“What did she say?”
“I didn’t give her a chance. I was rushing to the ferry to see these children and their mother, who is also their manager and very ambitious. I just waved and kept going. She called out something about offering to give me a lift. I think she had a car waiting. I just kept moving and hopped the ferry. Isaac, I’m sure I’m being silly. I mean, Lowell Falconer knows her. He didn’t seem to think she was strange. On the other hand, I doubt anyone in a skirt would be strange to Lowell.”
“Who told you she had shown up when you were in San Francisco?”
“Mademoiselle Duvall.”
“What did she think of Katherine?”
“I think she sensed what I sensed, though not as strongly. Strange people often show up at the studio. The movies tug at them. They imagine all sorts of fantastical futures for themselves. But Katherine Dee is different. She’s obviously well-off and well-bred.”
“She’s an orphan.”
“Oh, my Lord! I didn’t realize. Maybe she does need the work.”
“Her father left her a fortune.”
“How do you know?”
“We’ve investigated everyone in the Hull 44 set.”
“So I’m probably imagining things.”
“Better safe than sorry. I’ll have Research dig deeper.”
“Come meet the children… Fred, say hello to my fiancé, Mr. Bell.”
“Hello, Mr. Bell,” Fred mumbled, staring at his shoes. He was a shy little guy, seven or eight.
“Hello, Fred. When I came in, I heard you dancing so fast I thought it was a machine gun.”
“Did you?” He looked up and studied Bell with a warm smile.
“How’s Miss Morgan treating you?”
“Oh, she’s very nice.”
“I agree.”
“And this is Adele,” said Marion. The girl was buoyant, several years older, and did not need any coaxing. “Are you really Miss Morgan’s fiancé?”
“I’m the lucky man.”
“I’ll say you are!”
“I’ll say you’re very wise. What’s the movie about?”
Adele looked surprised when little Fred answered for her. “Child dancers are captured by Indians.”
“What’s it called?”
“The Lesson. The kids teach the Indians a new dance and they let them go.”
“Sounds uplifting. I look forward to seeing it. Pleased to meet you, Fred.” He shook his little hand again. “Pleased to meet you, Adele.” He shook hers.
Marion said, “I’ll see you in the morning, children,” and called to their mother, “Eight o’clock call, Mrs. Astaire.”
They stood alone at the back of the house.
Bell said, “When you get back to Fort Lee tomorrow morning, you will see someone you know dressed like an Indian. Give him a part that will keep him near you at all times.”
“Archie Abbott?”
“He’s the only man I would trust with your life, other than Joe Van Dorn. But no one would ever believe that Mr. Van Dorn dressed up like an Indian was looking for an acting job in your movie. Whereas Archie would have been an actor if his mother had not forbidden it. Until we can be sure that Katherine Dee means no harm, Archie will watch over you at work during the day. At night, I want you to stay at the Knickerbocker.”
“An unmarried lady alone in a respectable hotel? What will the house detective say?”
“If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll say, ‘Good night, Mr. Bell. Sleep tight.’”
ISAAC BELL WENT BACK into the streets. He felt he was getting close, so close that he carried sandwiches in his coat pockets assuming that a man living as on the edge as Billy Collins would be glad of a meal. There had been two more sightings. Both were on Ninth Avenue near where it ended abruptly at 33rd Street by the huge hole in the ground they were excavating for the Pennsylvania Terminal rail yard.
He went to the construction site, shabbily dressed, and watched for the tall, thin silhouette he had seen in the coal pocket. An entire district of the city-six acres of houses, apartments, shops, and churches-had vanished. Ninth Avenue crossed the gigantic hole on stiltlike temporary shoring girders that held up two streetcar lines, the roadbed, and a trestle for pedestrians. Propped high above it, Ninth Avenue Elevated locals and expresses still ran, rumbling across the gaping hole like giant airplanes made of iron and steel.
A steam whistle blew day’s end. A thousand workmen climbed out of the pit and hurried home into the city. When they had gone, Bell climbed in, down ladders and temporary wooden stairs, past the severed ends of gas mains, cast-iron water mains, electrical conduits, and brick sewers. Twenty-four feet down, he encountered a steel viaduct partially constructed-underpinning, he had been told, for Ninth Avenue and the buildings around it. He descended through it into darkness lighted by pinpricks of electric work lamps.
Sixty feet below the surface, he found the floor of the pit. It was a field of stone rubble, dynamited granite, crisscrossed by narrow-gauge rails for the cars that hauled debris out and material in and forested with wide columns that carried the viaduct. Through its frame he could see blue electrical sparks arcing as the El trains thundered across the sky.
Bell explored for an hour, keeping an eye peeled for night watchmen. He tripped repeatedly on the uneven ground. The third time he fell, he smelled something sweet and discovered a gnawed apple core. Poking around, he found a man’s den-a crumpled blanket, more apple cores, and chicken bones. He settled down to wait, sitting on the ground, still as ice, moving only when he had to stretch his limbs to stay agile and then only when the Els clattering overhead masked his movements.
He was not alone. Rats scuttled, a dog barked, and from hundreds of feet away in the dark he heard an argument between two hobos, which ended with a heavy thump and a groan drowned out by a passing El. It got quieter as the night wore on and the El trains ran less frequently. Someone lit a bonfire on the edge of the hole at 33rd Street, which sent flickers and shadows dancing on pillars, girders, and rough-hewn stone walls.
A voice whispered in Bell’s ear.
“It’s like church in here.”
47
ISAAC BELL MOVED ONLY HIS EYES.
By the flickering firelight, he saw a long, bony face with a vacant smile. The man was dressed in rags. His hands were empty, his eyes were puffy as if he had just woken, and Bell surmised that he had been nearby all along sleeping soundlessly. Now he was staring with wondering eyes up at the steel skeleton of the viaduct, and Bell saw what he meant by church. The interlocking girders, the dark sky speckled with stars, and the bonfire light conspired to form the image of a medieval cathedral lit by candles.