Tell Me, Pretty Maiden (29 page)

I forgot that I wasn’t supposed to speak. I leaped out of that line and flung myself at the orderly.

“Leave her alone, you filthly lout,” I shouted. “Take your hands off her right now.”

Instantly the orderly turned on me, knocking me across the room with a backhanded blow to my face. He and his fellow were on me right away, with the nurse also standing over me. As I struggled they brought both arms behind my back and one of them knelt on me. “Get a jacket. This one’s violent,” the nurse shouted.

“Let her go,” a voice screamed and Jessie was tugging at them, flailing away like a mad thing.

A whistle was blown. There was the sound of running feet. Someone dragged Jessie away. Someone else was kneeling beside me. I felt my sleeve pulled up and pain as something was jabbed into my arm. Everything started to blur. There was a roaring in my ears and I knew no more.

FORTY-TWO

When I opened my eyes, I was lying staring at a strange ceiling. I tried to raise my head but I felt sick. Gradually I looked around and saw that I was in a small, windowless room. An electric lightbulb shone down from the ceiling. The metal door had a window in it at face height. The only furniture was the shelf on which I was lying. Apart from that there was only a bucket in the corner. I had been in a jail cell before now and it looked a lot like this.

I tried to sit up. The world swung around. How long had I been here and—more to the point—where was I? I realized that my rash intervention yesterday had ruined everything. Now instead of being in a room with Jessie and with a chance to speak to Dr. Meyer, whoever he was, I was in some kind of solitary confinement for violent inmates. Fear began to overtake me. What if they professed no knowledge of me when Elizabeth came to collect me? Was it already my second day and time to be freed?

I staggered drunkenly over to the window and looked out onto an empty hallway. On the other side were similar rooms with windows in their doors, but no sound, no movement. I sat and waited. I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. By the growlings of my stomach I thought that I had probably missed supper. What would happen to me now? I wondered. Would I ever have a chance to speak to a sympathetic person who would listen to my case? I realized that I was now probably classed as violent. Would that give them an excuse to keep me here?

I sat, sunk in deepest gloom, telling myself over and over what an idiot I was. Why did I think I could do these ridiculous things? Daniel had warned me several times that I was like a cat with nine lives and I was using them up all too quickly. Daniel—would he have returned yet? Did he wonder where I was? I missed him horribly. I’d have given anything to feel his strong arms around me. At that moment I didn’t want to be strong and independent. I wanted to be protected and loved and cherished. I wanted to be out of this place right now. Had Elizabeth told Sid and Gus of our plan? Was she at this moment coming to rescue me? And then the nagging fear—would she find me, now that I had been placed among the violent?

Hours dragged by. At last the door was opened and a tray was pushed into the room, the door then closed hastily behind it. On the tray was a bowl of soup, a slice of gray meat, and a thick piece of bread. Not breakfast then. But was this lunch or dinner? And on what day? I dipped the bread in the soup and ate both that way but could not swallow the stringy meat.

At last I heard the sound of voices faintly outside in the hallway. I rushed to the window. A group of men, some wearing white coats, were moving down the hall. Two of them were deep in conversation. It took me a second to register that one of those men was Dr. Birnbaum.

“Dr. Birnbaum!” I shouted his name.

He didn’t appear to have heard me. Maybe there was a racket coming from other rooms. I grabbed the tray that had not yet been picked up and hammered against the door with all my might. “Dr. Birnbaum. It’s me, Molly. Molly Murphy. Help me. Get me out of here,” I screamed. He didn’t turn around as the group of men disappeared down the hallway and were gone.

I sank back onto the bench in deepest despair. No hope. Daniel, come and find me, I whispered. I must have dozed off because I woke with a start as the door opened. Two burly guards jerked me to my feet. “Come on. Move.” They half-carried me out of the door and down the hallway. I began to feel hopeful again. Elizabeth had arrived and I was to be released. Everything was going to be all right.

We passed through a door into another world. This one smelled of disinfectant, like a hospital, but it was clean and bright and I was manhandled into what looked like a doctor’s office. There was an examining couch and a table with medical instruments on it, including a long and wicked-looking syringe. My captors continued to hold my arms tightly, their big thumbs digging into my flesh. Through a half-open door I heard a man speaking: “I know it sounds barbaric, but I have to tell you that it has produced some remarkable results. Injecting them with typhoid seems to work better than the other diseases. It produces the highest fever and a reasonable percentage survive. And of those who do, some seem to be permanently cured.”

