by Rhys Bowen
Then through the chaos I heard a cry.
“Liam!” I screamed and clambered down the steep angle of the car, over seat backs, people’s backs. There were shouts, complaints. Then I heard his wailing again, his little voice full of fear, and another voice saying calmly, “Don’t worry, son. Your mama’s here somewhere. We’ll find her.”
A gentleman, dressed in smart business attire—his dark suit now covered in dust and debris—was holding my son, who was squirming and bawling like a mad thing. Liam’s new white sailor suit was streaked with black and the matching sailor hat was missing.
“Liam. My precious.” I grabbed him and held him tightly to me, rocking him, crying with him. I could feel his little heart pounding against me and a searing pain in my chest with each breath.
“Thank you.” I looked up at the man.
“He was quite fortunate,” the man said. “He must have slid down under the seats and landed at my feet. Come on. We must see if we can get out of here before this car catches on fire too.”
I glanced down and could make out a crushed and burning heap below us. It was hard even to recognize it as a former railway carriage, and I realized it was the second car, the one I hadn’t taken because of the man who was coughing. On such minute details hangs our fate, I thought.
There was movement below us. Shouts through the smoke. More shouts coming from outside the car.
“Careful,” someone warned. “Don’t shift the weight or we might fall down to the street.”
“No, it’s all right,” a man’s voice shouted back. “We’re resting against the wall of a building, and if I can get this window opened enough we can climb out onto a window ledge.”
One by one people were helped through the carriage window. Hands came out from the building to pull them to safety. The smart gentleman called out, “Lady with a baby here. Take her next.” And I was passed down to the window. Liam screamed as he was wrenched from my arms again and handed through to waiting arms. I had to hitch up my skirts as I squeezed through the window and then take a large step, through the black and swirling smoke, across to the nearest window ledge. But frankly, concern about who might see my bloomers was the last thing on my mind at that moment.
Then I was in a small kitchen that reeked of garlic and onions. Several dark-eyed children huddled behind the table, eyeing us with fear and fascination. Liam was handed back to me. I was assisted through the apartment, onto a landing, and down a flight of steep wooden stairs before coming out to join the throng on the street below. I could hear the sound of fire truck bells jangling as an engine approached. Police were yelling “Stand back. Let them through.”
As the smoke swirled and parted I felt that I was looking at the aftermath of a battle. In front of me was the twisted, smoldering wreckage that had once been a train carriage. It appeared to have landed on top of a truck, which was now burning. People were crowding around the wreckage, still trying to extricate those trapped inside. Those who had managed to escape now sat on the curb, holding up handkerchiefs to blood-spattered faces. Others staggered around in a daze, their clothing bloody and burned, while still others lay silent. I couldn’t tell whether they were unconscious or dead and I turned away, shivering.
Find a cab, I told myself. Take a cab to Sid and Gus. They’ll know what to do. They’ll take care of me. I jumped as a hand touched my arm. “Are you all right, ma’am?” a uniformed constable asked me. “You’re as white as a sheet.”
“I was in that carriage that’s still hanging,” I said. “I couldn’t find my baby.”
“Are you sure you’re not hurt? And the little boy?”
“He seems to be unhurt, thank God. I think I’m all right. It hurts me to breathe.”
“I’m thinking we should maybe get you to the hospital,” he said. “Just to be on the safe side. People don’t always recognize that they are injured in an accident, and you’re clearly suffering from shock.”
“Oh, no. I’m sure there are people who need help more than me,” I said.
“Best to have the little guy checked out too,” he said and led me to a waiting ambulance in which several people were already sitting. I didn’t have the energy to argue with him at that point and besides, I did want to make sure that Liam was all right. He was quiet now, his thumb in his mouth as he snuggled against me. I put my hand down to my side and tentatively felt my ribs. A shot of pain made me gasp. A broken rib then, maybe?
The ambulance doors were closed and we lurched as the horses started forward.
“Not exactly doing much to help if we’ve broken bones, is it?” the woman next to me said. She was holding her left wrist and I could see a bone jutting out through the flesh. I shuddered and turned away. The ride seemed to take forever, with bone-shaking jarring and rattling as the horses galloped over cobbles. Then thank God we came to a halt. There were voices outside. The back door opened and we were helped down.
“Where are we?” I asked, hoping to hear that we were at St. Vincent’s, just around the corner from Patchin Place.
“You’re at Roosevelt Hospital, my dear,” said a nurse.
I almost laughed at the irony. Roosevelt Hospital on Tenth Avenue, just down the block from the apartment building where I had started out that morning. Well, at least I could go back home when they released me. The waiting room was full and we sat on hard benches, breathing in the carbolic, antiseptic hospital smell. Finally I’d had enough. I went up to a nurse sitting at the desk. “Look, I’m not at all badly injured,” I said. “And my baby seems to be fine. I think we’ll just go home.”
She looked at me, frowning. “If you really think you’re well enough, of course you can leave. God knows we’ve got enough to do right now.”
“Right. Thank you. I’ll be on my way then,” I said.
I headed for the bright light coming from the doorway, and the next thing I knew my legs buckled under me.
