To Sarah’s surprise, Mrs. Walker smiled. “You see, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t force them at all. I don’t have to. They come to me of their own free will, begging me to take them in.”
“How can you expect me to believe that?” Sarah asked, outraged.
“Because it’s true. I have girls knocking on my door every day. Maybe you don’t know what it’s like to be hungry and desperate, you being from a rich family and all, but there’s plenty of girls in the city who do. Poor girls, whose families have thrown them out because they can’t afford to feed them anymore. Or girls whose families died or whose husbands deserted them. If they’re lucky, they get a job in a factory or they try rolling cigars or making collars in their rooms for some sweatshop, but it ain’t long before they figure out they can’t afford to eat and keep a roof over their heads both on what they make. Maybe they say no the first time some man offers them a dollar to lift their skirts, but that’s more than they make in a week, and when the landlord tells them to pay up or get thrown into the street, that dollar starts to look pretty good.”
“I deliver babies all over the city. I know very well how difficult it is for a woman alone to survive,” Sarah said.
“Then you shouldn’t be surprised that the girls want to work for me instead of being out on the street with no one to protect them, in all weathers where anything can happen to them. I told you before, I take good care of my girls. Nobody beats them or robs them. They eat good and have a clean place to sleep. If I took all the girls who come begging, I’d have a hundred working for me. I have to turn girls away every day.”
“Then you shouldn’t miss Amy.”
Mrs. Walker stiffened. “You don’t know anything about her, or you wouldn’t say that.”
“I know she was desperate to get away from your house.”
“She was, but not for the reason you think.”
“What other reason did she need?”
“Girls leave my house for lots of reasons. Sometimes they go off with a customer who promised to set them up in style. Sometimes they get lured away to another house. Sometimes I throw them out because they steal from customers or the other girls or me. And sometimes they think they’re in love.”
“Amy said she hated what you made her do with the customers.”
“Of course she did. It’s what you wanted to hear, but that’s not the reason she wanted to leave.”
“What do you think the reason was?”
Mrs. Walker stared at Sarah for a long moment, studying her again. Then she said, “Let me tell you how Amy came to me in the first place. A man brought her.”
“What man?”
“A rich man. He’d been keeping her, and he was tired of her. She can be . . . disagreeable when she doesn’t get her way.”
Sarah had noticed this, but she didn’t respond.
“I don’t usually do favors for my clients, but this man . . . I didn’t want to refuse him, and he paid me well.”
“Did he know she was with child?”
“I don’t think she knew herself. If she did, she was stupid not to tell him, and Amy isn’t stupid. Foolish, yes, but not stupid.”
“When did you find out?”
“Not for a long time. She’s a plump girl and nobody noticed when she got a little plumper.”
“Why didn’t she let her protector know about the baby?”
“He didn’t want to hear from her, and we don’t encourage the girls to write letters. You can understand how much trouble that might cause. Besides, she was a whore. Why would he believe the baby was his?”
“How long has she been at your house?”
“Almost six months.”
“Then she would have been more than three months gone when she arrived at your place. The timing should convince him now.”
Mrs. Walker shrugged. “If he wanted to believe it, I suppose.”
“You didn’t tell him?”
“Of course not. I make it a habit not to cause problems for my clients.”
“I guess that’s why Amy didn’t ask you to tell him when she did realize she was pregnant.”
Mrs. Walker sniffed in disgust. “If she’d told me, I could’ve taken care of it, but by the time I found out, it was too late. I had a doctor come see her, but he said she was too far gone and would probably die if he tried. I should’ve put her out then, the ungrateful little bitch, but I let her stay, out of the goodness of my heart.”
“And because some of your customers enjoyed being with a pregnant woman,” Sarah guessed.
Mrs. Walker’s brown eyes flashed, but she knew how to control her temper. “My girls have to earn their keep. I don’t run a charity.”
Sarah sighed. “Mrs. Walker, you promised to tell me something to change my mind about helping Amy, but you haven’t.”
