Away in a Manger (19 page)

He nodded. “Much as I'd enjoy choosing gifts for my family, I have to admit that I'm not up to it.”

“All right. Then maybe I'll go out today and buy Liam and Bridie's gifts,” I said. “If you think we can still afford them, that is?” I turned to him with a worried frown. “The police department will pay your hospital bills, won't they? And not cut your pay when you are off work?”

“I hope so,” he said. “They certainly have done so in the past. But who knows now? If rumors are circulating that the whole sorry business was my fault, then who knows if I'll even have a job.”

“Daniel, this is ridiculous,” I exploded. “I've a good mind to go down there and give those men a talking-to they won't forget.”

He had to laugh at that. “I'd love to see that, Molly, but it wouldn't do any good.” He took my hand. “But in answer to your former question, yes, by all means buy the children their gifts. I've that legacy put by from my father, and I want to make sure their Christmas is a happy one.”

So I set off, heading straight for the big FAO Schwarz toy store. This close to the holidays it was a madhouse, with harried-looking attendants scurrying around, being grabbed by impatient customers. Luckily I knew what I wanted. I found the dog on wheels and then selected a small china doll for Bridie. It was really beautiful, with realistic glass eyes and a lacy party dress.
Daniel's mother can teach her to make more clothes,
I thought as I paid and carried my purchases out triumphantly. But that left the more difficult assignment of the day: What to get for Daniel's mother, for Sid and Gus, and for Daniel himself?

I realized I had no hands free to carry anything else and didn't want the doll to get broken, so I took the El back home and managed to sneak the large brown paper parcels up to my bedroom and hide them on top of my wardrobe. Then I went out again, closer to home this time. I decided I couldn't go wrong with books for Sid and Gus, so I went into one of the bookshops around the university and found the perfect thing: a book of recipes from the British Raj.
Delights of India, Ceylon, and Burma.
That should provide them with many happy hours of cooking.

Then I found an illustrated guide to Ireland. I knew that Daniel's mother had been born here right after her parents came from Ireland in the potato famine, but she had never visited the old country. This book had lovely illustrations as well as quaint anecdotes, so I left the store well pleased. Now all that remained was something for Daniel himself. Men are so hard and at the moment I knew it had to be something that would lift his spirits. Spirits—that was a good idea. Daniel did appreciate a good whiskey but rarely treated himself. And I thought of something else. Daniel enjoyed an occasional pipe when he was at repose in his armchair. He had owned a handsome carved wooden tobacco jar before our house burned down. I'd see if I could find a replacement for it. I bought a bottle of whiskey at the liquor store and put off the quest for a tobacco jar for another day.

After lunch Daniel and Liam both went down for their naps, and Daniel's mother helped Bridie finish off the scarf she was knitting for Daniel. I went across the street and found Sid and Gus busy decorating with Tig and Emmy. They too had put up a tree, with exotic ornaments—carved wood tigers from India, glass mirrors, baubles of all sorts. And the table in the center of the parlor had been draped with a white cloth and had a many-branched candlestick on it.

“First night of Hanukkah tonight,” Sid said. “Our little guests shall experience a mixture of cultures. This is the menorah I've had since I was a child. I've been over to Hester Street and found a dreidel, and I have my gelt and nuts ready.”

“I've never heard of that,” I said.

Sid smiled. “Well, I haven't exactly celebrated my Jewish heritage until now, have I? But I used to love it as a child. You spin the top and whichever side it lands on, that is what you win. Gelt is chocolate-covered money. That's the best.”

“Bring Bridie and Liam over. They should play it too,” Gus said. “And watch Emmy light the first candle. Liam is actually the youngest child, but I wouldn't trust him with a taper yet.”

“Absolutely not.” I laughed. “He made a beeline for the Christmas tree. We'll have to keep the parlor door shut.”

That evening at sundown I took the children over and we all enjoyed the first night of Hanukkah. My mother-in-law was invited, but politely declined. “I see no reason to celebrate a Jewish holiday,” she said with strong emphasis on the word “Jewish.” I realized that my living in this part of the city had made me far more broad-minded and tolerant than most people, and that for people like my mother-in-law this time of peace and goodwill did not extend to those of a different faith.

