“Why not? Esposito isn’t going to complain.”
Her eyes widened even more but she smiled wanly. “I don’t suppose he will.”
She stepped inside, walking carefully as if afraid of disturbing someone, and Frank followed. The kitchen looked entirely too neat. His mother had kept a clean kitchen and so had Sarah, back before they were married. Now they had a cook, and Velvet kept their kitchen immaculate, too, but none of those kitchens looked like this.
“No one cooks in this kitchen,” Teo said.
That was it: not a trace of food anywhere. “I wonder why not?”
“Because no one lives here yet,” Teo said. “The people downstairs, they tell me Mr. Esposito rented this place and had all the furniture delivered, but no one moved in.” She stepped to the doorway that led to the front room but stopped short when she saw the dried pool of blood on the floor. “Oh.”
“I guess that’s where he was killed.” Frank stepped around her and went in, carefully skirting the bloodstain. He studied the room, walking around the perimeter and examining every piece of furniture. A brand-new sofa and two matching chairs flanked the fireplace. A large cabinet with glass doors stood against one wall and a buffet against another. Frank opened doors and drawers and found all of the storage areas empty. Heavy drapes had been hung at the windows, but they were open to let in the sunlight. Missing were the knickknacks and pictures that people used to make their living space feel like home. Even the poorest immigrants had a photograph or two of loved ones left behind or a treasured memento to set on the mantel. Here only a light film of dust adorned the flat surfaces.
Teo still hadn’t entered the front room. She stood in the kitchen, probably intimidated by the blood. She did look a bit pale. Frank walked past her and across the kitchen to the back room. The window in this room opened into a tiny courtyard where little sunlight penetrated, so the dim light made it difficult to see. Still, the room was clearly furnished as a bedroom.
A brass bedstead nearly filled the small space, but they’d also managed to squeeze in a clothes cupboard and a dressing table. While the other two rooms had looked bare and unlived-in, this room had certainly been used. The bed was unmade, the sheets tangled and the coverlet lying half on the floor. A silver-backed dresser set lay haphazardly on the dresser, the comb and brush obviously lying where they’d been set down after their last use, the mirror with its reflective surface turned down. The silver was bright and newly polished. Frank could easily see the few hairs tangled in the brush’s bristles were blond.
He pulled open the top drawer of the dresser and to his surprise, he found it full of silky, lacy undergarments. They might once have been carefully folded, but now they looked as if they’d been rummaged through. He knew enough about ladies’ clothes since marrying Sarah that he recognized these as expensive. More expensive than any women in this neighborhood could afford.
“Teo, will you look at these things and tell me what you think?” he asked, stepping back to give her room.
Teo came into the bedroom with obvious reluctance, but that faded when she saw the silver items on the dresser and the silk tumbled in the drawer. “Where did this come from?” she asked, although he didn’t think she expected him to answer. She quickly checked the items in the drawer, then closed it and opened the next one. There she found a few shirtwaists, still neatly folded, and several pairs of gloves.
Without being asked, she went to the cupboard and pulled open the door. Inside hung some ladies’ garments on pegs. As Teo pulled each one out and held it up, Malloy could see they were skirts and jackets, but in colors and fabrics too bright and fine for this neighborhood. Finally, she pulled out a dark brown skirt of obviously inferior quality.
“That’s strange,” Teo muttered.
“What’s strange?”
“Everything here is brand new except for a few things, and they’re old and worn.”
“What’s old and worn?”
“Some . . . undergarments,” she said, not meeting his eye. “One of the shirtwaists in that drawer.” She indicated the dresser with a jutting of her chin. “And this skirt.”
“What do you make of that?”
“I don’t know, but . . .” Teo said, frowning as she considered the possibilities. “The neighbors, they said they saw a woman here.”
“A woman with yellow hair.”
Teo nodded. “There’s yellow hair in the brush.”
“I noticed.”
“They said she was here for a few days.”
“Was she a prisoner?”
“I don’t know. She was by herself for some of the time, and nobody saw a guard or anybody who looked like they were guarding her, but she might’ve been locked in or tied up or something.”
“What do you make of the clothes?”
Teo shook her head, then hung the skirt back in the cupboard. “Maybe she came here wearing the old clothes, and then she put on some of the new things.”
“Most women would, especially if these things were for her,” Frank said.
“Yes, you are right. Who wouldn’t? And when she leaves, she is wearing the new clothes.”
“Do you think she intended to come back?”
Teo gave this some thought. “If not, why would she leave all these nice things behind?”
“Maybe she doesn’t have anything to carry them in,” Frank guessed.
“Oh, that is true, too. She cannot walk down the street carrying a pile of clothing.”
“No, people would think she stole it and maybe call a policeman,” Frank said.
“Probably not a policeman,” Teo said with a small smile. “They do not trust the police here, but everyone would know where she went, in case she did steal it, so the owner could go after her.” Teo looked around again. “Except . . .” She pointed to the floor just to the right of the bedroom door.
