Murder on Astor Place

by Victoria Thompson

  And of course, when she’d seen the Macy’s advertisement on the front page of the Times, she hadn’t been able to resist the price. Only twenty-four dollars, when it would usually cost thirty. She could always wear the suit to church, she told herself. The hussar blue serge reefer suit—with silk lining throughout—wasn’t so very grand that she would look out of place among ordinary folk, but it was presentable enough that she wouldn’t have to suffer raised eyebrows from a butler or a maid when she sought admittance to her own family’s home.

  She really should be going to visit her mother. And she would. Very soon. As soon as this business was settled, she told herself. Now that she’d settled things with her mother, she had no more excuse not to go. Except, of course, that she wasn’t ready to see her father just yet. And she did have to take care of this business about Alicia. The instant Alicia’s murder was solved and her killer brought to justice, however, she’d have time to think about herself and take care of family business.

  Until then, she had a job to do.

  The Times said that the temperature yesterday had been eighty-four degrees, a record high for that date, but today was cooler, thank heavens. Still warm for April, but only pleasantly so. A lovely day for a stroll in the nicer neighborhoods of the city. The house on Marble Row was still draped in black crepe, and when Alfred answered her knock, he didn’t seem the least surprised to see her.

  “Mrs. Brandt, won’t you come in? I’ll see if Miss Mina is home,” he said, which gave her hope. At least he hadn’t been ordered to turn her away at the door.

  This time Sarah had come during regular visiting hours, too, taking the chance that the VanDamms wouldn’t be receiving much company yet and she wouldn’t have to share Mina with other curious acquaintances. Assuming, of course, she was going to be admitted at all. The memory of being refused admittance the last time was still nagging at her when Alfred returned and told her Miss Mina would receive her in the front parlor.

  Sarah needed a minute to collect herself and conceal her immense relief. It wouldn’t do to go in to Mina looking joyous with triumph when she was supposedly paying a condolence call. When she was sure her expression was suitably somber, she allowed Alfred to escort her into the parlor.

  Mina was ensconced on a sofa at the far end of the room, her back to the heavily draped window. Her black crepe gown was obviously new and in the height of fashion, its mutton-chop sleeves positively enormous. Certainly, she would have missed the jewelry that her mourning forbade, but she managed to look quite elegant all the same.

  She extended a limp hand to Sarah, who was glad to see she was alone. Extracting information from her would be difficult enough without competing with other visitors for her attention.

  “How are you, Mina?” Sarah asked with as much concern as she could muster, taking the hand Mina offered in both of her own.

  “As well as I can be under the circumstances, I suppose,” she allowed with a dramatic sigh. “Please, sit down, and tell me what’s going on in the world. I haven’t been out of doors since poor Alicia’s funeral.”

  Sarah was fairly certain Mina wasn’t interested in hearing about the controversy over the enforcement of the Raines Law, which decreed that saloons should be closed on Sunday or about the dry goods store that had burned down the other day. Rather, she’d want to know the latest gossip from the society she couldn’t enjoy because of her mourning. Unfortunately, Sarah knew no more of it than Mina did.

  “I’m afraid I’m rather dull and don’t have any news to share. But tell me, have the police learned anything new?” Sarah asked, having decided to play innocent. “Do they have any idea yet who killed poor Alicia?”

  Sarah thought she caught a glimpse of annoyance in Mina’s eyes before she lowered them to touch her handkerchief to her nose ever so delicately. “I’m sure I don’t know. Father is the one they speak to. I couldn’t bear to speak of it in any case. But I’ll tell you the truth, I doubt they’ll ever find her killer. You know how incompetent the police are. It’s a wonder it’s even safe for a woman to walk the streets anymore.”

  “I know you were able to recover Alicia’s jewelry,” Sarah reminded her. “Has your father offered a reward for her killer, too?”

  Mina looked at her as if she’d just spit on the floor. “Most certainly not! How could you put a price on someone’s life?”

