Murder on Sisters' Row (30 page)

Sarah accepted the cup her hostess offered. “I can certainly see why you took it upon yourself to circumvent the system by reporting false names for the women that you helped.”

“What do you think of the tea?” she asked.

Sarah took a sip. She found it unpleasantly bitter and could understand why extra sugar would be necessary. “It’s very unusual,” she said tactfully.

“It comes from Madagascar, I believe. It’s very rare in this country.”

Sarah thought it probably wasn’t likely to become popular either.

Her hostess tasted hers. “You’ll find the flavor improves as you drink it.”

Sarah obediently lifted the cup to her lips again, wishing propriety didn’t demand that she politely drink something that tasted so awful.

“I had no other choice but to report false names for the women we rescued. As I’m sure you can imagine, Mrs. Brandt, a woman who has worked as a prostitute would never qualify for charity under the requirements of the COS. They would consider her immorality a character flaw and determine that her own weakness had caused her distress.”

Sarah nodded. She could see that clearly.

“Do you need more sugar?” Mrs. Spratt-Williams asked.

“Oh, no, this is fine,” Sarah lied and lifted the cup again. “I understand that Mrs. Van Orner didn’t approve of you falsifying the names.”

Distaste flickered over her face, but she managed a small smile. “Yes, Vivian and I did disagree on this matter.”

“That’s unfortunate, since you were such good friends.”

“We were
old
friends, that’s true,” she said, making a distinction Sarah didn’t quite understand. “I may honestly say that Vivian was my last remaining friend in the world.”

“I’m sure that isn’t true,” Sarah said as common courtesy demanded, although she knew from what she had heard that this was probably true.

“Oh, yes, it is. You see, I experienced a tragedy of my own almost a decade ago that cost me practically everything I held dear.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” Sarah put the cup to her lips again.

“The worst part is that I had no hand at all in the evil that happened, yet I alone suffered for it.”

Sarah nodded her understanding. “That’s often the case, unfortunately. But you seem to have risen above it.”

“You’re kind to say so, but you know nothing of my life before the tragedy. My husband was a wealthy man as a result of his family’s business interests. He lacked his father’s talents at making money, however, and after his father’s death, his businesses ceased to prosper.”

“A very common story.”

“I suppose so, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear. My husband longed to improve his fortunes, and he learned of a new business venture out West somewhere. I’m not sure exactly what it was. He never confided the details to me, but he invested in it and persuaded many of our friends to do the same. He wanted them to benefit, too, you see.”

Sarah thought perhaps the friends might have seen things differently, but she nodded encouragingly. “Of course he did.”

“As I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, this venture was not successful, and all the money was lost. My husband suffered along with everyone else, but our friends had no sympathy for that. Some had lost far more than they ever should have risked, and they were completely ruined, but that wasn’t Harold’s fault, was it? They should have known better.”

They should have, but no one ever blamed their own poor judgment in a situation like this. “It must have been very difficult for you.”

“Oh, it was. Not only did we lose our own money, but our friends deserted us. Our lives became very different, as you can imagine.”

Sarah could easily imagine. “Was Amy’s father one of the people who lost money in the scheme?” Sarah asked.

Mrs. Spratt-Williams smiled slightly. “You’re very perceptive, Mrs. Brandt. I knew you were. That is why I invited you here today. I knew you would discern the connection once you had all the facts.”

“I can certainly understand why you took such an interest in helping her.”

“I didn’t do it out of guilt, you understand. I was in no way responsible for what happened to her, but if I could ease her path in any way, I felt an obligation to try. Your tea will be getting cold.”

Sarah raised the cup again. “I’m guessing Mrs. Van Orner felt just the opposite about helping Amy.”

“Oh, yes, and Amy had no one to blame for that but herself. If she hadn’t made such a point of letting Vivian know she had been Gregory’s mistress, she would have fared very well.”

“She’s faring well now,” Sarah reminded her.

“Is she?” Mrs. Spratt-Williams said with an odd smile. “Time will tell.”

Sarah supposed she was right. Gregory Van Orner had tired of her once, and he might again.