Frank looked down and saw a medium-sized alligator Gladstone bag sitting next to the dresser. He squatted down and opened it to find it completely empty. “So she did have a way to carry things away with her.” But for some reason she hadn’t used it. Maybe she hadn’t wanted anything to slow her down. Or maybe she was planning to return. Anything was possible. “So she didn’t carry away anything except what she was wearing, and she left her old clothes here. Did anybody see her leave?”
“Yes. She left yesterday, in the morning.”
“Alone?”
“Yes. They said Esposito was here all night and the night before, too, but he had already gone that morning. Then she left, too.”
“Did they know who she was?” Teo shook her head, but her gaze shifted and she no longer would meet his eye. “What is it?”
“They said the woman they saw was wearing a blue dress.”
“Does that mean something?”
“When Jane Harding returned to the settlement, she was wearing a blue dress I never saw before.”
* * *
* * *
Sarah was getting way too much experience at posting bail. Mr. Nicholson’s assistant was very helpful, as he had been the last time they’d been here, and took care of the paperwork. She and Maeve didn’t even have to go across the street to the Tombs. Gino met up with them at Nicholson’s office after his release, coming in to find her and Maeve waiting for him. They both jumped to their feet to greet him.
He looked a bit worse for wear. Was that a bruise on his chin? His usually immaculate clothes were dirty and his hair was mussed. The worst part was his eyes, though. They were haunted, and it nearly broke her heart to see it.
“It’s going to be all right,” she said, laying a hand on his arm.
“Is it?” he asked with a bitterness she’d never heard from him before.
“Of course it is,” Mr. Nicholson said cheerfully. He was a large man with a loud voice and was partial to equally loud suits. If Maeve hadn�
��t vouched for him before their first meeting, Sarah would never have believed him to be even competent, much less an expert at his chosen profession. “Don’t worry about a thing. Mrs. Malloy has posted your bail, young man. I know I don’t have to explain how things like this are usually handled, so I’ll wait until I hear from you before I take any action.”
“I didn’t kill Esposito,” he said.
“Of course you didn’t,” Nicholson agreed, still smiling.
“No, I really didn’t.” He turned to Sarah. “I’m not an idiot.”
“Of course you aren’t,” Sarah said.
“Although we are all wondering why you went up to East Harlem to find him in the first place,” Maeve said. She was furious about all this, for some reason, and Sarah was pretty sure she knew what that reason was.
“I’m wondering that myself now,” Gino said.
Oh dear. He never usually let her get away with her snide remarks.
“We’d best get you home,” Sarah said. The sooner they could discuss all this in private, the better.
“My parents will be pretty upset. Do they know yet?”
Sarah exchanged a glance with Maeve. “No. We haven’t told anyone. Teo knows of course. She’s the one who told us you’d been arrested.”
“Teo? How did she find out?”
“I’m sure half the people in East Harlem went to tell her as soon as it happened,” Maeve said. “Then she came to the office to tell Mr. Malloy.”
Gino glanced around in surprise. “Where is he?”
“He’s in East Harlem, looking for the real killer,” Maeve said.
Only then did Gino appear to notice how angry Maeve was. “What are you so mad about?”
“About you! What were you thinking, going up to Italian Harlem to see Nunzio Esposito all by yourself? Without even telling anybody where you were going?”
Gino blinked in surprise at her vehemence, and Sarah had to admit she was a little shocked herself.
“We can discuss this when we get home,” Sarah said. “Thank you so much for your help, Mr. Nicholson. We’ll be in touch.”
She herded the baffled Gino and the furious Maeve out of the office. When they reached the lobby of the building, Sarah stopped them.
“We aren’t taking you home to your family, Gino.”
“Why not?”
“What’s wrong with you?” Maeve demanded. “Because we are afraid you won’t be safe there, that’s why. The Black Hand thinks you killed Esposito. Do you think they’re going to wait for a trial?”
“Oh,” Gino said, visibly shocked. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Well, think of it,” Maeve advised.
“Maeve, we don’t need to argue about this now. The important thing is to get Gino someplace out of sight. Malloy said to take you to our house, Gino, and he’ll meet us there when he’s finished in East Harlem.”
“I’ve got to let my parents know I’m fine and out of jail,” Gino argued.
“They don’t even know you were in jail,” Maeve said impatiently.
Sarah gave Maeve what she hoped was a quelling look and said, “And certainly you can send word to them as soon as we get to our house, but we don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stay with them. That’s the first place the Black Hand would look for you.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“And you don’t want to put your family in danger, do you?” Sarah added. “Now let’s find a cab and get home.”
They flagged down a pair of Hansom cabs, which were a tight squeeze for two people, much less three, so Sarah convinced Maeve to go alone while she went with Gino.
“You could have gone with Maeve,” Gino said when they were on their way. He’d tried to scoot over as far as he could but they were still touching from hip to knee.
One did indeed need to be on close terms with someone before agreeing to share a Hansom cab with them. “Malloy said not to leave you alone.”