“Yes, I have. I told you she had a baby to a rich man, or at least she’s going to try to make him believe that. She’s got some romantic notion he’s going to take her back or maybe even marry her. I don’t know what she’s got in her mind, but none of that will happen, I promise you. If she goes to this man with her story, he’ll . . . Well, I don’t know what he’ll do, but it won’t be good for Amy, I can tell you that.”
Sarah had a difficult time believing Mrs. Walker was so concerned about Amy that she’d come all the way over here to beg for Sarah’s help. “I’m guessing he won’t be too pleased with you, either, for letting her get out to cause him trouble. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s the real reason you want to get her back, so you can make sure he never finds out.”
“If I have reason to be afraid of him, Amy has even more. At least tell me where she is so I can talk to her. She’s confused now, but I can set her straight.”
“And if you can’t, Jake can carry her out bodily.”
“The way your people did?” Mrs. Walker countered.
“They weren’t my people.”
“Then who were they?”
“A group who helps rescue women from the streets. And before you ask, I’ll tell you that they’ve taken Amy to a safe place. I don’t know where it is, so I couldn’t help you even if I wanted to, and I don’t.”
“Where did you take the baby? Jake went back to that mission where he’d dropped you off, but they said the baby wasn’t there.”
“He’s with Amy now. I gave him to . . . to the people who helped her.”
“Who are these people? How do you know they don’t have a brothel of their own? Maybe they rescue whores to take them to their own place!”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Not as ridiculous as you might think. A good whore can earn a lot of money.”
“The people who rescued Amy are a legitimate charity. It’s called Rahab’s Daughters.”
“Rahab,” Mrs. Walker mused. “That’s slick. Oh, don’t look so surprised. I wasn’t born in a whorehouse. I went to Sunday school in my time. Rahab the Harlot. She did all right for herself, if I remember.”
“Yes, she did, and Amy will, too, with Mrs. Van Orner’s help.”
“Whose help?” she asked sharply.
“Mrs. Van Orner. She runs Rahab’s Daughters. Maybe you’ve heard of her.”
“No, never,” Mrs. Walker said quickly, but Sarah could see she was lying.
She remembered what Amy had said about the girls in the brothel always talking about Mrs. Van Orner. Certainly, Mrs. Walker would have heard of her, too.
Mrs. Walker stood abruptly. “I should be going.”
Sarah did want her gone, but something in Mrs. Walker’s manner disturbed her. “You’ll never find Amy,” she tried. “And even if you do, she won’t go back.”
Mrs. Walker sniffed again. “Fat lot you know about whores, Mrs. Brandt. You should stick to midwiving.”
A slender figure suddenly appeared in the front doorway. “What’s going on here?” Mrs. Ellsworth demanded, striding determinedly into the room. “Are you all right, Mrs. Brandt?”
“Of course she’s a
ll right,” Mrs. Walker said haughtily. “Why wouldn’t she be?”
Mrs. Ellsworth looked the woman up and down with exaggerated disdain. “Because there’s no telling what somebody like you might get up to.”
Mrs. Walker flushed crimson, but more from fury than embarrassment, Sarah judged. She lifted her chin and stalked out, taking care to bump into Mrs. Ellsworth, making the older woman gasp with outrage.
“Just who does she think she is?” Mrs. Ellsworth demanded, color blooming in her wrinkled cheeks.
“She thinks she’s better than we are,” Sarah said. “Where are the girls?”
“I made them stay at my house.”
“You should’ve stayed there yourself.”
“I had to make sure you didn’t need help. When Maeve told me what was going on . . .” Mrs. Ellsworth shook her head in dismay.
Sarah’s first instinct was to remind her neighbor that an elderly woman wouldn’t be of much assistance if she really had been in danger, but then she remembered at least one time when Mrs. Ellsworth’s assistance had saved her life. “I appreciate your concern, but I wasn’t in any danger.”
