Murder on St. Mark's Place (25 page)

Now Sarah wanted to throttle him, but she restrained herself. He surely wouldn’t tell her anything if she did. “So you do remember her?”

“I only sold two pairs of the red shoes, and the other girl was an American.”

He really did remember. He was just being difficult. “Do you remember the man who was with her, the one who bought her the shoes?”

He frowned again. “I ain’t too sure. Is there some kind of reward or something?”

“If the information leads us to the killer, there’s a reward of one hundred dollars,” Sarah lied without batting an eye. Quite frankly, if someone could tell her who the killer was, she’d gladly pay the hundred dollars herself.

The man suddenly seemed much friendlier than he had been. “Can’t blame me for being careful, can you? Don’t know just who might be coming in here, asking questions. Don’t want to get mixed up in no murder, now do I? Can’t have the police in here. Bad for business, you know.”

Sarah could just imagine. “The man who bought the shoes,” she prodded.

“Well, they don’t usually introduce themselves, if you know what I mean, and I don’t notice the men much any-ways. But I remember the girl well enough. She was babbling in German, and he kept telling her to talk English, and she kept saying, ‘Oh, Will, they’re so pretty,’ or something like that.”

Sarah felt the blood rushing from her head. “Will? She called him Will?”

“I think so.” He was hedging, seeing Sarah’s excitement but not knowing what it meant. “I wouldn’t want to get nobody in trouble, but I’m pretty sure that’s what I remember. Now who did you say was going to pay this reward?”

“Her family,” Sarah said, “and I’ll certainly tell them how helpful you’ve been.”

Now she had it, proof that all the murdered girls had known the man named Will. He must be the one they were looking for. She couldn’t wait to get back to the city and tell Malloy. She was mentally answering all of the questions she imagined Malloy would ask when she almost bumped into Dirk in the corridor outside the shop.

“You look particularly satisfied,” he remarked with a grin. “Did you find your killer?”

If only it were so easy. “I learned that a man named Will bought the red shoes for Gerda. That means she really did know him, and all the other girls knew him, too!”

His smile vanished. “What other girls?”

Sarah was so excited, she had forgotten her resolve not to tell Dirk about the other murders. Now, of course, there was no reason not to.

“There have been other murders in which girls like Gerda were killed in the same way. That’s how we knew about this man named Will. They had all been seeing him right before they were killed. We knew Gerda had been seeing someone new, too, but we didn’t know his name, at least not until today.”

He was horrified. “So you think this Will character must be the killer? That he’s killed ... how many girls did you say?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, hedging. “Three more that we know about, but there may be others. We only found out about these by accident, because some of Gerda’s friends knew the other victims.”

Dirk was pale. For all his worldliness, he had probably never been exposed to something so ugly before. He tried his usual grin, but it was crooked and strained. “So now that you know this fellow Will is connected to all the murdered girls, how do you propose finding him?”

“We don’t have to talk about this anymore, Dirk,” Sarah said kindly. “I can see you’re upset and—”

“Oh, please, I’ll be more upset if I don’t know everything. I must believe that you have a plan for catching this ... this monster, or I won’t be able to sleep at night.”

“Actually, I’m not sure we do have a plan. Mr. Malloy might be able to come up with some ideas, but ... I’m afraid that photographer was right. Unless I can find a picture of this fellow, or someone who knows what he looks like, we might never find him.”

He was still upset, but he asked no other questions. He just started walking, and Sarah went with him.

By unspoken consent, they strolled over to the entrance to the Vista Room, which was actually the head of the elephant. Long windows on either side, that were actually the slits that formed the elephant’s eyes, allowed a panoramic view of the ocean, the beaches, and the Island itself. Other visitors were clustered in front of them, so Sarah and Dirk stood back, waiting for an opening.

“Perhaps one of the dead girl’s friends would know this Will,” he suggested. “Have you asked them?”

She almost said that of course she had asked them, but then she caught herself. She’d asked them to give her the names of the men Gerda had been seeing. They hadn’t mentioned a Will, so naturally, she hadn’t asked if they knew a man named Will. “No! No, I didn’t!” she exclaimed.

