Stunned, Sarah could only stand there staring until the people walking by began to make remarks about her blocking the way. Then she started blindly down the street, walking in the opposite direction, as much to get away as to get to someplace else.
The worst part was that she didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt. Other people had certainly advised her that she should confine herself to associations with people of her own social class. Her parents had done so many times, as had her old friends. Some were well meaning, and others were snobs. She had ignored them all and done what she pleased.
What she pleased was to continue the work that her husband Tom had begun, providing medical services to everyone who needed it, regardless of their ability to pay. Sarah wasn’t a physician, but she could save the lives of mothers and their babies, so that’s what she did.
In the six months she’d known Frank Malloy, she thought he’d come to respect her, and even to approve of her. The last thing she’d ever expected was to hear him say she should be with her “own kind.” An hour ago, she would have said that Frank Malloy was her own kind! Now he was warning her away from him.
She had to admit it: he’d hurt her. She hadn’t known until this moment how much she valued his opinion of her. When the people she loved most in the world begged her at every opportunity to turn her back on all that she found fulfilling in life, he had accepted her as a competent professional, someone whom he consulted on matters of importance. She’d even helped him solve a number of murders. Just last week, she’d kept an innocent person from being executed, and all on her own, she’d made sure her neighbor’s son got to keep his position at the bank Richard Dennis owned. Even Malloy couldn’t have influenced Richard the way she had!
The thought stopped her in her tracks and caused the gentleman behind her to nearly fall in his hasty effort to avoid colliding with her. She apologized profusely as he regained his balance and sidled around her, not certain what to make of a woman so lost in thought she was paying no attention to anything else.
Only then did she realize she was back on the corner where Malloy had left her. She’d made a complete circle of the block.
“Malloy, you’re jealous!” she whispered to the spot where he had disappeared with Brian into the traffic. She really shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d been quite upset when she told him she was going to the opera with Richard. She’d thought they had parted on good terms last Friday, but his behavior today proved she was wrong. Now all she had to do was figure out if he really did think she should stay with her own kind.
And if he did, what she should do about it.
Frank should have been pleased. A woman had been found dead in City Hall Park, and he’d been selected for the case because of his reputation for handling difficult situations with care. Nobody knew who the woman was, but she’d been well dressed. Nobody knew how she’d died, either, but if she’d been killed – in broad daylight on the doorstep of City Hall – nobody wanted a scandal. Unlike many of his colleagues, Frank could be counted upon not to offend the wrong people and not to let the press hear anything they shouldn’t.
The Elevated Train ran right down to City Hall, so Frank got on at Bleeker Street. The morning rush was over, and he got a seat all to himself and a few minutes to collect his thoughts. Unfortunately, he didn’t particularly want to collect his thoughts, because every time he did, Sarah Brandt turned up in them.
He hadn’t admitted to himself how badly he’d wanted her there when Brian got his cast off. She’d gone to so much trouble to make sure her friend operated on his son, but it was more than that. He’d needed her there. He’d needed to share the anxiety and the joy with her. She was the only one who could truly understand.
Of course, he’d told her she didn’t have to come. He didn’t want her to feel any sense of obligation. Or pity. He and Brian were nothing to her, after all. Yet still he’d been hoping…
And then she’d come. Breathless from hurrying, her cheeks rosy and her eyes shining, she’d looked like a goddess. Brian had thrown himself into her arms, and Frank had longed to do the same. Jealous of his own son, jealous of the doctor whose friendship entitled him to call her Sarah, and jealous of Richard Dennis, whose position in life gave him the right to court her, Frank had hardly dared look her in the eye for fear he would betray the feelings to which he had no right.
As the train lurched to a stop at the next station and passengers began to come and go in the car, Frank rubbed his head. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Every time he closed his eyes, he’d see her face and the hurt in her eyes just before he’d snatched Brian from her arms and fled.
She’d never speak to him again, but that was as it should be. She never should have spoken to him in the first place. He never should have gotten to know her. He never should have allowed her to help him solve any murders. And he never should have let her help Brian.
But he had. She’d done him a favor, her good deed for the year. She’d been repaying him for the cases he’d solved for her, because she was the only one who cared if they ever were or not. They were even. Or at least she needn’t feel she was in his debt.
But each time his son took a step, he realized he would be in her debt forever.
That probably also meant he’d remember her forever. It couldn’t be any harder than losing Kathleen, he reasoned. He’d thought the pain of losing his wife would kill him, and here he was, three years later, alive and well. Of course, Kathleen had died, so he didn’t have any choice about accepting that. He couldn’t see her again, and she wasn’t there somewhere in the city, living without him. He’d certainly never had to worry about meeting her accidentally and not knowing how he’d react if he did. He’d had no choice but to let Kathleen go.
Sarah Brandt was another story, at least until one of them was dead. Maybe then he’d be able to stop thinking about her. And wondering if things might have been different if… if everything about them had been different.
Finally, the train stopped at City Hall, and Frank rose wearily from his seat and made his way out of the station. Glad for the distraction from his own, painful thoughts, he let himself be caught up in the roar of the street. People of all descriptions milled and mingled in the shadow of the city’s government. Each day, hundreds of them took the train or walked across the bridge from Brooklyn. Dozens of street vendors waited, ready to sell them whatever they might need. The crowds ebbed and flowed around the government buildings and those nearby on Newspaper Row, where the major papers had their offices.
City Hall itself sprawled for a block, its marble front gleaming in the morning sunlight. Wide steps led up to the columned portico, inviting all who were not too intimidated to enter and be heard.
For several years the politicians had been talking about building a new City Hall. This one was too small for such a large city, and the cheap brownstone they’d originally used on the back of the building was crumbling. Nearly a hundred years ago, no one had imagined the city growing northward beyond that point, so the back of the building hadn’t seemed important. Now, of course, the city stretched northward for miles, and thousands of people saw the back of City Hall with its crumbling brownstone every day.
The report had said the dead woman had been found in the park across from City Hall. Frank crossed the busy street and entered the relative sanctuary of the park. Recent rains had stripped most of the leaves from the trees, but the grass was still green, or at least what he could see of it beneath the leafy covering. He quickly spotted his destination. A small crowd had gathered and several uniformed officers were keeping them back, guarding the place where the body lay.
One of the officers had covered the woman with his coat. She was lying on the ground in front of a bench, as if she’d been sitting there, tried to rise, and fallen down dead. Frank saw no signs of a struggle. The leaves on the ground around her were undisturbed. He pushed his way into the circle the officers were maintaining.