“Interesting,” another man said. “I should certainly like to witness this.”

The door was pushed open and a large florid man in a white coat came into the room. “So this is the next candidate for our little experiment, it is?” he said jovially, and I realized what the syringe on the table was for.

I struggled to stand up. “Wait. No. Listen to me. I am not insane. Ask Nelly Bly. She’s coming to get me out today—”

Then I heard the words, “
Gott im Himmel
. Miss Murphy?”

The first doctor stepped aside and Dr. Birnbaum was standing behind him, staring at me in disbelief.

“Miss Murphy. What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I was trying to rescue Jessie,” I said, still gasping for air. “They said you’d gone away. They wouldn’t let me see her, so this was the only way.”

“My dear Fraulein.” Dr. Birnbaum came over to me.

“Watch her, doctor. She’s a lively one,” the orderly said.

“I believe I can handle her, thank you,” the doctor said. “My dear colleague, this young lady is as sane as you or I. I can personally vouch for her.”

Hands released me. Soon I was sitting in Dr. Meyer’s office, explaining my presence. Even as I said the words I realized how ridiculous and impatient I had been. “I didn’t know how long you’d be away,” I concluded lamely.

“So you took matters into your own hands.”

“With the help of Nelly Bly.”

“Nelly Bly?”

“The famous reporter. She went undercover in an insane asylum once. She was my co-conspirator. She was supposed to come and release me by now, but everything went wrong. I found Jessie and one of the men started fondling her. I tried to pull him off her. They gave me some kind of injection and that’s the last thing I remember.”

“So our girl is here?” He looked pleased. “How is her condition? Any improvement?”

“She can speak,” I said. “And understand. I didn’t have a chance to talk with her, of course, but she came to my defense so she might now be in a cell like the one I was in.”

“Which girl is this?” the other doctor asked.

Dr. Birnbaum explained and someone was sent to fetch her.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you,” I said to Dr. Birnbaum as the other doctor left the room. “I thought you’d gone away, maybe back to Europe.”

“Europe? I told the hotel I had been called away for a few days, that’s all. Dr. Meyer invited me to come and stay with him and witness his latest experiments.”

“You’ve been staying here all the time?” I looked at him and started to laugh.

Soon after that Jessie was brought to us in a pleasant sitting room. She came in looking terrified, and the look in her eyes when she recognized me and Dr. Birnbaum was wonderful. I embraced her and she started to cry. We stood there clinging to each other and crying. I believe even Dr. Birnbaum wiped away a tear.

“You’re safe with us now,” I said. “We’re going to take you home.”

We were treated very differently on the return voyage to Manhattan and helped ashore into the arms of a very worried Elizabeth.

“Molly, I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you,” she said. “They told me you had been taken to the wing for violent patients and there was no way they were going to release you to me. I was just on my way back to round up some reporters and a police escort. I thought we might have to storm the place.”

“All is well,” I said. “And this is Jessie.”

“The girl in the snowdrift?” Elizabeth beamed at her.

“I remember now,” Jessie said slowly to me. “There was snow. Lots of snow. The whole world was white. You carried me out of the snow.”

“What else do you remember?” I asked.

“Not very much. Bad men. Horrible things, but all a blur, like a nightmare. I know that I was very afraid.”

“Those men are now locked up in jail,” I said.

“When did your power of speech return?” Dr. Birnbaum asked.

“When I saw those men again, suddenly things started to come back to me. I knew they were bad and I was afraid of them,” Jessie answered in no more than a whisper, like one who is surprised to discover she has a voice. “But I knew I had to pretend to be witless if I wanted to stay alive. My plan was to get strong enough to run away. But then they lost patience and decided to send me to the asylum until my wits returned. Then I truly despaired, until this lady came for me.”

“Molly,” I said. “My name is Molly.”

A cab took us back to my house. Dr. Birnbaum sat and talked with Jessie while I made us all a good meal.

“What I don’t understand,” I said, “is why they wanted to keep you alive and wait for your memory to come back.”

She frowned for a moment and then she said slowly, “Because I am the only one who knows where the loot is buried.”

B
y the next day we were able to piece it together.

“You left the theater with Annie and John Jacob Halsted to go out to a late dinner,” I prompted as Dr. Birnbaum and Elizabeth sat beside us in my living room.