“Is she really a madam?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked, going to close the front door. She stopped when she saw Maeve and Catherine coming up the front steps. “I told you girls to stay put!”
“We saw the carriage pulling away, so we knew it was all right to come home,” Maeve explained. “What did that awful woman say, Mrs. Brandt?”
“Nothing important,” Sarah said.
Catherine came running across the room and threw herself into Sarah’s arms. Sarah lifted the girl up. “There’s nothing to be frightened of, darling.”
“Is the mean lady gone?”
“Yes, and she’s not coming back.”
“I didn’t like her.”
“I didn’t like her either,” Maeve said.
“Well, if she comes back here, don’t open the door,” Mrs. Ellsworth advised.
Catherine didn’t allow Sarah out of her sight for the rest of the evening, and she begged Sarah to stay with her until she fell asleep.
When Sarah came back downstairs after putting Catherine to bed, Mrs. Ellsworth was still keeping Maeve company at the kitchen table. Sarah joined them and took this opportunity to tell them about her conversation with Mrs. Walker.
“I can’t believe that woman thought you would help her,” Mrs. Ellsworth marveled.
“She probably thought she could scare her into it,” Maeve said. “She doesn’t know you very well, Mrs. Brandt.”
“I’m just glad Amy is safe from her now.”
“What will happen to her? To Amy, I mean,” Maeve asked.
“I don’t know. She’ll have to find a way to support herself and her baby.”
“That won’t be easy,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “What kind of a job can a girl like her do? And who will take care of the baby?”
“Mrs. Walker was right about one thing. Amy thinks her baby’s father is going to help her.”
“How do you know?” Maeve asked in surprise.
“She told me today. She has the idea that once he learns about the baby, he’ll want her back or something.”
Mrs. Ellsworth shook her head. “He doesn’t sound like that kind of man.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Sarah agreed. “But we can’t be sure Mrs. Walker was telling us the truth. And maybe Amy knows him better than she does.”
“I’d say Mrs. Walker only tells the truth when it suits her,” Maeve said. “And it might’ve suited her this time.”
“Yes, it might.”
“Are you going to tell Mr. Malloy that she came to see you tonight?” Maeve asked.
“Oh, yes, that’s a good idea,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “He’ll make sure she never comes back here.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think he could.” Sarah told them both about her conversation with Frank Malloy earlier in the day.
“You mean the police would actually help her force a girl to go back to her brothel? Against her will?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked.
“So it appears,” Sarah said.
“If he was mad before, he’ll be even madder when he hears that woman showed up on your doorstep,” Maeve pointed out.
“I know, which is why I don’t think I’ll mention it. I doubt she’ll bother us again, at any rate. She knows I can’t help her.”
“Let’s hope,” Mrs. Ellsworth said fervently.
“I just wonder if Mrs. Van Orner and her friends will help Amy get in touch with the baby’s father,” Sarah said.
“If they don’t, will you help her?” Maeve asked.
“I think you should take Mr. Malloy’s advice and keep out of it altogether,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “You did what she asked you to do and helped her escape from that place. No one can expect anything more.”
Sarah wondered if that were true.
THE NEXT DAY, SARAH WOULD HAVE PAID AMY ANOTHER visit, just to make sure she was doing well, but she was called out on another delivery. When she got back, late the following day, she found a note from Mrs. Van Orner thanking her for her help and telling her Amy was doing fine and Sarah need no longer concern herself. The news made Maeve and Mrs. Ellsworth very happy, and Sarah decided to put the episode out of her mind, as Malloy had begged her to do.
She thought about Amy several times during the next few days, but several more deliveries kept her too busy to do more than that. A week later, she had convinced herself that if Amy had needed her help, they would have sent for her.
She and the girls had just finished cleaning up the supper dishes when someone rang the bell. Maeve and Catherine went to answer it, and Sarah didn’t even bother to remind them to check who was there before opening it. All concern that Mrs. Walker would return had evaporated.