We had just sat down to dinner when there was a knock at the door.

“Who now?” Daniel demanded irritably.

I opened the door to find Constable Byrne standing there. “Sorry to disturb you so late, but I was on duty and couldn't get away earlier, Mrs. Sullivan,” he said. “But I think I've found the lady you were looking for.”

“You have?” I ushered him into the parlor. He commented on the Christmas tree and how festive the room looked while I almost danced with impatience. We had to wait while Daniel made his way slowly down the hall to us, then he handed Daniel a large manila envelope. “This is the description of a young woman pulled from the East River on March 28 this year. It matches the one you gave me completely. And there's even a photograph.”

“They take photographs in the morgue these days?” I asked.

“In the case of a suspicious death they do. These days cameras are everywhere, aren't they? And what a boon. It makes our job so much easier.”

“Let me see.” Daniel removed a sheet of paper from the envelope. The photograph was not of the best quality, probably taken without a flash, but I could see the resemblance to Emmy immediately—the upturned slant of the eyes and the heart-shaped face. Even in death she looked so peaceful, as if she was asleep, her long blonde hair draped over her shoulders. My immediate reaction was Ophelia, or the Lady of Shalott. There was a sort of timeless, ethereal beauty about her. A lump came into my throat. “Then she did take her own life after all,” I said.

“Probably not,” Constable Byrne said. “As it turned out, she didn't drown. There was no water in her lungs. She was dead when she was thrown in, so it seems.”

“Then why wasn't her death followed up sooner?” I demanded, fighting back the anger that welled up in me.

“Nothing to go on. No identification on her. No laundry marks. Nothing on her clothing. And nobody reported her missing. You can throw someone into the East River wherever you like and eventually the current will bring them down to the docks.”

“So her death need not have happened in the city,” I said.

“Could have happened anywhere,” Daniel agreed. “But you think this is the right woman, do you, Molly?”

“Without a doubt. The likeness to her daughter is striking. And the timing is right. The end of March. That's when she would have disappeared. So she went to find her family and on the way something happened to her.”

“And in all likelihood we'll never know what,” Constable Byrne said.

I studied the paper. “It doesn't mention any obvious bruising or trauma to her body then?”

The constable clearly winced at a lady calmly discussing such topics.

“I only know what's on this record, Mrs. Sullivan,” he said.

I read it through again, carefully, word by word. “It does list the clothing she was wearing,” I said. “Light blue cambric dress. Black boots, underclothes…” I looked up. “That seems too light to be wearing in March, doesn't it? Where were her outer garments? She'd not have gone out without a coat of some sort.”

“I suppose the answer to that is that she died while indoors and was dumped in the river later,” Daniel said.

“And nobody reported seeing a body dumped into the river?” I demanded, angry now that Margaret should have come all this way, hopeful for a reunion with her family, only to come to such an ignominious end.

Daniel looked at me with understanding. “There are many places where a body could be dumped without the risk of anyone witnessing. North of here in the marshes—even down on some of the docks.”

“From the condition of her face in the photograph she hadn't been in the water long,” I said, studying the photograph again. “If she'd been in there for days the fish would have found her.”

The young constable turned visibly green.

“I must apologize for my wife, Constable,” Daniel said with a chuckle. “You must realize she was once a detective herself. She has handled some pretty tough cases and now lacks all feminine sensibility to such matters.”

“Yes, sir.” Constable Byrne nodded. “Will that be all now, sir? Because I need to get home.”

“Of course you do. And we can't thank you enough for your kindness,” I replied. “At least we know that Margaret Jones came to a tragic end. I just wish it might have been investigated more at the time … but with the absence of any identification, I can understand how hard that might be.”

I escorted him to the front door. When I returned Daniel was staring at the sheet of paper. “Whoever killed her made sure she wouldn't be identified in a hurry,” he said. “Nobody goes out with no identification on them.”