  How indeed, particularly when finding Alicia’s jewelry seemed more important to them than avenging her death. Sarah decided not to explain to Mina the ways of the world where police efficiency was concerned. She’d be wasting her time, particularly since she knew the VanDamms had already ordered the police to cease the investigation, so Mina would have no interest in the subject. She decided to try a different approach.

  “I can’t help thinking that if they could just locate that young man, the one who was living in the boardinghouse and who disappeared the night she died, they might learn something. He must have some information. Since he ran away, he might have seen something that night. Perhaps he even knows who her killer is.”

  “Most likely he is her killer, so it seems doubtful he’ll ever show his face again. Even if the police were trying to find him, he’s probably a hundred miles away by now. He’d certainly be a fool if he wasn’t.”

  “But if he would just come back, we could at least be sure. I know the police believe he knows something. I wouldn’t mind asking him some questions myself.”

  Mina seemed intrigued. “And exactly what would you ask Alicia’s killer if you had the opportunity?”

  Sarah pretended to consider. “Oh, for instance, I’d ask him why he was so interested in Alicia.”

  “Really, Sarah, don’t you already know the answer to that? Alicia was lovely and young and female,” Mina said, not bothering to hide her animosity. “That explains why any man would be interested in her.”

  “And I’d want to know if he saw someone come into the house that night. The doors would have been locked, so how did the killer get in? Perhaps this Fisher fellow was the one who opened the door. And we also know an abortionist came to see Alicia that night. If we could—”

  “An abortionist? What on earth are you talking about?”

  “An abortionist is a person who ... who helps women get rid of babies they don’t want,” Sarah explained, recalling she hadn’t known such people existed, either, when she’d lived in Mina’s world.

  Mina seemed shocked. Her face had paled. “What makes you think a person like this visited Alicia that night?”

  “The police found one of her instruments in Alicia’s room. I’m sure if we could find this woman, she could at least tell us who hired her and—”

  “Really, Sarah, this is ridiculous. You already told me that Alicia was with child, and now you want me to believe someone came to her room that night and got rid of the baby for her. Which is it?”

  “Both. If someone did come to perform an abortion on Alicia, I’m sure they refused when they saw how far along she was. Performing the procedure at that time would have been much too dangerous. The woman would have refused and left the house. But the person who hired her could have remained behind with Alicia, and if he did, he must be Alicia’s killer. Maybe he was Alicia’s lover, the father of her child. If so, he might have reason to want her dead. If we just knew who he was—”

  “I tell you, Alicia had no lover. The very thought is preposterous. If that’s who the police are looking for, no wonder they can’t find anything.”

  “I’m afraid Alicia most certainly did have a lover. She was with child,” Sarah reminded her.

  Mina’s face was stark white now, but from what emotion, Sarah couldn’t be sure. Certainly, she was shocked and embarrassed and outraged and probably angry, too. Sarah was sure no one had ever talked to her about such things before in her entire life. But then, her sister had never been murdered before, either.

  “No one in authority has told me such a thing about Alicia’s condition,” Mina said, as if she could negate the
fact by the force of her denial.

  “Then I’m telling you, and the police detective in charge of the case told me himself. Your sister must have known at least one man. Was there someone who befriended her? Someone who could have had the opportunity to seduce her? A family friend, perhaps? Someone you’d never suspect.”

  Sarah knew she was foolish to expect Mina to implicate Sylvester Mattingly outright, but she couldn’t help trying to tempt her.

  Mina leaned her head back against the cushions and pressed her handkerchief to her mouth for a long moment, as if forcibly controlling her emotions. When she had collected herself, she said, “This is all so horrible.” Then her gaze touched Sarah, and Sarah saw the cunning in her pale eyes. “But I wonder at you, Sarah. Why do you care so much about all this, and how do you know so much about the case?”

