“That’s what I said. Gregory.” Amy smiled sweetly. “Things have changed a lot in a few days, haven’t they, Mrs. Brandt? Mrs. Van Orner was so mean to me, and now I never have to worry about her again.”
Sarah couldn’t manage a reply.
Mrs. Spratt-Williams exchanged a quick glance with Sarah, then turned back to Amy. “Mrs. Van Orner was a wonderful and generous woman. Many people will miss her very much.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll be one of them.” Amy’s eyes shone with merriment . . . or deviltry. Sarah wasn’t sure which.
“Me? Of course I will!”
“But now you don’t have to worry about her telling on you.”
Mrs. Spratt-Williams’s face flooded with color. “I don’t know what you mean!”
“Yes, you do. I heard you arguing with Mrs. Van Orner that day she died, but now she can’t cause trouble for anybody ever again.”
Mrs. Spratt-Williams gave Sarah a desperate glance that told her she had no idea what Amy was talking about.
Apparently oblivious to her guests’ distress, Amy chatted on. “Mrs. Brandt, what should I do to stop my milk? I’ll be so glad to not be leaking all over myself anymore.”
Sarah hated giving these instructions to a perfectly healthy woman with a perfectly healthy baby, especially when she knew the baby wouldn’t do nearly as well on the bottle, but she very quickly gave Amy the instructions.
When she was finished, Amy turned to Miss Yingling. “I hope you were paying attention, Tamar. I’ll never remember all that.”
Sarah knew a moment of pity for Tamar Yingling. If Gregory Van Orner really did intend to keep this girl as his mistress under his own roof, her position here would be impossible, even if Van Orner would agree to let his dead wife’s secretary remain.
“Tamar is taking me shopping on Monday, after the nurse gets here,” Amy said. “Gregory wants me to have some new clothes. He said he’s tired of looking at this old rag.” She giggled.
“We’re going to Macy’s Department Store,” Miss Yingling said, in case they were imagining she would take a harlot to a dressmaker.
“I’m sure you’ll find some very nice things there,” Sarah said.
“Just to tide me over,” Amy clarified. “I’m sure Gregory wants me to have the very best. That’s what he always used to say.” She turned to Miss Yingling. “Don’t let me forget I’ll need a black dress for the funeral, too.”
The three other women stared at her for a long moment in mute horror, and then someone tapped on the door.
The maid stuck her head in. “I’m sorry, Miss Yingling, but the baby’s crying something awful.”
“Why are you telling Miss Yingling?” Amy demanded, jumping to her feet. “He’s my baby!”
The maid looked stricken. “Yes, miss.”
“Thank you, Mary,” Miss Yingling said with a long-suffering sigh.
“I’m sorry I must leave my guests, but duty calls,” Amy said. “Thank you so much for your visit. Please, come back to see me anytime.”
When she was gone, Miss Yingling sighed again. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Sarah said. “She’s young and . . .”
“And silly,” Mrs. Spratt-Williams supplied. “No one takes her seriously.”
“I can’t believe she’s behaving like this. I assure you, no one has given her any reason to think she’s the mistress of this house.”
“Of course not,” Sarah said, but she wondered if that might happen. Was Mr. Van Orner as desperate for a child as his wife had been? Would he accept Amy to claim her boy somehow? And had Amy gotten rid of Mrs. Van Orner to make all of this possible?
“Mrs. Spratt-Williams, I’m so sorry for what Amy said to you about arguing with Mrs. Van Orner. I’m sure she was making it all up, all that about overhearing secrets. She’s always looking for ways to make other people feel bad.”
“Don’t think anything of it. The only secret I have is my age, and I assure you, Amy doesn’t know it.”
The three women smiled, although Miss Yingling’s was strained.
Mrs. Spratt-Williams asked about the funeral arrangements, and Miss Yingling told them the service had been delayed because the coroner still had Mrs. Van Orner’s body. They had scheduled it for Tuesday.
After they’d run out of things to talk about, Sarah and Mrs. Spratt-Williams took their leave.
Out on the street, Sarah and her companion strolled back toward Fifth Avenue, where they could find a cab. Sarah would be heading the opposite direction this time, anxious to get home to her family and some normalcy.
“Thank you for coming with me, Mrs. Brandt.”
“I’m glad you suggested it. What an unusual situation.”
“Exactly what I was thinking.”
“What do you suppose Mr. Van Orner is going to do?”
“I have no idea, but he can’t imagine he can marry that creature, even if he thinks the child is his. He’d be shunned by everyone he knows.”
“I doubt his friends would look too kindly on his keeping a mistress in the home he’d shared with his wife either,” Sarah said.
“I’m sure someone will talk sense to him once people begin to realize the situation. He may just be in shock right now, after all that’s happened.”
Sarah doubted this, but she wasn’t going to argue the point. “I hate to ask this, but have you given any more thought to Rahab’s Daughters?”
“I have indeed. We can’t allow Vivian’s work to die with her. She would have hated that. I will be honored to step into her place as leader of the organization. I intend to approach everyone who has been involved with the charity and ask them to continue their support. We’ll need funds, first of all. Vivian provided the majority of that, so the need will be much greater than before. I should also go see Miss Biafore and assure her they will not be forgotten.”
“I know she would appreciate that. She was very worried when I saw her.”
“I’ll go right after church tomorrow. Mrs. Brandt, I hope you will continue your association with Rahab’s Daughters.”
“I have limited resources, I’m afraid, but I’ll be glad to contribute my widow’s mite.”
“And can we count on you to help us with rescues in the future?”
“I’m afraid the nature of my work makes me unreliable, but anytime I’m able to help, I certainly will.”
“You’re very kind.” Mrs. Spratt-Williams looked oddly relieved, as if a burden had been lifted since they’d left her house earlier today. They’d reached Fifth Avenue. She hailed a cab rumbling by and took her leave. Sarah wished her well.
SARAH LAY AWAKE PART OF SATURDAY NIGHT, GOING OVER what she knew about Amy Cunningham. She needed to share this new information with Malloy as soon as possible. She was sure he would chasten her for choosing someone as the killer simply because she didn’t like her. In the past, she’d also been guilty of refusing to see the evidence against a killer whom she did like. He would probably tell her that’s why they didn’t allow women to be detectives. Still, the evidence against Amy was compelling, and Malloy would need to know it.
Sarah, Maeve, and Catherine enjoyed the rare opportunity to attend church together, then came home to the meal Maeve prepared. Sarah was trying to think of something they could do together that afternoon when the front doorbell rang.
Maeve and Catherine moaned, thinking it was a client summoning Sarah to a delivery, but they were all delighted to discover Frank Malloy and his son, Brian, on their doorstep. At four years of age, Brian was a little younger than Catherine, although no one was exactly sure how old Catherine was. Brian was a handsome lad with red hair and bright blue eyes. He had been born deaf, and was attending a special school, where he was learning to speak by making signs with his hands.