Murder on Sisters' Row (21 page)

Mrs. Ellsworth and Maeve leaned forward eagerly.

“I mean when I asked if Mr. Van Orner would let me investigate his wife’s murder, she said she would ask him, but it would take a long time. I didn’t know what she meant at first. I thought she needed time to convince him, but when she came back an hour later, I realized that she needed the time to get herself fixed up. I didn’t even recognize her. She’d changed completely.”

“Changed how?” Maeve asked.

“She was beautiful, with her hair all curled and a nice dress on, one that showed off her figure instead of hanging on her. I don’t know what she said to convince Van Orner, but she made sure she looked pretty to do it.”

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “That gives her a good reason to kill Mrs. Van Orner.”

Sarah frowned, not following at all. “What does?”

“Why, she must be in love with Mr. Van Orner and wanted to get his wife out of the way so he could have him for herself.”

Sarah frowned. “Mrs. Van Orner had saved her and given her a job and kept her in her own house. She had a lot of reasons to be grateful to Mrs. Van Orner. She also couldn’t possibly think Mr. Van Orner would ever want to marry her, no matter how much he might like prostitutes.”

“And we’re forgetting all about Amy,” Maeve said.

“What about her?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked.

“You’re right, Maeve. Amy wasn’t grateful to Mrs. Van Orner at all, and she’d been hinting for weeks that Mr. Van Orner was the father of her baby,” Sarah said. “We might be sure Mr. Van Orner wouldn’t believe her and that he would certainly never marry her even if he did, but she might not have known any of that. As you said, Malloy, young girls get silly ideas.”

“She was at the rescue house yesterday, and she had the opportunity to put the poison in Mrs. Van Orner’s flask, too,” Maeve reminded them.

“Except for one thing,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “How could she know about Mrs. Van Orner’s drinking problem in the first place?”

 

 

M
ALLOY DIDN’T LIKE HER PLAN, BUT SARAH THOUGHT IT was brilliant. She didn’t even need to convince her mother, who was only too happy to assist. Mrs. Decker agreed instantly when Sarah showed up at her house the next morning to ask her.

“A condolence visit to Gregory Van Orner,” she repeated when Sarah suggested it. “I’m ashamed I hadn’t thought of it myself.”

Sarah filled her in on everything she knew while her mother got herself properly dressed for a visit.

“I’m not complaining, mind you,” her mother said while her maid pinned up her hair, “but why didn’t Mr. Malloy just go to the house himself?” They were in Mrs. Decker’s lavishly furnished bedroom.

“Because they might just refuse to see him, and even if they did let him in, Mr. Van Orner and Miss Yingling might get angry and refuse to answer his questions. I could go alone, but Mr. Van Orner doesn’t know me, and Miss Yingling doesn’t have any reason to confide in me, but you . . .” Sarah smiled sweetly at her mother’s reflection in the dressing table mirror.

“Gregory wouldn’t dare refuse to see me, and this Miss Yingling might be awed enough by my name to speak with you, too.”

“Mother, you amaze me.”

“Perhaps I should speak to Theodore about giving me a job on the police force . . . Oh, dear, I keep forgetting he’s not there anymore. He’s joined the Navy or something,” Mrs. Decker said, referring to their old family friend, Theodore Roosevelt, who had once been the police commissioner.

“He’s the Assistant Secretary of the Navy in Washington, D.C., now,” Sarah reminded her. “I’m sure if you want to work for the police, Mr. Malloy can tell you who to speak with, though,” she added with a grin.

“I’m sure he could. Perhaps we should see how this trip goes before I make any plans,” Mrs. Decker said, making her maid sigh in dismay.

Even though the Van Orners lived only a few blocks away from Mrs. Decker, they took the carriage. Mrs. Decker wanted to make an impression.

The maid who answered the door escorted Sarah and her mother straight upstairs to the front parlor, where they had to wait awhile for Mr. Van Orner. The maid brought tea and cake to occupy them. At last, Mr. Van Orner came in, looking a bit harried and still smoothing the lapels of his black mourning suit.

“Elizabeth, how good of you to come,” he said, going straight for Mrs. Decker and taking the hand she offered him. He had once been a handsome man who was now going soft in his middle years. His features seemed slightly blurred with the puffiness that comes from too much drink.