  “I’ve been very concerned from the beginning,” Sarah explained. “Since I saw Alicia the night before she died, I feel connected somehow. And one of the police detectives has been very kind in answering my questions and keeping me informed about what’s happening.”

  Mina sniffed in derision. “Are you consorting with a policeman? Really, Sarah, you have no more judgment in men than your sister did.”

  Anger flooded Sarah, nearly choking her, but she somehow managed to bite back the sharp retort she so desperately wanted to make. She settled for, “I sometimes think I’m the only one who cares if Alicia’s killer is found.”

  For a second, Sarah thought perhaps Mina was going to agree with her. But then she said, “I’m really very tired, Sarah. This has been a terrible strain on all of us. I know you’ll excuse me if I cut our visit short.”

  Effectively dismissed, Sarah had no choice but to leave. She rose and took a moment to put her gloves on, hoping that Mina would feel compelled to say something into the silence. But she disappointed Sarah by simply waiting until she was finished. Then she summoned a maid to see her out.

  Out on the sidewalk, Sarah savored the sounds of busy Fifth Avenue. Briefly, she considered taking a hansom cab back to Greenwich Village. She needed some time to digest her visit with Mina and to figure out if she had learned anything at all. But the fare would be exorbitant, and she could be just as alone with her thoughts on the El.

  Feeling slightly out of place in her new gown among the working people on the train, Sarah watched the buildings speeding by, absently noting the advertising signs plastered on nearly every exposed surface of those buildings. “Castoria” and “Ivory Soap, It Floats,” and “Sozodont Toothpaste” and “Buffalo Lithia Water” were all being touted as the cure for whatever ailed a body, from female complaints to bad breath.

  By the time the train reached Fortieth Street, Sarah had decided that Mina had told her nothing useful. What she really needed was to see Malloy for a consultation. She needed his guidance and his perspective and most of all, his experience to help her decide what to do next. After a while, even the murmur of the wheels on the tracks seemed to hum his name. Malloy, Malloy, Malloy. Come soon, Malloy. I’ve run out of things to do.

  Malloy didn’t come until the following evening. Sarah had long since finished her supper and was reading one of Tom’s medical journals when she heard his knock. Recognizing his silhouette through the curtain, she felt a surge of anticipation she hadn’t felt since she’d lost Tom. For all the satisfaction her work gave her, Sarah realized her life had lacked a certain amount of excitement in recent years. In fact, except for the occasional difficult birth, it had lacked any excitement at all. But Detective Sergeant Malloy had changed all that by asking her to help him solve Alicia’s murder. She might never actually like him—he represented too many things of which she disapproved for that to ever happen—but she must always be grateful to him for giving her a purpose outside herself for the first time in far too long.

  “Malloy,” she greeted him warmly. “Come in. I’ve been busy, and I have a lot to tell you.”

  He looked bone weary, and his shirt was limp and wrinkled, as if he’d worn it for more than one day in the recent heat. He did, at least, remove his hat this time. Sarah took it and hung it on the coat tree by the door.

  “Have you eaten?” she found herself asking. Why she should care, she had no idea, but he looked as if he needed someone to look after him. Sarah’s long dormant feminine instincts demanded she do so.

  “I’m fine,” he said, a little gruffly, she thought. “Don’t go to any trouble for me.”

  “Come into the kitchen and sit down anyway. I’ve got some coffee left from supper. You look like you could use some.”

  She thought he smiled a little at that, although she couldn’t be sure. It might simply have been a grimace. But he followed her into the kitchen, and he drank the coffee she poured for him.

  “What have you found out?” he asked when he’d finished half the cup in one swallow.

  “Well, let’s see. Where should I begin?” she mused, taking a seat opposite him and picking up her own cup. “I went back to the Higgins house, and this time I talked to the children.”

  “The children?”

  “Yes, you probably thought they were asleep when Alicia was killed, but Mary Grace wasn’t. She’s the oldest girl. Her bed is right by the window, and she was awake that night. She saw a man and a woman come into the house.”

