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“Especially if how low you were was working as a prostitute,” Mrs. Ellsworth added.

“So you think Miss Yingling might have wanted Mrs. Van Orner dead?” Sarah asked them both.

“I can’t judge, not knowing her myself,” Mrs. Ellsworth replied. “But I wouldn’t rule her out just because Mrs. Van Orner has raised her up.”

“I see what you mean. Do you have an argument for why Mrs. Spratt-Williams might have killed her?”

“Old friends know our secrets,” Mrs. Ellsworth said.

“And we know theirs,” Maeve added.

Sarah considered this. “My mother said she thought she remembered some old scandal involving Mrs. Spratt-Williams’s late husband, but if she knew about it, so would everyone else. No secrets there.”

“Maybe she has another secret,” Maeve said. “Maybe she was stealing money from the rescue house.”

“She was giving money to the rescue house. Besides, I don’t think she would have had an opportunity. She only helped with the rescues.” Sarah suddenly remembered Amy’s accusations. “When I was at the Van Orner house on Saturday with Mrs. Spratt-Williams, Amy was hinting that she knew a secret about Mrs. Spratt-Williams, but I don’t think the poor woman even knew what she was talking about.”

“Maybe Mrs. Spratt-Williams was jealous of Mrs. Van Orner,” Maeve offered.

Sarah was happy to consider this possibility. “Why?”

Maeve thought for a moment. “Mrs. Van Orner had a rich husband, and she doesn’t.”

“Does she have a husband at all?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked.

“She’s a widow, and there’s my mother’s memory of a scandal, but we don’t know that for certain. On the other hand, Mrs. Van Orner’s rich husband had a mistress half his age who gave birth to a child when Mrs. Van Orner couldn’t. Does that make you jealous of her?”

Maeve and Mrs. Ellsworth had to agree that it didn’t.

“Mrs. Van Orner must’ve had lots of enemies,” Maeve decided after a few minutes of thought. “What about all the madams she rescued prostitutes from?”

“None of those people were at the rescue house the day she died. They don’t even know where it is.”

“Could one of them have allowed one of their girls to be rescued so that person would have the opportunity to take revenge on Mrs. Van Orner?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked.

“Oh, Mrs. Ellsworth, that’s a wonderful plan!” Maeve exclaimed. “There were other rescued women in the house, weren’t there?”

“Yes, but both of them were scared witless. Neither of them would have the courage to poison someone like Mrs. Van Orner. The only rescued woman who would is—”

“Amy,” Maeve supplied.

“So we’re back to her.” Mrs. Ellsworth sighed.

ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME YOU THINK AMY POISONED my wife?” Van Orner asked, none too pleased by the thought.

“The person who poisoned your wife was in the same house with her sometime shortly before she died. You don’t think it was any of your servants, and neither do I. We know who was at the rescue house. You’ve already told me Miss Yingling and Mrs. Spratt-Williams wouldn’t have done it. Only one person in that house really had anything to gain from your wife’s death.”

“Amy had nothing to gain!”

“Mr. Van Orner, I know Amy is living here with you now. I know she was your mistress before she went to Mrs. Walker’s brothel. She has said she knew about Mrs. Van Orner’s flask because you told her about it, and I know she named her baby boy after you.”

Color flooded Van Orner’s face. “That doesn’t mean she killed Vivian.”

“I know it doesn’t, but it doesn’t look good for her either. What I need to know from you, Mr. Van Orner, is what you want me to do if she did kill Mrs. Van Orner.”

Van Orner’s breath caught in his throat, and he let it out in a long sigh. “You have to understand about Amy. She’s had a difficult time of it.”

Frank made no comment. He just waited.

“Her father was in business, but he’d invested his savings in a project that went bankrupt, and he blew his brains out because he couldn’t face the shame of it. Her mother tried renting rooms in their house, but then she got consumption. She was going to die and leave Amy alone and penniless, so when one of her husband’s friends offered to take the girl as his mistress, what could she say?”

Frank could think of a number of things, but he just shrugged, not wanting to interrupt the flow of the story.

“He paid Mrs. Cunningham’s medical bills and buried her when she died. Then he set Amy up in her own establishment. She was fourteen.”

Frank thought of the girls even younger than that whom he’d seen sleeping in alleys and servicing bums for a few pennies to keep themselves alive. He had only limited sympathy for Amy.

“She blossomed into a lovely young woman, and when I saw her one evening at the theater . . . Let’s just say her protector was more anxious for my goodwill than he was for Amy’s company. He was handsomely compensated, and I got Amy.”

“How did she end up at Mrs. Walker’s?”

Van Orner didn’t even flinch. “Amy was amusing at first. I enjoyed satisfying her whims, but she was never satisfied. Her parents had spoiled her, you see, and her first protector had done nothing to remedy that. By the time she came to me, she had learned that whining and pouting would get her what she wanted. After a while, I found it more annoying than otherwise.”

“She named her baby after you.”

Van Orner shifted uneasily in his chair. “I didn’t know about the child. She claims she didn’t either. I tend to believe her, because if she’d told me, I would never have taken her to Mrs. Walker.”

“You believe it’s yours, then?”

“Six months ago, she was still under my protection. I have every reason to believe the child is mine. My wife was barren, Mr. Malloy. Even if I were to remarry, I have no guarantee I’ll ever have another child.”

“I wonder why Mrs. Walker didn’t let you know about the baby.”

“I told her I didn’t want to hear anything else about Amy. I assume she took me at my word. She may even have thought I’d sent Amy to her because I didn’t want the child.”

“Could Amy have thought you’d marry her if your wife was gone?”

“I certainly never said anything to make her believe that, but you know how women are, Mr. Malloy. One never knows what goes on in the female mind.”

Frank could attest to that, at least. “You still haven’t told me what you want me to do if I find out Amy poisoned your wife.”

The sounds of raised voices, women’s voices, and running feet distracted them both. Van Orner rose, his face twisted with fury at the disturbance and ready to call out a reprimand when the parlor door flew open and Miss Yingling burst in.

“Greg, they’ve kidnapped Amy!”

Then she saw Frank, but instead of being chagrined, she appealed to him. “Mr. Malloy, you have to do something. Mrs. Walker has kidnapped Amy!”

AFTER LUNCH, SARAH TOOK A LONG LOOK AT THE CAKE sitting on her kitchen table and made a decision. “I’m going to take this cake to the women at the rescue house.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Maeve said. “Can I go with you?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go there, Maeve.”

“Are you afraid I’ll be corrupted by the prostitutes?”

“Of course not, but I don’t want you to be seen there. Someone might get the wrong idea.”

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll get the wrong idea seeing you there?”

“Not at all. I’m much too old to be a rescued prostitute.”