“I’m so sorry to hear about poor Vivian. I came at once to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“We’re all still in shock, I’m afraid. I’ve been trying to decide on funeral arrangements, but it’s so difficult. I don’t have any idea what she would have wanted.” He noticed Sarah. “Is this your daughter?”

“Yes, Mrs. Brandt. She helped Vivian in her work at Rahab’s Daughters.”

Sarah saw the emotion flicker across Mr. Van Orner’s face. She thought it was distaste, but he recovered quickly. “I’m sure Vivian appreciated your help very much.”

“I was grateful for the opportunity. She’ll be greatly missed.”

“Yes, well, I see the servants have brought you some refreshment. Can I refill your cups?” He took a seat on a chair opposite the sofa where they sat and proceeded to pour, filling a cup for himself in the process.

“Vivian’s death was so sudden,” Mrs. Decker said. “Had she been ill?”

“No, not that anyone knew. She . . . Well, I suppose you’ll hear sooner or later. The police believe she was helped along.”

“Helped along?” Mrs. Decker said with creditable innocence.

“You know, murdered.”

“Good heavens! Who would do such a thing?”

Van Orner glanced at Sarah. “Vivian had made a lot of enemies with her little hobby, people who wouldn’t think twice about murder.”

“How was she murdered?” Mrs. Decker asked, still looking suitably shocked.

“They believe she was poisoned somehow. At least that’s what Miss Yingling tells me. Miss Yingling was Vivian’s secretary.”

“How on earth could someone have poisoned her?”

“I have no idea. I’ve left everything up to the police.”

Sarah could see they’d get nothing from Mr. Van Orner. “I would like to express my condolences to Miss Yingling, if I may. I met her while I was working with Mrs. Van Orner, and I know she must be devastated.”

Mr. Van Orner seemed a bit surprised, but he shrugged. “I’m sure that would be fine.” He rang for the maid and sent her to fetch Miss Yingling.

Mrs. Decker made polite conversation with their host while they waited for Miss Yingling. When the door opened, Sarah managed not to gasp at the transformation in the young woman. After what Malloy had told her, she’d been prepared for a change, but the difference was still shocking.

Malloy hadn’t done justice to her when describing the change, but Sarah could see every detail. The drab, ill-fitting suit was gone. In its place she wore a fashionable flowered gown that fit snugly enough to accentuate all of her womanly curves, curves Sarah hadn’t even suspected she possessed. Her hair had been restyled into the modern, more flattering Gibson girl knot on the top of her head. Soft curls adorned her forehead and trailed down her cheeks and the back of her neck. The faintest touches of rouge brought out the color in her lips and cheeks. She was, Sarah acknowledged, a lovely young woman. Sarah had to consciously close her gaping mouth.

Miss Yingling seemed equally surprised. “Mrs. Brandt,” she said. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I heard the news about Mrs. Van Orner. I’m so very sorry.”

Miss Yingling just stood there.

Conscious of the uncomfortable silence, Mr. Van Orner said, “Mrs. Brandt said she knew you, Tamar.” He seemed unsure if he’d made a mistake by summoning Miss Yingling.

“Yes, of course she does,” Miss Yingling quickly confirmed. “Mrs. Brandt helped us with our last rescue.”

“The one with—”

“The one I told you about,” she said sharply, cutting him off. The glance she gave him could only be described as a warning.

Sarah had never seen a servant give such a look to her master, but Mr. Van Orner didn’t seem outraged or even surprised. He just nodded once and fell silent.

Miss Yingling turned her attention back to Sarah, suddenly and belatedly gracious. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Brandt. How did you hear about Mrs. Van Orner’s death?”

“From the police,” Sarah said.

“The
police
? Why were you talking with the police?”

“They wanted to know what I knew about Mrs. Van Orner’s activities.” That much was true, at least.

Miss Yingling frowned. “I wonder how they got your name.”

“I understand they’re questioning all the people who helped Mrs. Van Orner at Rahab’s Daughters.”

“That’s not necessary, I’m sure,” Van Orner said, finally finding a reason for outrage.

“They’re trying to find out who might have wished Mrs. Van Orner harm,” Sarah said. “Her friends would know the people she had offended.”

“That seems reasonable,” Miss Yingling said to Van Orner.

He seemed to accept her judgment.