When I opened my eyes I was lying in a cold and narrow bed at one end of a long ward of identical beds. The beds around me seemed to be occupied by other women. Two nurses were standing at the foot of my bed, deep in whispered conversation. I raised my head to look around me. “Liam?” I called out. “What’s happened to my boy?”
“Just lie back and take it easy.” One of the nurses came over to stand beside me. Beneath the white veil she had a fresh red-cheeked face. “The doctor is examining your son right now.” She picked up my wrist and started to take my pulse.
“What happened? Why am I here?”
“You fainted, that’s what. You went into shock, my dear. Quite common after an accident. I’ve sent the orderly for a nice cup of hot tea for you. That’s what you need for shock. Get that down you and you’ll feel a lot better.”
The tea arrived and I drank it, gratefully. Then a doctor came into the ward. “Another accident victim?” he asked, coming up to my bed.
“There’s nothing much wrong with me. I can go home,” I said.
“I’ll be the judge of that, young woman,” he said firmly. “Now, let’s take a look at you.” He took out his stethoscope and listened to my heartbeat. Then his hands moved skillfully over my body. I winced as he touched my side.
“Ribs hurt, do they?” He pressed a little harder making me wince even more. “Possible broken rib on this one, Nurse. Get her out of her street clothes and into a gown.”
“But I don’t want to stay here.” I tried to sit up. “And where’s my baby? I want him with me.”
“You’ll do as Doctor says.” The nurse wagged a firm finger at me. “I’ll go and find out about your baby. Is there someone who could take him if you’re kept in here overnight?”
“Not really. My husband is a policeman. He can’t stay home.”
“No relatives?”
“Not in the city.”
“Well, we’ll sort that out later. Screen around this bed, nurse. Let’s get you out of those clothes.”
Two of them undressed me carefully. Even though it hurt me to raise my ar
ms, I was relieved to find no obvious wounds. And even more relieved after the doctor came back and examined me more thoroughly.
“I don’t think you’ve broken your ribs. You may have cracked one, but I think it’s just a bad bruise. We’ll strap you up, which will make breathing easier.”
“I can go home then?”
He shook his head. “We’re keeping you overnight, just in case. You’ve a bad bump on your head, so you might have experienced a concussion. You did black out in the waiting room, remember. And you’re definitely in shock. No condition to go home and take care of a baby.”
“Where is my child?” I asked. “He’s all right, isn’t he?”
“He’s in the infant’s ward at the moment. Bawling his head off, but I gather he’s perfectly fine. He can go home as soon as there’s someone to take care of him.”
I let out a sigh of relief. Liam was unharmed. That was the main thing. I turned to the nurse as the doctor left. “Can someone send a message to my husband? He’ll want to know where I am and that I’m all right.”
“I’ll find you some paper,” a young nurse said, “and we’ll have a messenger deliver it. Is he nearby?”
“I don’t know where he is at this moment.” Suddenly I was near to tears. “But if you deliver it to police headquarters, they’ll find him.”
“Oh, a policeman, is he?” The young nurse nodded with understanding. “There’s every chance he’s already at the scene of the accident. Half the New York police seem to be there, from what I’ve heard.” She had a gentle voice with a tinge of Irishness to it.
“He’s a captain,” I said, “and he’s working on an important case. I hate to worry him with this, but he’ll want to know.”
“Of course he will.” She came back with writing paper and I wrote, I’m in Roosevelt Hospital. Survived the train wreck with only a scratch or two but they won’t let me go home tonight. Liam’s fine too. In the children’s ward.
The young nurse took it. “We’ll have a messenger take it to the nearest police station,” she said. “They’ll be able to contact your husband, I’m sure. They’ll know where to find him and he’ll be here in no time at all.” She put her hand on my arm. “Now, why don’t you get some rest?”
“Can’t I go to my son first? He’ll want to know his mother is safe and nearby.”
She shook her head. “You’re not going anywhere without doctor’s orders. Know that your boy is safe and being looked after for now. Now shut your eyes.”
I tried to do as she had said, and in truth, my head was beginning to throb. I put my hand up and touched a painful lump. Why did this have to happen now? I thought angrily. Just when I was ready to move back to my own home, to get it furnished and to start life again. But then I reminded myself that I was better off than many poor wretches. I had survived the train crash with only minor injuries. I wasn’t lying still and pale on the street, waiting to be covered by a shroud, nor was I still trapped inside the mangled wreckage of a smoldering carriage. And my son was safe and well. I had a lot to be thankful for.
Four
In my dream I was in a narrow, confined space. I tried to move but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even turn my head to see what was going on behind me, although I could hear a familiar voice, cutting through the layers, demanding, “Where is she?”
“I’m here, Daniel,” I tried to say. “Come and rescue me.”
Then the voice, right above me now. “My God. What’s wrong with her? Is she badly hurt? Is she unconscious?”
I forced myself back to consciousness and Daniel’s face swum into view, his eyes full of fear.
“Hello, Daniel,” I forced my lips to say.
“Thank God.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “You were lying there so still and peaceful that I thought for a second…”
I reached out and took his hand. “I’m fine, really. Just a bump on the head and some bruised ribs. They’ve strapped me up, which helps with the breathing, but they won’t let me go home.”