“Annie?” She closed her eyes and a great shudder went through her. “They killed Annie,” she said at last.

“I know.”

“They would have killed me, too.”

“I’m sure they would. So what happened when you reached the Silverton Mansion? Did Mr. Halsted rob the place? Did Annie help him?”

Her pretty eyes opened wide. “It wasn’t JJ,” she said. “We got there and JJ stopped the automobile to open the gates and suddenly this man jumped into the front seat and he held a gun up to Annie’s head. He shouted at JJ to drive as fast as he could or he’d kill us. He had a great sack with him. JJ did what he said and drove away. When we came to a wooded area the man made us stop. He made us get out and clear away the snow and hide the sack with branches over it and then pile snow on top. And when we had finished, he turned to JJ and he said, ‘We don’t need you anymore,’ and he shot him. Just like that.” Her voice trembled and tears started to run down her cheeks. “Then he made Annie and me cover his body up with branches and snow until it was hidden. Then he made us get into the car again. He had that gun beside him in the front seat all the time.” She looked up at us hopelessly, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Elizabeth put a hand onto Jessie’s arm. “You don’t have to go on right now. It’s not wise to distress yourself so much after what you’ve been through.”

“No, I want to tell you,” Jessie said. “When we came to a town he found a telephone at a tavern. He took us in with him and he had the gun pointed at Annie’s side. He said if we made one sound, we’d both be shot. We knew he meant it. He made a telephone call to someone.”

“In what language?” I asked. “Did he speak English?”

“His English was not too good,” she said. “He was speaking Italian, I believe. Then he made us get back in the auto and he drove really fast toward New York. We came around an icy bend and he lost control. We skidded into this big tree. I was thrown out and I don’t remember anymore.”

She paused. I handed her a glass of water and she took a sip. “Now comes the hard part,” she said. “When I came to, I was lying on the ground in the darkness. I crawled around and I found Annie. She was badly hurt and in a lot of pain. I saw that the man was still in the front seat of the car, but he looked as if he was dead. I wanted to go and get help, but Annie didn’t want me to leave her, so I stayed with her. We were sure that help would come eventually.

“Then after a long time we heard a sound and a motor vehicle of some sort was coming toward us. I jumped up and waved my arms. It stopped. Three men got out. They saw our wreck and they started speaking fast in Italian. One asked me what happened and I told him. Then they talked fast again. They took the dead man and put him into the trunk of their auto. Then they saw Annie. She was lying there and couldn’t move.

“I said, ‘Please help my friend. We must get her to a hospital.’ And do you know what they did? One of them took out a gun and fired it at her. Bang. She was dead. I tried to run away. They fired after me and I thought they’d kill me, too, but they ran after me and grabbed me and shoved me into the automobile. They put Annie’s body in the seat as well, beside me. When we came to a creek, they stopped and threw her body into the water. Then they drove on.” She looked up with despair written on her face. I took her hand. “That’s when it all becomes hazy,” she said. “I know we crossed a bridge and I knew I had to escape. I remember jumping out and then I just ran and ran. That’s all I know.”

After I had settled Jessie, I sent a note to Mrs. Goodwin and asked Mrs. Tucker to resume her role as nurse. After all I had been through, I didn’t feel up to facing Miss Van Woekem with the news just yet. Mrs. Tucker arrived and proposed that Jessie go back to her house to recuperate. “I’ve all my own cooking utensils there,” she said, “and this young one needs good nourishing food.” I thought that was a splendid idea, just in case any of those gang members ever came looking for her at my place.

“I don’t know where I’ll go after that,” Jessie said. “I don’t think I can go back to New Haven. I couldn’t bear it.”

“Let’s not worry about the future,” Mrs. Tucker said. “All we have to do right now is fatten you up.”

“Not fatten me up or I’ll never be able to dance again.” Jessie actually smiled.

“If you want to dance again,” I said, “I know the very person. Blanche Lovejoy owes me a favor.” As I said this I realized that Blanche’s maid had killed somebody. Now that I was home again, I should find out if she had confessed to the police. She ought not to be allowed to get away with murder.

The afternoon post arrived as I was getting Jessie ready to leave with Mrs. Tucker. One of the letters was from Blanche Lovejoy, the other from Daniel. At last he bothers to write, I thought angrily, and read the other one first. It contained a check and a note thanking me for my services. And at the bottom an extra sentence in small letters. “Martha took her own life last night.”