“Don’t worry,” Van Orner said. “No one blames you for this.”
“What did you mean?” she asked.
“About what?”
“About Mrs. Walker being the one to poison Mrs. Van Orner?”
Van Orner’s voice was gentle when he spoke to her, making Frank wonder exactly what their relationship was. “Mr. Malloy was just explaining to me who had an opportunity to poison Vivian, and while I’d be happy to find out Mrs. Walker was the guilty party, she couldn’t have been.”
“Yes, she could,” Miss Yingling said.
Van Orner shook his head firmly. “No, she couldn’t. She would have had to be near enough to Vivian that day to put the poison in her flask, but—”
“She was!”
Both men stared at her in surprise. Frank found his tongue first. “What are you talking about?”
“She was here. Mrs. Walker came here to the house that morning, the day Mrs. Van Orner died.”
“The Devil you say!” Van Orner cried. “The nerve of that woman, coming to my home! Surely, no one let her in, though.”
“I don’t know exactly what she said, but the maid put her in the receiving room and went looking for Mrs. Van Orner. We were getting ready to leave for the day. Mrs. Van Orner went down. She wouldn’t have her brought up to the parlor, so she went down to the receiving room, and they talked there.”
“Did Mrs. Van Orner have her purse with her?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember, but she must have because we were just getting our things to go out.”
“Would Mrs. Walker have had an opportunity to be alone with Mrs. Van Orner’s purse?”
Miss Yingling looked up at him in despair. “I don’t know. I just don’t know!”
“She must have. That’s it,” Van Orner said. “The Walker woman was angry at Vivian for breaking into her house and kidnapping Amy, so she poisoned Vivian and now she’s taken Amy back.”
Frank turned to Miss Yingling. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
Guilt flushed her cheeks, but she said, “I’d forgotten all about it. I was so upset after Mrs. Van Orner died . . .”
Frank knew she was lying, but he didn’t have time to figure out why just now. “Do you want to come with me?” he asked Van Orner.
“No, I’ll leave this to you.”
Of course he would. He didn’t want his name mentioned if there was trouble and the press got hold of it. “Which house on Sisters’ Row is it?”
Armed with directions, Frank refused the offer of Van Orner’s carriage. He would make better time on foot and the elevated train.
THE TENDERLOIN WAS QUIET AT THIS HOUR ON A MONDAY morning. The seven houses of Sisters’ Row sat as if sleeping, their shaded windows like shuttered eyes. Frank counted carefully to make sure he was at the right door and then hammered with authority.
After a few minutes, a voice called out, “We’re closed!”
“Not to me,” Frank called back. “I’m the police.”
“We paid our protection. Go away!”
“Open up or I’ll get a squad to break down the door!”
Frank could almost feel the frustration of the person on the other side of the door as she turned the locks, ready to give Frank an earful. As soon as the latch released, however, Frank threw his weight against the door, sending the other person staggering backward as it lurched open.
“Mrs. Walker’ll have your job!” the woman screamed, her dark face fierce with fury.
“Just tell her Detective Sergeant Frank Malloy is here because Gregory Van Orner sent him.”
Her eyes widened with either fear or amazement. He hadn’t figured out which before she turned and ran up the stairs. Frank decided he wouldn’t find out anything standing where he was, so he followed her at a more sedate pace.
By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Mrs. Walker was hurrying down the hallway to meet him. “Where’s Amy?” he demanded.
“Hush,” she cried in a hoarse whisper. “You’ll wake the other girls.”
Frank wasn’t particularly concerned about that. “Just tell me where Amy is and I’ll take her back to Van Orner and we’ll pretend this never happened.”
“Are you crazy? Van Orner is the one who ordered me to bring her back here.”
Frank needed a minute to absorb this ridiculous statement, and before he could formulate a reply, a male voice called from downstairs.
“Mrs. Walker? Are you there?”
Frank had left the front door standing open and someone had wandered in.
Mrs. Walker made an exasperated sound, pushed past him, and hurried down the stairs. Before he could decide whether to follow her or stay where he was, she was coming up again. A small man with white hair carrying a doctor’s black bag was right behind her.
“Do you have any idea what she took?” he was asking her.
“She didn’t take anything. She was perfectly fine and then she just fainted and we can’t wake her up.”
Frank stepped out of the way to let them pass. Mrs. Walker gave him a dirty look. “Don’t try to scare me, copper.”
Frank had thought for sure that mention of Van Orner would scare her, and he was confused and a little alarmed. Why had Mrs. Walker summoned a doctor?
He waited until Mrs. Walker and the doctor disappeared into one of the bedrooms, then he followed. He wasn’t exactly sneaking, just not making more noise than was absolutely necessary. He stopped outside the door, which they’d left ajar.
“What did you use on her, Rowena?” the doctor asked.
“Nothing, I told you.”
“Don’t lie to me. I can smell the chloroform.”
“Just a little, to keep her calm while we brought her here. She came around after we got her in the house, and then she started screaming bloody murder like they sometimes do.”
“So you gave her some more?”
“I know better than that. I talked to her until she calmed down. She was mad as a scalded cat and then she said she didn’t feel right and laid down on the bed. That’s when I called you.”
“You gave her too much.”
“No, I didn’t. I know my business, Arthur. I’ve never lost a girl yet.”
“You’ve lost one now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She’s dead.”
“She can’t be dead!”
Frank stepped into the room. A pretty young woman lay on the bed, her face white, her body still. “Is that Amy Cunningham?”
Mrs. Walker looked up. “Are you still here? I thought I told you to get out.”
“Is that Amy?” he asked again.
“What if it is?”
“If it is, then Mr. Van Orner is going to be very upset.”
“I don’t see why. He wanted rid of her and now he’s rid of her.”
“If he wanted rid of her, why did he send me to get her back?”
The doctor was putting things back into his medical bag. “Next time, be more careful, Rowena.”
“I told you, I was careful!”
“What did she die of?” Frank asked the doctor.
“I’d say too much chloroform.”
“It wasn’t that!” Mrs. Walker cried. “I told you, she came around after we gave it to her. She was talking sense and running around the house and everything.”
“She was, really,” the maid offered. She’d been standing off to the side, wringing her hands. “She was perfectly fine, then something took her real sudden.”
“What do you say, Doc?” Frank asked.
“I don’t hold with autopsies, but that’s the only way to tell for sure.”
“Your opinion,” Frank prodded.
“If it was chloroform, she wouldn’t have woken up. If she woke up, and they didn’t give her any more—”
“We didn’t!” Mrs. Walker insisted.
“Then it could’ve been something else, although she’s young to up and die for no reason.”