when we get there,” I said. “At this moment I’m just enjoying being in the snow. It hardly ever snows in my part of Ireland, and if it does it’s only a light dusting that soon melts in the rain that follows it. My, how it dazzles. Come on, let’s walk where nobody has trodden before.”

I started to run across what had been a meadow and was now an expanse of pristine whiteness. The snow crunched deliciously under my feet and I looked back at the trail my footprints had left.

“If I were a criminal, you’d have no trouble following me, would you?” I called out. “Come on, Daniel. What are you waiting for?”

“Molly, a little decorum, please, and besides, you don’t know how deep the snow might be.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “It doesn’t come over the tops of my boots. Don’t be such a ninny. See?”

I took two more steps and suddenly found myself sinking into snow up to my knees. I hadn’t realized until this moment how very cold the snow could be. It almost took my breath away.

“Daniel, help me out,” I gasped. I glared at him as he started laughing.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he chuckled.

Feeling foolish and angry, I bent down, scooped up a snowball, and threw it at him. It hit him square in the chest.

“Good shot, Molly,” I yelled with delight.

For a second he looked startled, then he brushed himself off. “Right,” he called. “You asked for it!” and he bent to make his own snowball.

I struggled free of the snow and started to run. A snowball hit me in the back. I paused, scooped, and threw back one of my own, then picked up my skirts, raising them to a level that bordered on impropriety and ran on again, squealing in delight like a ten-year-old. At the edge of a meadow the ground rose in a series of tree-covered hillocks. I headed in that direction as another snowball whizzed past me.