Dirk smiled. It was a funny, crooked thing, but a smile nonetheless. He was trying so hard to pretend he was as unaffected as she by the subject of murder and murderers. “Then you must speak to them again. Why, for all you know, one of them might be able to lead you straight to this man. Who do you think would be the most likely to help you?”

Now he was even trying to help solve the case. She could hardly fault him for that, though, not when she was trying to do the same thing. “Gerda had three friends she worked with. They knew everything about her, so it seems strange she didn’t tell them this fellow’s name.”

“Maybe not so strange. Maybe she wanted to keep him to herself,” he suggested. “Girls like that are very jealous, especially when they find a generous companion.”

He should know. She considered his theory. “Or maybe it was just the opposite. Maybe the other girls knew him, and she didn’t want them to know she was seeing him.”

“Because she’d stolen him from one of them.”

“Exactly!”

“Now all you need to do is decide which of them was most likely to have been his first choice,” Dirk said.

“Oh, that’s easy enough. Lisle would be any man’s first choice,” Sarah said, thinking aloud.

“Lisle?” he echoed, arching his eyebrow at her. “Another German girl, obviously. From the same neighborhood?”

“Yes.”

“This fellow doesn’t go far afield, does he? He should be easy to find.”

Sarah only hoped he was right.

 

T
HE NEXT MORNING, Mrs. Elsworth was on Sarah’s doorstep bright and early, her wrinkled face pale and drawn and her graying hair done up so hastily, the knot sat crooked on her head. “Oh, Mrs. Brandt, I had to see that you were all right. I had the most terrible dream last night, and then this morning...” She clutched at her chest, gasping for breath, and Sarah quickly took her arm and led her inside.

“Sit down right here and let me listen to your heart,” she said, putting her in the chair beside her desk in the examining room. “Are you having any pain?”

“Goodness, no,” she exclaimed breathlessly. “I’m just ... I can’t seem to get my breath. I was so frightened when I saw it.”

“The dream, you mean?” Sarah asked, reaching into her medical bag and pulling out the stethoscope.

“No, the cricket!”

Sarah was just about to put the stethoscope in her ears, but she stopped at this. “You were frightened by a cricket?”

“Not just any cricket! Everyone knows that a cricket in the house is good luck. Unless it’s a white cricket, of course. And this one was. Pure white, and you know what that means!”

“No, I don’t,” Sarah admitted.

Mrs. Elsworth closed her eyes and laid her hand over her heart again. Sarah reached out, fully expecting her to keel over and ready to break the fall, but she didn’t move. She only said, “Death.”

“Death?” Sarah echoed stupidly.

Mrs. Elsworth opened her eyes and looked straight at her. “The white cricket means a death is coming to someone close.”

“Oh, I’m sure that—”

“And then there was my dream. You were in it, Mrs. Brandt. You were running and running, trying to catch someone, but you couldn’t, and then I saw her. I couldn’t see her face, but she was dead, and I was so afraid ... Well, I had to make sure you were all right, didn’t I?”

“And as you can see. I’m perfectly fine. I’d be better if you’d allow me to listen to your heart, though. Just to make sure you’re fine. too,” she added with a small smile.

“It’s really not necessary, but if it will make you happy,” she conceded.

Sarah was relieved to hear the older woman’s heart beating rapidly but strongly.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Mrs. Elsworth said as Sarah put the stethoscope away.

“I’d be a poor neighbor if I were less concerned about you than you are about me,” Sarah pointed out.

Mrs. Elsworth sighed. “At least I’m not going out at all hours of the day and night looking for a killer.”

“Neither am I,” Sarah said.

“You were out yesterday, weren’t you? All day. I think that’s what brought on my dream, worrying about you. I knew it wasn’t a delivery. I saw the man who called for you yesterday morning.”

Of course she had. No one came onto the street that Mrs. Elsworth didn’t see.

“If you saw the man who called for me, you should have known there was nothing to worry about.”

Mrs. Elsworth sniffed. “I hope you won’t think I’m meddling, but I don’t believe that fellow is a proper companion for you, Mrs. Brandt.”

“Dirk?” Sarah asked in surprise. He had called for her in a hansom cab, which had seemed excessive to Sarah, since they were taking the trolley to Coney Island. She would have thought that would have impressed Mrs. Elsworth, however. “Why do you think he’s not proper?”

