by Madison Kent
It was not quite eleven in the morning. While sitting at the bay window, she saw Louie, hurrying up the steps of their home.
“Come in, come in,” Madeline said. “Mrs. O'Malley told me of your intent. We have luncheon ready. I hope you will join us.”
“Thank you. I would enjoy a cup of hot coffee if you have it,” said Louie.
Mrs. O'Malley brought their refreshments to the dining area, and Louie pulled from his coat pocket several crumpled pieces of pink stationery.
“I wanted to bring these to you as soon as possible. I found these quite by accident in the inside of one of my sister’s books. I believe these may be the names of the two girls my sister had come in contact with. Rosa thinks she remembers hearing her say one of their names,” stated Louie.
“That is a good source. May I see them?” asked Madeline.
The ink was somewhat smudged, and it was difficult to be certain, but it appeared the names were Felicia Zugaj and Wanda Gapinski.
“The names are clearer to read than the address, but perhaps someone in the area will be familiar with their names,” said Madeline. “I have to say I was hoping you had some good news and perhaps had heard from Maria.”
“If only that were true, I would not be in the state I am. I’m sure you’ve noticed I have not been well. As each day passes, and we do not hear from her, I grow more alarmed. I cannot sleep and find myself walking the streets near the hotel hoping to see her.”
“I do understand your concern. I too believe her disappearance may have something to do with her being at the Harrison. These names, however, could prove very useful. How is Rosa holding up?”
“She is frantic. She also has spent time in every corner store and speaking to people in the street. The police have finally declared Maria, a missing person but do not give us much hope in resolving anything soon. They say there has been a rash of young girls reported missing. The only information that gives me hope is that he said most of the females were blondes, and of course, Maria is black haired.”
“Well, certainly something is terribly amiss if they have given you such information. Did they say anything else?”
“No, he seemed reluctant to even give me that much information.”
“I can see if Father can give you something for your nerves if you like, and I can assure you I will spend the rest of this day searching for clues. I will also see if I can find anything about the girls mentioned in your sister’s note.”
“Yes, I can come by this evening when your father is at home. Perhaps something for sleep, if he could do that for me, I would appreciate it.”
“I will see you this evening, and I hope I will have some news for you.”
She called to Mrs. O'Malley that she would be at the Harrison Hotel and that she would not return until the dinner hour at six. She hurried from her home as if someone was chasing her, feeling compelled to hasten her footsteps in her newfound pursuit of the girls Wanda and Felicia.
She had a partial address for Felicia. The words looked hurriedly written and read Felicia Zugaj Hern-Goose. Being unfamiliar with the area, Madeline assumed Maria had meant to write Huron. Her neighborhood, including Huron Street, was named Goose Island. For Wanda, there was no indication of a street address. Most of the area consisted of Polish and Italian immigrants, with a smattering of others, like herself from a variety of places. She decided to would walk to Huron Street first before going to the Harrison.
She began knocking on doors, hoping to find someone who knew the Zugaj family. People were friendly in Chicago and usually were not only aware who their neighbors were, but knew all the gossip about them and would congregate in little huddles to talk about them.
There was one such group sweeping the streets, laughing and speaking in broken English and Polish. Four gray-haired women, with plain day dresses, were gathered together on Huron.
“Excuse me, ladies, I am looking for the home of a friend of mine. She told me her address, but I have lost it, though I know her family lives on Huron. Would you know the Zugaj family?”
There was a flurry of talk in Polish among them, which she did not understand, but she did realize that the name of Zugaj had caused them all to react.
A portly woman with kind eyes spoke, “Yes, yes, Felicia. We know her. Her family has been most unhappy these days. Felicia cannot be found.”
Madeline was startled by her words and said, “She is missing! How terrible. I am also looking for a young lady who has gone missing, and her family is in great distress.”
The older lady took her hand and said, “Yes, it is terrible news. We are all looking for our little Felicia. We would see her walk by all the time, always a kind word. I will take you to her house, but her mother is not good, but maybe if I go with you, she will speak to you.”
The group of ladies followed behind them, continuing to chatter in elevated nervous voices.
“We have all been very worried. We think something may have happened to her. She would not be the one not to speak to her Mama. I am Mrs. Grotski,” she continued as she shook Madeline’s hand. Mrs. Grotski introduced her other friends and Madeline politely exchanged pleasantries, but her mind was whirling with this news of another missing girl and could barely keep up with any of the conversation.
“This is it, dear,” said the lady who said her name was Elsie Posninski. “She may not talk much; she is in a bad way these days.”
“I can understand that. Perhaps just a few questions,” said Madeline.
Elsie knocked several times, but no one came to the door. This time, she leaned over the stair railing and tapped on the window.
“Cecilia, it’s me, Elsie. I have a visitor, and we would like to speak with you.”