“Why not?”
She gave him a pitying look. Gino really wasn’t thinking clearly today. “Because he’s afraid you’ll go off and do something foolish.”
“But—”
“Which you already did once today and look where it got you,” she reminded him. “And I didn’t think you’d want to listen to Maeve yelling at you the whole way home, so I appointed myself your guardian.”
“What’s wrong with Maeve anyway? What’s she so mad about?”
“About you getting arrested, I suppose. That’s the only important thing that happened today.”
“Why would she . . . ? She wasn’t mad when Mr. Malloy got arrested. It’s the same thing.”
Was it? Not to Maeve, apparently. “I’m sure she’s just worried about you. Malloy wasn’t ever in any real danger, but you are.”
“We don’t know that.”
Sarah glared at him until he relented.
“All right, I guess the Black Hand might be looking for revenge if they think I killed Esposito, but I didn’t.”
“It may not matter. If one of them killed Esposito, they’d love to pin it on you and then kill you to make it stick.”
Gino, to give him credit, looked suitably appalled at the very thought.
“And that is why Maeve is angry, so stop pretending you’re not scared and start acting sensibly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said meekly. She thought he really meant it.
* * *
* * *
Frank should have gone downtown himself to bail Gino out of jail. Then he wouldn’t be stuck at home waiting and imagining Sarah and Maeve had run into all sorts of problems. Or worse, that someone had already managed to get revenge on Gino and he was in a hospital or a funeral home somewhere. He’d never been so happy to finally hear the front door opening.
Maeve came in alone.
“Where’s Sarah and Gino?” he demanded.
“They’re right behind me. We took separate cabs.”
“So you got him bailed out all right?”
“Of course. He wanted to go right home, but Mrs. Malloy convinced him that wasn’t a good idea. Where are the children?”
“In with my mother. They already had their dinner.”
“I’ll get them ready for bed, then.” She sounded tired, which never happened even when she really was tired.
He wanted to stop her and ask her what was wrong, but he had no idea how to do that. “Don’t you want to get something to eat first?”
“I’m not hungry.”
Maybe Sarah could figure out what was wrong with her.
By the time Sarah and Gino arrived, Maeve had taken Brian and Catherine upstairs to get bathed and changed into their nightclothes. Their cook, Velvet, had kept dinner warm, so the three of them sat down to eat. While they ate, Gino told Frank how he had come to be arrested.
“What made you think you needed to see Esposito alone?” Frank asked, unable to hide his anger.
“I knew you’d be mad about that, but I thought . . . He’s an Italian. I mean he was. I thought maybe I could remind him how much damage he’s doing to his own people.”
“And convince him to do it to other people instead?” Frank asked sarcastically.
“I know, you’re right, but I had to try. I couldn’t sleep a wink last night for thinking about it. By morning, it just seemed like the right thing to do.”
“I think we can all agree it wasn’t the most sensible course of action,” Sarah said, quite reasonably. “And since we can’t change what happened, we need to put our efforts into making sure nothing even worse comes of it. I for one am extremely curious to know why a policeman showed up to arrest you at the exact moment you went into the flat.”
“And why the door was so conveniently open for you,” Frank added, “although maybe the killer was in too much of a hurry to thin
k about locking the door behind him.”
“I did wonder about both of those things,” Gino said.
“Did you figure anything out?” Sarah asked.
“Not really.”
“Who knew you were going there?” Frank asked.
“Nobody. I mean, I didn’t tell anybody what I was going to do.”
“Who saw you going into the building this morning?” Sarah asked.
Gino considered for a moment. “Anybody who was on the street, but maybe somebody was watching it.”
“Wait,” Sarah said. “How did you know where Esposito would be?”
“I went to his saloon first. I didn’t think he’d be there, but I thought they might tell me where to find him.”
“Why would they do that?” Frank asked, genuinely baffled at his logic.
Gino shrugged sheepishly. “I figured I could trick them. I told the fellow who came to the door that it was an emergency and I needed to see Esposito and that it was about the woman. I figured if Esposito really was involved with some woman, they might believe me and tell me where he was.”
“And it worked?” Frank asked in amazement.
“It did. The man who answered the door at the saloon told me where the flat was. Teo had told me what street it was on, but she didn’t know the address or which apartment.”
“So this fellow sent you right to where Esposito’s body was and then a copper shows up a minute later and arrests you for his murder.”
Gino had the grace to wince. “I guess that’s exactly what happened.”
“Oh, Gino, they tricked you,” Sarah said. “You said someone brought the policeman up to the flat. Did you see who it was?”
“No. I just heard him say something to the cop, but I didn’t recognize his voice. It could’ve been anybody.”
“But it was probably somebody from the Black Hand.”
“At least it was somebody who knew Esposito was dead, maybe because he was the killer,” Sarah said. “We don’t know for sure it was the Black Hand.”
“It was probably that fellow we insulted yesterday who brought the cop,” Gino said.
Murder on Pleasant Avenue Page 9
