They ain’t looking for romance. It’s a business with them.”
“Just like it is with you,” Frank pointed out. “I guess you brag to your friends that you never have to pay for it, too.”
He was insulted again. “Nobody forces them to do it.”
Frank had his own opinions about that, but he kept them to himself. He wasn’t getting anywhere discussing the reasons these girls did what they did. He wanted to know why someone had killed them.
“So you don’t have an alibi for the night Gerda was killed.”
“I told you, I stayed at the dance hall. Lots of people saw me there.”
“Lots of people who won’t remember one night from the other. And what about the nights the other girls were murdered?”
“I don’t even know what nights you mean! I didn’t even know they was dead!” He was whining now, like a whipped dog. Frank wanted to stuff him into one of the ash cans and leave him here with the rest of the trash. If he did, no one would even care. No one except Sarah Brandt, who wouldn’t want to see an innocent man punished, no matter how despicable he might be.
Frank sighed, defeated. “Maybe you ought to be careful for a while, George,” he said. “Seems like the girls you play dip the wick with have a nasty habit of turning up dead.”
“Not all of them,” he protested. “There’s been dozens that’re still alive and kicking. Ask that girl I was with tonight, Lisle. She’ll tell you!”
That was all Frank could stand. Even Sarah Brandt would forgive him for this. He drove his fist into George’s soft stomach, hitting him neatly in the spot just beneath his ribs that would leave him gasping helplessly for breath and certain he was going to die, but do no actual harm.
As he doubled over and slumped to the filthy ground, Frank said, “You should learn a little respect for young ladies, George. It would serve you well.”
NIGHT HAD FALLEN completely by the time Frank got to Sarah Brandt’s house. He didn’t ask himself why he had gone directly there after finishing with George. He didn’t really want to know the reason. He just knew he wanted to tell her what he’d learned. She’d be anxious to know.
He wasn’t even sure if she’d be there. She might have taken Lisle home first. She might not have gotten back yet. She might even have been summoned to deliver a baby somewhere. But when he turned onto Bank Street, he saw a light in her front window. For a moment he wondered if he should go inside. What would her neighbors think? The old biddy next door would certainly see him, even if no one else did.
On the other hand, strange men probably came to her door at all hours of the day and night to summon her to birthings. His presence could hardly shock anyone.
She looked pleased to see him, but she put her finger to her lips, indicating he should be quiet. “I brought Lisle home with me,” she whispered. “She didn’t get any sleep last night for worrying about meeting George tonight. She was so exhausted, she almost fell asleep in the chair, so I made her lie down in my bed. I think if we go out in the backyard, we won’t bother her, though.”
He followed her through the shadowy house, enjoying the odd sense of intimacy their silence created. He was beginning to feel too comfortable in her home. He’d have to make sure this case didn’t drag on much longer. He’d have to stop seeing her very soon if he hoped to be able to resume his old life again without regrets.
Her backyard was cooler than the house, if only a little. The flowers masked the stench of the summer city, and only when Frank settled into one of the wicker chairs with a sigh did he realize how weary he was.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, and disappeared into the house. When she returned, she carried a bottle and a glass. She poured him a shot of whiskey. “You sounded like you needed it,” she said by way of explanation.
Although he usually avoided the stuff, tonight he made an exception. He downed it gratefully, in one swallow.
She waited until he had to ask, “Is George the killer?”
“I don’t think so. In fact, I don’t think he knew one of the girls at all. It’s that, or he’s a very good liar.”
“That’s possible, isn’t it?”
“Of course. He might have killed all four girls and more besides that we don’t know about and be able to lie right in my face about it. There’s men can do that. Not many of them, though, thank God, or we’d never catch any criminals at all. They all lie. It’s just that most of them aren’t very good at it.”
“Does he remember where he was the night Gerda was killed?”
“Says he stayed at the dance hall. Nobody’s likely to remember whether he did or not, since one night’s pretty much like another at those places, so he doesn’t have a good alibi.”
“Which is just what you said would be the case with an innocent man.”
Frank rubbed his chin, surprised at the growth of beard there. He should’ve gotten a shave before meeting her this evening. “Or a very clever killer.”
“What do you think?”
“He doesn’t strike me as very clever.”
She sighed. “I guess I was foolish to think it would be so easy.”
“There’s nothing wrong with hoping. Sometimes it is that easy.”
“But not very often, or else they wouldn’t need men like you to be detectives,” she said, teasing him with his own words.
He couldn’t argue.
“Lisle is a little worried that George might take some revenge on her,” she said.
“She can tell him she didn’t know anything about it. He’s not clever enough to doubt her.”
“I’ll be sure she knows. She’s very frightened.”
“Good. Maybe it will save her life.”
She sat back in her chair, swallowed up in the shadows. For a long moment they simply sat there, listening to the night sounds of the city. He was just thinking he should take his leave when she said, “What’s the next step?”
“I’ll try to find the other men on the list. The ones who were on three of the four lists, that is. I’ll question them and see if I suspect any of them are lying.”
“And what can I do in the meantime?”
He’d meant to say “nothing.” It was the only sensible thing to say. Instead, he heard himself saying, “Can you tell me just exactly where that deaf school you told me about is?”
SARAH KNEW MALLOY would not approve of her questioning the friends of the other dead girls again. The problem was, she couldn’t just sit by and wait to hear from Malloy again. Luckily, she had insisted on copying the list of suspects over more neatly for Malloy, and she had kept the original. Which meant she also had a list of the names of the men the dead girls had been seeing just prior to their deaths. The list was shorter now that they had virtually eliminated George. That left only three names. Sarah thought if she could find out some more about these men, perhaps she could figure out the most likely suspect. She was certain that someone who had murdered four women must have some notable characteristic that would distinguish him from normal men.
She only hoped she was right about that.
Sarah had sent Luisa Isenberg’s sister, Ella, a note asking if she could call on her the following day. She’d also asked if the sister could gather Luisa’s friends to answer a few more questions. She was disappointed to find only Ella and one other girl waiting for her at the beer garden when she arrived the next evening.
“Nobody else wants to talk about it anymore,” Ella explained when Sarah had greeted them and sat down at the table. Ella was a plump girl with unruly curls which she tried unsuccessfully to tame into the latest style of smooth pompadour.
“They think it’ll be bad luck or something,” the other girl said. Her name was Ingrid, and she had been of little help the first time Sarah had questioned Luisa’s friends.
“I know it’s difficult talking about all of it again,” Sarah said, trying to sound sympathetic when she was really feeling impatient. “But I have some new information, and I was hoping you could help me figure out what it means.”
“New information?” Ingrid asked, glancing at Ella uncertainly.
“Yes, we made a list of all the men who had been… uh… seeing the girls right before they died. We were