After a few minutes, they could hear rustling and a drawn looking portly woman, with a stained apron that existed over her dark blue dress, said, “Come in…come in. I will be no good company, but sit. I have coffee brewing, and I will get some for us.”
Elsie shook her head in empathy for her friend Cecilia. “If it were my daughter that was missing, I’d look the same or worse. I just don’t understand it; this is a good neighborhood. Everywhere, you can find a helping hand and a friendly face.”
“I know. I don’t recall anything like this happening before, either. It is strange and gives everyone cause for worry,” said Madeline.
Cecilia returned to the room with a tray of demitasse cups and a silver pitcher of coffee. She was clutching a lace handkerchief in her hand, and periodically stopped to wipe her eyes.
“My Felicia’s been now been gone two days. She and her friend, Wanda had gone out for the evening. I believe she said they were going downtown for supper. She said she wasn’t certain what time she would be home, but that it would be before midnight, as she had worked the next day.
"We asked all of her friends and people at work, but no one has heard from her. All the police said is that they will send someone out to look for her. They said not to worry, as these situations almost always turn out all right, with the girls showing up at a friend's or relative’s house.
"I know it is the worse. Felicia and Wanda would not wander off. It is the worse,” she said again, her voice trailing off and her hands going to her face.
Elsie put her arm around Cecilia, trying to comfort the woman, but she was not able to do so.
"If you will wait here, I will get Mrs. Gapinski. She lives right around the corner," said Elsie.
Madeline offered some hope as she said, “I have been employed to seek the whereabouts of another young lady, and I shall look for your girl as well. I promise I will do all I can to help.”
When Mrs. Gapinski arrived Madeline, she retold the story.
Mrs. Gapinski pleaded, "Please...please do what you can to find our daughters. We have done what we can, but we have no money and the police do nothing."
With that, Mrs. Gapinski began to weep.
“I will stay with them,” said Elsie.
“Yes, I will go. Here, th
is is my contact information,” Madeline said as she hastily wrote down her information on a corner of a newspaper in Cecilia’s home.
Things were going in the wrong direction. Not only did she not have any concrete clues to Maria’s whereabouts, but more girls had now gone missing. Madeline wiped her brow from the summer’s heat, and found she was not only flushed from warmth, but her left hand was shaking. This new development meant some menacing presence had drifted into their once-quiet neighborhood, and she felt a shiver of fear run through her.
She was walking back in the direction of the hotel when she saw the familiar face of her dear Uncle Hank. He was speaking with some similar-clad men, all with dirt-stained shirts, and wet, slick backs. He was wringing a grungy hat in his hands and speaking with a wild arm waving to one of the men.
She called out to him, but he did not hear her. He began walking, and she hurried to meet up with him.
“Uncle Hank, wait! It’s me, Madeline.”
He finally turned, smiling and looking embarrassed about his appearance.
“Madeline, I was planning to come up for a visit once I got myself cleaned up. I hope you don’t mind me,” he said, trying to brush off some of the grit from his trousers.
“I’ve been out looking for Maria and have found out some startling facts. It’s good to see a friendly face.”
“I’ve found something out just this morning, and it's not good news.”
“What is it?” she said, as she peered at his downturned face.
“I’d hardly like to be the one to tell you. I was coming home from work, taking my time, just walking, slow as I could be, stopping to talk to the street vendors, when I come across a crowd of folks in the street. Some of them were crying and carrying on, so I went up to see what the fuss was all about.
There she was…a sight I never want to see again.”
Uncle Hank stopped speaking for a moment, his eyes not meeting hers. Madeline touched his shoulder and said, “Please go on. Oh…please, go on. Is it all that terrible?”
“They were all gathered around a young lady who was run over by a carriage. She just lay there, broken, not moving. Some ladies were crying, and the men were all yelling.
Madeline, I think it was Maria—the Maria you were looking for. I have her picture and have watched for her as you asked, and I do think it was her.”
“No, it can’t be. Perhaps you’re wrong.”
“I suppose I could be. Will you go to Maxwell and find out?”
“Yes, I had planned to return home, but now I will go straight there first. This is the most upsetting news, Uncle Hank. When you arrive home, will you please tell Mrs. O'Malley that I've been detained?”
“Of course I will. I never heard of nothing like this going on before. Are you sure you will be safe?”
“There is still daylight for another hour or so. I should be home by dusk.”
She watched Uncle Hank walk away; hoping that the news he brought her was not true. She had secured a carriage and was bumping along the uneven road, watching the city go about its business, perhaps most of them were not aware there was reason to fear the evil that had set itself on Erie Street.
She sat in the Maxwell Street Station for over an hour, waiting to speak to someone. This time, she had written confirmation from Louie Falco that she was able to represent the family. When she finally was able to speak to Officer Parsons, he confirmed that they believed it was Maria.