Sarah soldiered on, wondering how to get some information out of one of them. Maybe if she could get Miss Yingling alone . . . “I stopped by the rescue house yesterday, as soon as I heard, to see if I could be of any assistance. I was particularly worried about Amy . . .” Miss Yingling stiffened slightly. Sarah pretended not to notice. “But she wasn’t there. It seems she’d packed up and left the house that morning.”

Miss Yingling didn’t seem surprised. She glanced at Mr. Van Orner before replying. “Did she? I wonder where she went.”

“No one seemed to know. She didn’t even tell anyone she was leaving.”

“That’s a shame, but some of the women simply refuse to be helped. We can’t make them change, as much as we may want to.”

Somewhere, a door slammed, not a sound one expected to hear in a home where the occupants were in mourning. A servant would probably find herself turned out of the house for the lapse.

“Miss Yingling, I know it’s not my place to say anything, but Miss Biafore is very concerned about what’s going to happen to the rescue house now that . . . Well, with Mrs. Van Orner gone . . .”

Miss Yingling glanced at Mr. Van Orner again, and this time he looked away, clearly not pleased by the subject.

“I’m afraid we haven’t really had time to give the matter any thought,” Miss Yingling said.

Sarah wanted to press the issue, but before she could say anything, they heard a disturbance out in the hall and then the parlor door burst open. Sarah could hardly believe her eyes.

Amy strode into the room, her cheeks red with fury, but she stopped dead at the sight of Sarah and Mrs. Decker. She wore a muslin housedress that barely contained her full breasts, and her golden hair was loose around her shoulders. “I . . . I thought . . .” she stammered in mortification.

“I’m sure no one cares what you thought,” Miss Yingling said, obviously furious and also embarrassed at being proved a liar. “Mr. Van Orner has visitors. You have no business here.”

Sarah jumped to her feet. “Amy, I’m so glad to see you. How is the baby?”

Amy looked around wildly, searching for some clue as to how she should react. Mr. Van Orner and Miss Yingling simply glared at her, but Mrs. Decker apparently sensed an opportunity to be of service to her daughter.

“Is this the young lady whose baby you delivered at the—” She caught herself and covered her near-disastrous error with a charming smile. “Mrs. Brandt has been very worried about you.”

“Yes, I have,” Sarah said. “I would love to see the baby. May I?”

Amy was still looking somewhat desperate and finding no friendly face except Sarah’s. “If you’d like, I . . . Of course you can see him.” She whirled around and made her escape. Sarah had to hurry to catch up with her.

As she followed Amy up the stairs, she saw the girl was barefoot. She was making herself quite at home here. Amy didn’t look back until they’d reached the top of the stairs and gone down the hallway to one of the doors. Amy pushed it open and entered, leaving Sarah to follow.

Sarah saw at once it was a bedroom, furnished in the impersonal style used for occasional guests. A large market basket sat at the foot of the unmade bed. Sarah recognized it as the one she’d carried the baby in from the Mission the day they’d rescued Amy. Amy stopped beside it, turning back to Sarah.

“Here he is.”

Sarah closed the bedroom door behind her. She didn’t want anyone to hear the questions she needed to ask Amy. She went over to the basket and looked down. The tiny boy was sleeping peacefully, snuggled into his makeshift bed. “He looks well.”

“He’s fine. Did you think I wasn’t taking care of him?” She was still angry and taking it out on Sarah.

“I knew you’d take good care of him, but babies can get sick for no reason at all, and he’s been through a lot in his young life. When I heard you’d left the rescue house, I couldn’t imagine where you’d gone. I was very worried about you.”

She stuck out her lower lip like a spoiled child. “I couldn’t tell them I was coming here, could I?”

“I suppose not. Did Miss Yingling invite you here?” she tried.

“Miss Yingling!” she scoffed, amused by the thought. “Not likely.”

“But you did know Mrs. Van Orner was dead.”

“Sure. Miss Yingling was kind enough to send us a note, so we’d know the old witch was gone.”

Sarah managed not to wince. “It must’ve been a shock.”

“We were all surprised, if that’s what you mean. That Lisa, she bawled like she’d lost her own mother. You never saw such carrying on. The other girls, too, but I don’t think it was for the witch. They were just worried about who was going to feed them now.”

“And you decided Mr. Van Orner was going to feed you,” Sarah guessed.