  “When was this?” Suddenly, Malloy didn’t look quite so tired anymore.

  “Mary Grace didn’t know the time, but it must have been late, after everyone else was in bed. The man was tall and thin, and the woman was short and round and walked with a cane. The man had to help her up the stairs, Mary Grace said.”

  “Did she recognize either of them?”

  “She said she didn’t. It was dark, of course, but she recognized Hamilton Fisher when he came out later. She said she could tell it was him by the way he walked, and he was carrying his bag with him. If she’d known the man and woman, I think she would have recognized them, too.”

  “She saw Fisher leave then?”

  “Yes, she thought he was the one who let the man and woman into the house, although she didn’t see him do it. She must be right, too, since nothing else makes sense. And shortly afterward, he left. He was carrying a satchel, so Mary Grace thought he was leaving for good, which of course he was.”

  “But she didn’t think she knew the man and woman.”

  “No, but I believe we can assume the woman was the abortionist. The man brought her, and ...”

  “And he tried to get her to perform the abortion, but Alicia wouldn’t allow it.”

  “Or more likely, the abortionist wouldn’t do it when she found out how far along Alicia was. She wouldn’t want to take a chance of Alicia dying, and a procedure so late in the pregnancy would be very dangerous.”

  “So she didn’t do it, and then what?” Malloy was thinking out loud, trying to come up with a scenario that made sense. “She stood there while the man killed Alicia?”

  “No, Mary Grace said she saw the man leaving later, alone. She said he was running as if someone was chasing him, although no one was. I think the woman, the abortionist, must have left when she found out she had nothing to do there. The man stayed with Alicia. Perhaps they quarreled, or perhaps he’d simply intended to kill her all along if he couldn’t get her to agree to the abortion. In any event, however he came to do it, he strangled her. Then he must have become frightened by what he’d done, so he ran away.”

  “I hate to admit it, Mrs. Brandt, but your theory makes a lot of sense,” he said with just the trace of a smile. “Now all we need to know is who he was.”

  “Or at least who she was, since she could certainly identify him for us.”

  “Oh, I already know who she is,” Malloy said with infuriating confidence as he drained his cup.

  “You do? How?”

  “I questioned all the abortionists in town, remember? Only one of them is short and fat and walks with a cane. The Russian woman, Petrovka.”

  “Emma Petrovka, of course!” S
arah cried. “I should have guessed it myself. I know her slightly. Our paths have crossed once or twice.”

  Sarah had thought Mrs. Petrovka an awful woman, but not for any reason other than her profession. She seemed competent and well-mannered, and many women were grateful for her services, as Sarah knew only too well. Perhaps Alicia would have been if given the choice in time.

  “Will you question her again?” Sarah asked. “Can you make her tell you who the man was?”

  This time Malloy did smile. It was a funny, crooked little thing that looked oddly out of place on his broad face. “I’m not allowed to question anybody, Mrs. Brandt. I’m off the case, remember?”

  Oh, dear, she’d forgotten. But then she recalled who was really investigating this case. “But I’m not off the case, am I? I could question Mrs. Petrovka!”

  “Are you sure you want to? This isn’t like interrogating the Higgins children. You’re getting pretty close to the killer.”

  “Mrs. Petrovka isn’t the killer,” Sarah scoffed.

  “No, but she most likely knows who is. If she tells you anything, not necessarily who he is but anything at all that could lead you to him, you’d be in danger.”

  “How would the killer know?”

  Malloy frowned. “She might tell him. He might already be bribing her for her silence, so she’d feel a sense of loyalty or at least obligation to tell him. Or maybe she doesn’t even know Alicia was killed that night she visited her. Then you both would be in danger.”

  “I’m not afraid. I’ll go see her in the daylight.”

  “Do you think people don’t get killed in the daylight?” he asked, obviously horrified at her hopeless naivete.