“I’m glad to find you so perceptive, Mrs. Brandt. I do want you to understand, but perhaps I won’t need to explain everything to you. When our friends deserted us and our circumstances were so greatly reduced, I was no longer welcome in homes where I had been received for years. I had little opportunity for society or the company of my social equals. All I had left was the service Vivian offered me as a member of her group at Rahab’s Daughters.”

“She proved to be a good friend to you.”

“In her own way, but she never showed me the same compassion she had for the women we rescued.”

Sarah couldn’t imagine why Mrs. Spratt-Williams would need compassion. “In what way?”

“As I said, we disagreed about reporting the names of the women we helped to the COS. They would never permit one of their members to violate the rules, and when I begged her to allow Amy to stay at the rescue house, she told me she was going to report me for falsifying records. I would never be able to work with any of the charity organizations again.”

 

 

M
ISS YINGLING SWUNG HER FEET DOWN TO THE FLOOR and gazed up at Frank and Van Orner with the self-confidence Frank had come to expect from her. “I know who killed both of them.”

Van Orner glared down at her. “Tamar, you can’t expect us to—”

“Wait,” Frank said. “I’d like to hear what she has to say.”

“I just remembered, Mrs. Brandt wasn’t the only one here on Saturday. She’d been here earlier, with her mother, and she came back later with Mrs. Spratt-Williams. Mrs. Spratt-Williams had been worried about Amy and wanted to make sure she was all right.”

“That’s what I would expect from her,” Van Orner said.

“Don’t you see? She was there, too, so she also knew I was taking Amy shopping this morning.”

“You can’t think that Mrs. Spratt-Williams would kill anyone,” Van Orner said, angry at her for even thinking such a thing. “And why would she want to kill Vivian, who was her closest friend?”

“Because Vivian was going to destroy her life!”

The two men gaped at her. Frank found his tongue first. “How could she do that?”

“By telling the Charity Organization Society that she’d been sending them fake names.”

“Fake names?”

“Yes, we had to report the names of everyone we helped through Rahab’s Daughters. They keep very careful records, and none of the other organizations ever give charity to anyone without checking the records first. If they feel someone isn’t worthy, then that person gets nothing.”

Frank frowned. “Would they think women who’d been prostitutes weren’t worthy?”

“Of course! They’d think it showed moral weakness. So when she reported the names, Mrs. Spratt-Williams would change them, so if one of the women asked for help later, using her real name, there wouldn’t be a record of her.”

Frank considered that a very clever way of bypassing an unfair rule, but Van Orner obviously disagreed. “You mean Tonya lied? I can hardly credit it. But then there was that business with her husband.”

“What business?”

“He had some company that was digging for gold . . . or maybe it was silver. I can’t remember. He told everyone he was going to make a fortune, and a lot of his friends invested. They lost every penny.”

“Even him?” Frank asked.

“I suppose so. I didn’t see much of him after that. He wasn’t welcome in the clubs anymore. He died shortly afterwards, I think. Bad heart, they said, although most people thought it was the shame. One poor devil he’d cheated had shot himself.”

“Mrs. Spratt-Williams wasn’t welcome anywhere either,” Miss Yingling continued. “Vivian was her only friend, and her charity work was her only activity. Vivian was going to take that away from her and make sure she was never allowed back into the fold.”

Plainly, Van Orner wasn’t impressed. “Are you trying to tell me she’d kill someone over something so silly?”

“It wasn’t silly to Mrs. Spratt-Williams!” she cried, jumping to her feet. “I saw her before she left the rescue house the day Vivian died. She and Vivian had quarreled, and she was devastated. I’ve never seen her so upset. I went to Vivian, to make sure she was all right, and she was so angry, she was trembling. She said she was going to ruin Mrs. Spratt-Williams’s reputation.”

Van Orner snorted. “This is ridiculous, Malloy. She’s just trying to save herself. Take her away.”

Frank didn’t think it was all that ridiculous. “Would Mrs. Van Orner really have ruined her friend over changing the names?”

