Sarah almost winced when she thought of Emilia. “You haven’t asked me what inspired my sudden desire to help the mission.”
“I assumed it was a result of our visit there.”
Sarah took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “I wish that were all. I had a very unpleasant experience today. Do you remember that girl Emilia whom we met at the mission?”
He frowned in concentration. “I’m afraid I don’t remember any of the girls in particular.”
“She was the one who answered the door. Mrs. Wells said she’d been seduced by a man who refused to marry her and her family had disowned her.”
Plainly, he hadn’t seen any reason to remember the incident. “Has she approached you for help?”
“No, not exactly. She was found dead in City Hall Park this morning.”
“Dead?” he echoed in surprise. “A young girl like that? What happened?”
“She was murdered.”
An expression of distaste crossed his handsome face. “How unfortunate. But I suppose you can’t be too surprised with that kind of girl.”
Sarah wanted to demand to know what he meant by “that kind of girl,” but she refrained. She had little hope of changing Richard Dennis’s prejudices. She’d settle for getting his help in changing other people’s lives. “She was wearing my clothes when she died.”
“Your clothes?” he echoed, obviously confused.
“The clothes I donated to the mission on Sunday. That made me think, ‘There but for the grace of God go I.’ I don’t want any other girls to die like that.”
He nodded, his expression grave with understanding, although Sarah suspected he couldn’t even begin to understand. “Certainly not. And don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to help. Would your mother like for me to give her a list of Hazel’s particular friends?”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate that. I can’t thank you enough for helping with this.”
“I’m glad to do it, but I’m afraid I will have to have a favor in return,” he added with a smile.
“What kind of favor?” she asked, intrigued.
“Some friends of mine are giving a party on Halloween. I was hoping you would accompany me.”
Sarah’s mother would be so pleased. “Of course,” she said.
6
SARAH THOUGHT ENOUGH TIME HAD PASSED SINCE Malloy had put her into the Hansom cab. He would have long since been to the mission and gone, so it was now safe for her to go there herself and speak with Mrs. Wells about her plans. If she also happened to learn more about Emilia while she was there, she’d certainly be happy to share that information with Detective Sergeant Frank Malloy.
The girl who opened the door to her had red hair and freckles, and she looked at Sarah suspiciously. News of Emilia’s death would certainly have upset everyone in the house and made them wary. Sarah asked to speak with Mrs. Wells and was admitted and instructed to wait in the parlor.
Mrs. Wells appeared a few minutes later. Her expression was somber, her smile of greeting sad. “Mrs. Brandt,” she said. “How good of you to come. Won’t you sit down?” She directed Sarah to the horsehair sofa and took a seat beside her, her back still rigidly straight, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Like most women, she had been taught to put on a good face in public, no matter what her private pain might be.
“I’m terribly sorry about Emilia,” Sarah said.
“So are we,” Mrs. Wells said. “She had struggled for a long time against the forces of evil. At least we can take comfort that she is at peace now.”
Sarah thought that an odd thing to say about someone so young and healthy as Emilia had been, but she knew her view of life and death was different from Mrs. Wells’s.
“I was surprised,” Mrs. Wells continued, not waiting for Sarah to respond, “that you had been asked to identify Emilia’s body.”
Sarah heard the unspoken question. She wondered how Malloy had explained it to her. “Detective Sergeant Malloy recognized the hat Emilia was wearing as one he’d seen me wear.”
“He must know you very well,” Mrs. Wells observed. “Few men would remember a lady’s hat.”
Sarah wasn’t sure if she heard a note of disapproval in Mrs. Wells’s voice or not. Few people would think it proper for her to be on intimate terms with a policeman, since the police were considered as corrupt as the criminals they arrested. She reminded herself that her own mother disapproved of her acquaintance with Malloy. “I have been able to assist Mr. Malloy on several of his cases – cases that involved people with whom I was acquainted,” she added when Mrs. Wells’s eyebrows rose a notch.
Her eyebrows rose even higher, but she said, “I suppose as a midwife, you must encounter all sorts of people.” Obviously, she wouldn’t have expected Sarah to meet people who got themselves murdered in the ordinary course of her life.
“Just as you do, in your work,” Sarah pointed out.
“I’m sorry if I seem overly curious about your personal affairs, Mrs. Brandt, but I don’t believe I’ve ever known the police to be particularly vigilant about solving crimes involving people like Emilia. But Mr. Malloy has made an extraordinary effort, and I was wondering why.”
Sarah couldn’t take offense at that. Mrs. Wells was absolutely correct. “You’ll be happy to know that Mr. Malloy is unusually conscientious. He has also promised to do everything he can to find out who killed Emilia so brutally and bring her killer to justice.”
The blood seemed to drain from the other woman’s face, and she pressed a handkerchief to her lips. Sarah instantly regretted reminding her so coldly of Emilia’s death.
“Are you ill?” Sarah asked in concern, leaning forward and ready to catch her if she fainted.
“No, I’m fine,” she said, a little weakly. She drew a deep breath and forced herself to look up at Sarah as if to prove her assessment of her own condition. “That poor, dear girl. It’s just been very difficult…”
“I’m sure it has. The other girls must be terribly upset.”
“I’ve tried to set a good example, of course,” Mrs. Wells explained. “We must not grieve for those who have gone to be with the Lord. They are much happier than we can ever imagine.”
Sarah supposed this was a good way to deal with grief. She liked to think of Tom as living happily in the hereafter. It had never been enough to make her content to live without him, however. “I suppose Emilia had a very unhappy life before she came here,” she ventured, hoping to allow Mrs. Wells an opportunity to tell her about the girl in whom she had invested so much effort. As Sarah knew, talking about the deceased helped ease the pain of loss. Not to mention, she might reveal some useful information in the process.
“Her family was no worse than most, I suppose,” Mrs. Wells said, not looking at Sarah. She seemed to be speaking more to herself, lost in her own memories. “The Italians are of an emotional temperament, as I’m sure you know. Emilia was a sensitive girl. She suffered more than most under her parents’ inability to control themselves. I’m afraid that made her easy prey for the wrong kind of man.”
“You mentioned that she had been seduced by a man who wouldn’t marry her,” Sarah reminded her.
“Emilia wasn’t his first conquest, I’m afraid. He promised her marriage, but he had no intention of keeping that promise. Why should he when Emilia had already granted him every privilege of marriage without it?”
Sarah had heard this same story many times, innocent girls betrayed by faithless lovers.
“How did she come to the mission?” Sarah asked.
Mrs. Wells sighed. “The first time she was desperate. When her lover refused to marry her, she had enough self-respect left to leave him, but her parents refused to take her back. She’d disgraced them, they said. As if people like that had any honor to begin with.”