“I know that look,” she said. “He’s a man who’s seen too much of the world. He’ll always be restless and angry. No woman will ever satisfy him for long.”

Sarah was awed that her neighbor could make such an accurate assessment of Dirk Schyler just by catching a quick glimpse of him. “You don’t need to worry about me, Mrs. Elsworth. I won’t be seeing him again.”

“That is a relief,” she admitted, managing a strained smile. She still looked shaken, though. Sarah might consider her superstitions ridiculous, but Mrs. Elsworth took them very seriously indeed, and this one had truly frightened her. Not badly enough that she forgot important things, however. “And how is that nice Mr. Malloy?” she asked. “I haven’t seen him around for a white.”

Sarah managed not to choke at the description of Malloy as “nice.” “I haven’t seen him around in a while either,” she said, “so I have no idea how he is.”

“Now, you should know Mr. Malloy would be a much better match for you than that fellow from yesterday, Mrs. Brandt,” Mrs. Elsworth said.

This time Sarah did choke. “Are you serious?” she asked when she could talk again.

“Perfectly. Oh, I know he’s Irish and a Catholic, but I don’t imagine that would stop either of you if you decided you wanted to be together.”

“I must say, you have an odd idea of what’s proper and what isn‘t,” Sarah said, thinking her mother’s—and Malloy’s mother’s and everyone else’s—was exactly the opposite.

“Not odd,” Mrs. Elsworth said. “Just practical. You’ll understand when you’re older, or at least I hope you will. Well, now that I’ve satisfied myself that you’re all right, I’ll let you be about your business. Just promise that you’ll be careful, won’t you? Dreams are sometimes omens, and the cricket definitely was. You mark my words.”

“I’m always careful,” Sarah assured her, not quite accurately. She would be until Gerda’s killer was caught, though. And with any luck, that wouldn’t be long.

 

SARAH WAS JUST putting on her hat that afternoon to go out when someone knocked on her door. She was surprised to see Malloy standing on her doorstep. She hadn’t sent for him yet, because she’d wanted to talk to Gerda’s friends first. If one of them knew this Will fellow, that would save a lot of time. She’d been planning to catch them as they left Faircloth’s this evening, but this was even better. Malloy could go with her to question the girls, and she could fill him in on the way.

But then she got a look at his face. “What’s happened?” she asked in alarm, thinking of his son.

“That girl Lisle has been murdered.”

S
ARAH COULDN’T GET HER BREATH, AND SHE didn’t resist at all when Malloy took her arm and guided her to a chair, just as she had done for Mrs. Elsworth that morning.

“Are you sure?” she asked, knowing she was grasping at a straw but praying it would hold nonetheless.

“As sure as we can be. Her face is pretty bad.”

She felt the gorge rising in her throat and covered her mouth with both hands. .

“You’re not going to faint on me, are you? Put your head down,” he said.

“No, I’m fine,” she said, alarmed at how her voice sounded. She didn’t want to be a detective anymore. She didn’t want to know about any other young lives being snuffed out.

“You don’t look fine,” Malloy said, his own voice alarming as well. He sounded frightened. “You got any smelling salts around here?”

She did, of course, but she wasn’t going to need them. Her head was clearing now. She swallowed down hard on the sickness in her throat and clung fiercely to her pride. “Just tell me what happened. Tell me everything.”

“You aren’t in any condition to hear about it,” he said. “I just wanted you to know so you didn’t have to find out from some stranger.”

She drew in a deep breath. “Thank you for that. I was on my way to Faircloths. I wanted to talk to Lisle”—she had to stop and swallow after saying the girl’s name—“about something I discovered at Coney Island yesterday.”

“You found out something?” he asked, sounding insulted. “Were you planning to tell me about it?”

“Yes, of course, just as soon as I’d talked to Lisle and the others.”

He pulled up her desk chair and sat down facing her. “Tell me now.”

Sarah drew another breath. She was feeling more like herself, but the pain was beginning. She could see Lisle, the fragile-looking girl with the will of iron. Sarah remembered how frightened she had been about meeting George and taking him out of the dance hall so Malloy could question him. She’d been too frightened to go home that night, so she’d stayed at Sarah’s instead. Sleeping in Sarah’s bed, she’d looked like an innocent child, with her hand curled against her cheek and her corn-yellow hair spread out on the pillow.