“And what about Liam? Where is he?”
“The doctor says he’s fine, Daniel. He’s in the children’s ward until someone can take him.”
“He’s not hurt? Are you sure?” His eyes were still darting nervously as he perched on the bed beside me.
“Don’t worry. He’s perfectly all right. Obviously he was terrified but I don’t think he was hurt in any way. We were so lucky, really. When I was thrown backward a woman fell into me and must have knocked him from my arms. And he slid under the seats until a man picked him up. A miracle, really, when you think of it. All those heavy people could have fallen on him.”
“Thank God,” he said again, and his voice cracked this time. “What a terrible business. I came past the site of the accident. When I saw that twisted metal I found it hard to believe that you had survived. What on earth went wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It was a Ninth Avenue train and it was traveling quite fast and then suddenly it was going around the curve that the Sixth Avenue line takes. Someone must have failed to switch the points back after a Sixth Avenue train went through right before us.”
“There will be hell to pay when we find out who is responsible,” he said. “And it could have been much worse too. The whole train could have fallen. Which car were you in?”
“The one that was hanging in midair, suspended.”
“Oh, my darling. How terrifying that must have been.” He squeezed my hand.
“But I was so lucky, Daniel. I was about to get into the second car, the one that crashed to the street and killed the people inside. It was only because I heard someone coughing, and I didn’t want to risk Liam catching some disease, that I changed my mind at the last second. I could have been still lying in that mangled wreck.”
Daniel’s hand was warm as he continued to hold mine and a spasm of pain crossed his face. “I almost told you to take a cab when you traveled today. Then I thought that the train was just as easy, with stations near either end of the journey. Now I’ll never forgive myself.”
“Daniel, there’s nothing to forgive. How many years have we traveled on the elevated railway, and nothing bad has happened? And we’re both more or less unscathed. I’ll be as right as rain in the morning. I just need to know what to do with Liam today. I don’t like to think of him in a ward full of crying and sick children, but I know that you have an important job to do.”
“I could send a telegram to my mother to come and get him and take him back to her place,” he said. “If I send it now she could be here by this afternoon. It’s a pity she can’t stay with us yet. We don’t have room in the apartment and we don’t have a guest bedroom yet at the house.”
“I don’t think she could manage to take him alone on a train, Daniel. He’s quite a handful and awfully heavy now. Besides, I don’t want to be parted from him.”
“It would only be for one night, Molly. And if they release you in the morning, then you can also go straight up to Westchester and let my mother look after you. You’ll need to rest and recover, you know.”
I was torn between wanting to stay in New York to move back to my own house, and having someone take care of me for a few days until I was back on my feet. Then I decided that the last thing I wanted right now was to be fussed over by Daniel’s mother. I wanted to get on with my own life and be back in my own home as soon as possible.
“You could take Liam down to Sid and Gus’s,” I said, cheering up as the idea occurred to me. “I know they’d love to look after him.”
“What do they know about babies?” Daniel said testily. “They’ll probably feed him frog legs and curry, and let him smoke a hookah or play with their knife collection.”
I had to laugh at this. “Daniel, they looked after him a lot when I was in France.”
“Yes, but with you there with them, surely,” he said.
I was about to say that I’d been running around all over Paris, but then I remembered that I’d been on the trail of a murderer and had
wisely kept the information about this from Daniel.
“There were times when I was out alone, and they entertained Liam,” I said cautiously.
“Yes, but keeping him entertained is not the same as knowing when to change his diaper, put him to bed. I’m sure my mother would be glad…”
I touched his hand again. “Daniel, they are expecting to see us this morning, looking forward to seeing Liam again. They’ll be wondering what’s happened to me. Liam and I can both stay with them. And I’d be happier in their house, knowing I was just across the street from my own place. Really I would.”
He frowned. “Very well, I suppose, although I still think it would make more sense to send you both up to Mother’s. I’ll take Liam down with me when I go back to Mulberry Street.”
“Thank you, Daniel.” I smiled at him and he nodded.
“Have there been any developments in your case?” I asked. “Any more notes? Another murder?”
“Not when I left,” he said. “We’re taking any extra precautions we can, because of his threat.”
“You mean ‘saving the best for last’? Is that what he said?”
Daniel nodded. “We’ve got our men guarding prominent people in the city—but it’s hopeless, really. We don’t know who might be important to a warped mind like his—maybe a member of his own family?”
“Do you have any reason to believe that any of the murder victims might have been his own family members?”
Daniel shook his head. “No, absolutely not. In each case, those closest to the murder victim couldn’t think of anybody who might have wanted to harm him or her.”
“Have the crimes escalated in violence since the first one?”
Daniel paused, then said, “None of them was particularly violent. But don’t you worry yourself about it now. You need to rest and recuperate. And I’m afraid I have to get back to work. If we can be on hand the moment a murder is reported, we might stand a better chance of finding evidence. Each time we’ve been notified about a death so far, it’s been too late, and any evidence there might have been has been lost. But he’ll have to slip up eventually. They usually do when they become too cocky. Or sometimes, they actually want to be caught.”