“She didn’t approve, but I think she was using that as an excuse. She was really mad because Mrs. Spratt-Williams was defending Amy. She was begging Vivian to let her stay at the rescue house, and that made Vivian furious.” She looked at Van Orner. “Because Amy made sure Vivian knew you were the father of her baby.”

Van Orner just shook his head. “Even if we could believe that a respectable woman like Tonya would murder her friend over some silly argument, why on earth would she kill Amy?”

“Because Amy knew all about it! She’d eavesdropped on their argument that day at the rescue house, and she let Mrs. Spratt-Williams know she knew all about it when she was visiting here on Saturday.”

“Are you saying she killed
two
people to keep this stupid secret?” Van Orner scoffed.

Frank’s mind was spinning. “So Amy told Mrs. Spratt-Williams she knew her secret. That might give her a reason to kill Amy, too, but how did she do it? Amy didn’t die until two days later.”

“I don’t know, but she was here again yesterday,” Miss Yingling said uncertainly.

“Who?”

“Mrs. Spratt-Williams. She visited Amy.”

“What did they talk about?”

“I wasn’t with them. Amy saw her alone, but . . . Oh, wait, I know something that . . . Oh, my, I know how she killed her!”

“How?” Frank demanded.

“Gregory had hired a nurse to take care of the baby, and Amy wouldn’t have to feed him herself anymore. She’d even asked Mrs. Brandt on Saturday about how to stop her . . . her milk,” she said, flushing slightly at the delicate nature of the conversation.

“For God’s sake, do we have to hear this?” Van Orner asked.

“Go on,” Frank said.

“Mrs. Brandt told her what to do and warned her she’d be very uncomfortable for a few days. Amy never liked to be uncomfortable. This morning, Amy told me that Mrs. Spratt-Williams had brought her a potion to take that would dry up her milk instantly, and she wouldn’t have a moment of discomfort.”

“What kind of potion?”

“I have no idea, but she was bragging about it to me in the carriage this morning. She said Mrs. Spratt-Williams told her not to take it until the nurse arrived, in case she was delayed or something and Amy had to keep feeding the baby for another day or two. She said it worked very quickly, so Amy had waited until the nurse came this morning.” She looked up at Frank, her eyes wide. “She must have taken it just before we left the house.”

Frank felt the hair on the back of his neck rising. “Where would she have put the empty bottle?”

“Probably in her room.”

“Show me,” Frank said.

“This is outrageous,” Van Orner protested, but Miss Yingling was already across the room with Frank at her heels.

She led him upstairs and down a hallway to one of the closed doors. She threw it open and stopped, taking stock. The bed was unmade, and Amy’s few belongings were strewn around. Some toiletries sat on the dressing table. Miss Yingling went straight to it, looking over the bottles. Frank was right behind her. He saw it first.

“This is it.” He picked up the small brown bottle. The cork that had stoppered it lay nearby. It was empty except for a drop or two in the bottom. He sniffed. “Laudanum.”

“Dear God. But why kill Amy? She actually seemed partial to her. She’d even tried to convince Vivian not to turn her out of the rescue house.”

“She must have been worried that Amy would tell what she knew about her argument with Mrs. Van Orner. Did Mrs. Spratt-Williams know Mrs. Walker?”

“She’d never met her, but she knew all about her from helping to plan Amy’s rescue. I know this sounds like I’m just trying to throw suspicion from myself onto Mrs. Spratt-Williams, and you don’t have any reason to believe
me
, but Mrs. Brandt can tell you all this is true. You said she’s helping you, so I know you’ll believe what she says. She was there when they planned the rescue, and she was here when Amy told Mrs. Spratt-Williams that she knew all about her argument with Vivian. Mrs. Brandt knows everything I just told you except about the potion.”

Frank felt the truth like a blow to the stomach. Mrs. Spratt-Williams was the killer, Sarah knew all the damming evidence, and she was having tea with her this afternoon!

 

 

S
ARAH STARED AT MRS. SPRATT-WILLIAMS, WHO WAS looking back at her with the oddest expression on her face, almost as if she were expecting something from her. Sarah thought she knew what it was. She’d said she was impressed by Sarah’s perception, and now she expected Sarah to understand something. Her mind was racing, trying to figure out what it might be.