“I suppose it could have been in her purse, stolen by robbers who hit her over the head and dumped her in the river,” I said. “Something as simple as that.”

“It often is,” Daniel agreed. “Life is cheap in this city. I've seen people murdered for their boots on a cold day.”

I shuddered. In spite of my supposed callousness I still did retain enough feminine sensibilities.

“Do you plan to show this to her children?” Daniel asked.

I stared at the photograph. “I don't think so,” I said. “What good would it do? It can't bring their mother back to life. When I've successfully reunited them with their family, then is the time to tell them that their mother is dead. Not before. They've been through enough recently.”

Daniel nodded. “You really think that you can reunite them with their family then?”

I sighed. “From all I've been told her father was a harsh and unforgiving sort of person, but even a heart like his should be melted if he once sees his grandchildren. They are so sweet and gentle, Daniel. Who could possibly turn them away?” I waved the photograph at him. “I'll take this to Eustace Everett tomorrow. I was going to see him anyway, to find out what his uncle's reaction was when he was shown Margaret's locket. Now I have more ammunition, and a verification that the photograph really was of her.”

“And we only commented a few days ago that for once we'd be able to enjoy a quiet and peaceful Christmas,” Daniel said with a tired smile on his face.

I took his hand and held it in my own. “We will, my darling, I promise you,” I said.

 

Twenty-one

Friday, December 22

The next morning I paid an early call on Sid and Gus to tell them what we had learned. The children were sitting at the kitchen table, eating large omelets. They had already lost that fragile and hollow look. Both looked up and beamed when they saw me.

“Do you have any news about Mummy yet?” Tig asked.

“Not yet,” I lied. “But I may have news for you really soon.”

Then I remembered the fact sheet that Constable Byrne had brought us. “Tell me, Tig. Do you remember what your mother was wearing when she left you?”

“I remember,” Emmy piped up. “Her pretty blue dress. It was my favorite.”

I smiled. “Blue is my favorite color too,” I said. “But eat up your eggs before they get cold. I need to have a word with Miss Goldfarb.”

Sid followed me out of the kitchen and into the front parlor. “What is it?” she asked. “You've found out something?”

I nodded, glancing back at the door to make sure nobody could overhear us. “It would appear that their mother's body was pulled from the East River last spring. Anyway the description matches and she was wearing a blue dress. But there was no identification of any kind on her, and the horrible thing is that she didn't drown. She was dead when she was thrown into the water.”

“How awful,” Sid said. “And the police never found out who did it?”

I shook my head. “Daniel says that given the strength of the current she could have been thrown in anywhere. Nobody of her description was reported missing. So they had nothing to go on.”

“Is it possible that the landlady and her friend killed her the way they threatened to do the children?”

“I've been wondering that too. But for what reason, I wonder?”

Sid shrugged. “To rob her of her jewelry, maybe?”

“I don't think she had many worldly goods, Sid. She had eloped with the singing teacher, who was later reduced to working on the docks. I think she only came back here because she was desperate. And anyway,” I added, “this body was pulled from the East River. Why would they have taken her across the island when they could have thrown her into the Hudson?”

Sid nodded in agreement at this. “Poor children.” She also glanced back toward the door. “Let's just pray that their grandfather relents and takes them in.”

“And if he doesn't? What then?” I asked.

“They are so sweet, Molly. No trouble at all. And Gus has fallen completely in love with them. She said last night it was like a gift from heaven, when she thought she would never have a child of her own.”

“It would certainly curtail your lifestyle,” I said.

“We'll face that obstacle when we come to it. There are nannies and governesses, you know. And we are not without funds.”

All the same, I worried a little as I got ready to visit Eustace Everett on Wall Street. Sid and Gus were so kind and generous, but they were also impulsive and given to whims. Could they really leave the children with a nursemaid if they decided to go back to Europe or to trek across the Sahara? Still, this might never be a problem after today. Mr. Montague would have seen the locket and hopefully agreed to meet his grandchildren.