“She didn’t have any identification on her, but she had several embroidered handkerchiefs with initials MF. We have sent someone to the house of the family. I remember you, you were the one that was looking for her,” said the officer.
“Yes, this is terrible news indeed. Was it an accident? Do you know anything about the circumstances?”
“We will be investigating that fact. We have many witnesses to the incident, but at the moment, we have conflicting information.”
She went on to discuss with him her news of Felicia and Wanda’s disappearance.
“It is a strange thing indeed. We have an onslaught of reports of missing young girls. We have taken a great interest in this phenomenon. I agree with you that it cannot be just coincidence. At the moment, we have no leads.”
“I will go now to speak with the family to see if I can be of any assistance. They will be in need of help. I will continue to search for the other girls.”
“Be careful. If you were my sister, I don’t believe I would like it. You might be putting yourself in the path of danger.”
“Perhaps, but I will continue just the same. Thank you for your concern.”
She shook his hand and left the station. Consumed now with thoughts about Maria and also the aunts' niece Polly, she walked with her head down. She remembered distinctly how it felt to deliver the news to them that Polly, one of the Ripper's victims, was gone. She would have to face Rosa and Louie, look into their eyes, and face the torment she knew she would find there when they discovered the terrible truth.
Hailing a cabby, she looked out over the city she loved, wondering now if she could ever see it in the same way after these recent events.
She had planned to go straight home, but abruptly stopped the driver when she saw the Harrison Hotel come into view. She thought she might question the concierge again about Wanda and Felicia.
The doorman greeted her warmly, and she attempted a forced smile in return. Still immersed in thoughts about Maria, she was surprised to hear her named called from a distance.
“Madeline, hello, Madeline,” said Marilyn as she walked closer.
“Marilyn, how are you? I see you are here with your sister, in your favorite spot at the café.”
“Yes, we are here often. We enjoy doing our studies here. It is a pleasant way to do the work, and it is not very busy during the mid-day, so the owner does not mind us taking up the space.
"I can see by the look on your face that you seem quite troubled,” proclaimed Marilyn.
“May I join you, and I will tell you both about it.”
They walked back to the table where the twins were partaking of their afternoon tea and pastries.
“I am so happy to see you. My head is swimming with unhappy news. Do you remember the young lady, Maria, that I had told you I was searching for? I learned an accident has occurred, and Maria became crushed under the wheels of a carriage. I have just returned from the police station, and an officer I spoke with confirmed her death.
"It all seems strange. First, she goes missing with no contact to her family and then meets this terrible end. It doesn’t make any sense. I know there must be more to it than that,” said Madeline.
“I cannot imagine how the poor family will take this news. In the past day or two, there have been times when you could overhear people passing and speaking of these missing girls. It has reached a level of concern among the people in the neighborhood that we all are seeking answers to what has become of them,” said Marilyn.
“If there is any way we may be of assistance to you, Madeline, please tell us,” said Nancy.
“I may well do so. As you are frequent visitors to the hotel, you are in a unique position to have intimate knowledge of this establishment. I am certain now that this hotel holds many secrets and is in some way involved in their disappearance,” said Madeline.
“Really, do you think that? But this is such a respectable and notable hotel. Perhaps we should not frequent this place. I am not so brave as to put myself or my sister in danger,” said Nancy.
“As long as you are together and only come during the daylight hours, I don’t believe you could be in danger of any kind, but, of course, it would be wise to be on your guard nonetheless.
Perhaps I am wrong, but I think I will spend more time here, and I will try to speak with the management to see if I can find out anything more,” said Madeline.
“You can count on us. I believe that is Mr. Thomas by the concierge desk. I think he is the assistant manager of the hotel,” said Nancy.
“Mr. Thomas…Mr. Thomas,” Madeline called out.
A short, stout man with salt and pepper curly hair responded, “Do I know you, Miss?”
“Oh…no, a friend of mine pointed you out and informed me you were in a management position, and I wondered if I could have a word with you.”
“Certainly…there is an empty table for two by the window. We shall have a lovely view while we speak.”
“I’m sure you are aware, Mr. Thomas, that several young ladies, who have recently gone missing, frequented this hotel. One of the ladies is deceased while the others whereabouts remain unknown. Could you tell me if there has been an event or some reason these girls would have been here at the hotel?”
“Young lady, The Harrison has deservedly been named one of the best new hotels in the city, if not the best. Its reputation is impeccable and has the finest clientele. Chicago is booming and draws all to its welcoming arms as does the Harrison.
There has been a fair recently near here, as well as some historical exhibitions. The amount of people that come in and out of our doors, just for refreshments and shopping is inestimable. Now, does that answer your question?”
“Not exactly…did you know if any of the girls were frequent visitors?"
“That would be a question I would answer only from the authorities. I hope you do not think me rude, but that is hotel business.”
“I do understand, of course. I am only here at the request of family members. I will convey your sentiments on the matter,” she said sarcastically.