Sarah heard the rumble of a familiar voice and quickly removed her apron and smoothed her hair before hurrying out to the front room. Maeve and Catherine were making Frank Malloy feel welcome.
“We have some stew left from supper,” Maeve was saying. “We can heat it up for you.”
“No, thanks, I can’t stay.” He looked up at Sarah when she came into the room, but he didn’t smile. “I just need to tell Mrs. Brandt something, and then I have to go.”
“Girls, would you leave us alone for a minute?” Sarah asked.
Maeve took a reluctant Catherine by the hand and led her back into the kitchen.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, alarm prickling over her.
“It’s your friend, the one you did the rescue with.”
“Amy? Has something happened to her?”
“Amy? Who’s that?”
“She’s the girl we took from the brothel. What’s happened to her?”
“Nothing that I know of. It’s the woman, the one who does the rescues.”
“Mrs. Van Orner?” Sarah asked in surprise.
“Yeah, Mrs. Van Orner. She’s dead.”
6
“DEAD?” SARAH ECHOED INCREDULOUSLY. “ARE YOU sure?”
“As sure as I can be.”
“How on earth did it happen?”
“We don’t know who did it yet, but it looks like she was murdered.”
“Good heavens.” Sarah could hardly take it in. “How awful.” Then she thought of something else. “Are you investigating?”
“I was put on the case when they figured out this Mrs. Van Orner was the one who kidnapped that whore from Mrs. Walker’s place.” His expression told her exactly how unhappy that made him. “I think the chief has it in for me now.”
“I’m so sorry, but it shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out who killed her. I’m sure a woman like Mrs. Van Orner didn’t have a lot of enemies.”
“No, not a lot,” Malloy agreed. “Just every madam in New York City.”
“Mrs. Walker, at least,” Sarah said, trying to be helpful. “Or that man Jake who works for Mrs. Walker.”
“If somebody had cracked her skull, I’d suspect Jake, but it’s mo
re likely she was poisoned. Poison is a woman’s way of killing someone. Women don’t like making a mess.”
She didn’t miss the sarcasm in his voice, but she ignored it. “Can I help you somehow?”
“No,” he said sharply, his dark eyes flashing. “That’s why I came to tell you. I want you to stay out of this, Sarah. We’re dealing with dangerous people, people who don’t think twice about killing the wife of a very powerful man. People like that wouldn’t think twice about killing a midwife either.”
“Nobody wants to kill me, Malloy,” she scoffed.
“I think Mrs. Walker, for one, would be very happy to see you dead. I haven’t seen you in more than a week, so by now you could’ve made a dozen new enemies I don’t even know about yet.”
“I haven’t made any enemies at all, thank you very much. I’ve been working very hard delivering babies.”
“Good, keep doing that, and stay out of the Tenderloin.”
Sarah was going to promise to do just that but then she remembered her last encounter with Mrs. Walker. “Oh, no!”
“What?” Malloy asked. He looked like he was bracing himself.
“Mrs. Walker came to see me last week.”
“What do you mean, came to see you?”
“She came here to the house, to talk to me.”
Malloy muttered something that might’ve been a curse. “What did she want?”
“She was trying to convince me to tell her where Amy was so she could get her back.”
Malloy closed his eyes as if praying for strength and drew a fortifying breath. “And what did you tell her?”
“I told her what you said I should tell her, that I didn’t know where they were keeping Amy. But I also mentioned Mrs. Van Orner’s name. Oh, my heavens, I betrayed her to that woman! I’m responsible for her death!”
“We don’t know who killed Mrs. Van Orner yet. It could have been her maid for all we know.”
“I doubt it was her maid. She’d be out of a job if she killed her mistress.”
“Which probably explains why more rich women aren’t murdered by their maids. I’m serious, Sarah. You weren’t responsible and you should forget you ever met any of these people. And if anybody bothers you again, let me know.”
Murder on Sisters' Row Page 9
