“Death?” Sarah echoed stupidly.
Mrs. Elsworth opened her eyes and looked straight at her. “The white cricket means a death is coming to someone close.”
“Oh, I’m sure that-”
“And then there was my dream. You were in it, Mrs. Brandt. You were running and running, trying to catch someone, but you couldn’t, and then I saw her. I couldn’t see her face, but she was dead, and I was so afraid… Well, I had to make sure you were all right, didn’t I?”
“And as you can see. I’m perfectly fine. I’d be better if you’d allow me to listen to your heart, though. Just to make sure you’re fine. too,” she added with a small smile.
“It’s really not necessary, but if it will make you happy,” she conceded.
Sarah was relieved to hear the older woman’s heart beating rapidly but strongly.
“Didn’t I tell you?” Mrs. Elsworth said as Sarah put the stethoscope away.
“I’d be a poor neighbor if I were less concerned about you than you are about me,” Sarah pointed out.
Mrs. Elsworth sighed. “At least I’m not going out at all hours of the day and night looking for a killer.”
“Neither am I,” Sarah said.
“You were out yesterday, weren’t you? All day. I think that’s what brought on my dream, worrying about you. I knew it wasn’t a delivery. I saw the man who called for you yesterday morning.”
Of course she had. No one came onto the street that Mrs. Elsworth didn’t see.
“If you saw the man who called for me, you should have known there was nothing to worry about.”
Mrs. Elsworth sniffed. “I hope you won’t think I’m meddling, but I don’t believe that fellow is a proper companion for you, Mrs. Brandt.”
“Dirk?” Sarah asked in surprise. He had called for her in a hansom cab, which had seemed excessive to Sarah, since they were taking the trolley to Coney Island. She would have thought that would have impressed Mrs. Elsworth, however. “Why do you think he’s not proper?”
“I know that look,” she said. “He’s a man who’s seen too much of the world. He’ll always be restless and angry. No woman will ever satisfy him for long.”
Sarah was awed that her neighbor could make such an accurate assessment of Dirk Schyler just by catching a quick glimpse of him. “You don’t need to worry about me, Mrs. Elsworth. I won’t be seeing him again.”
“That is a relief,” she admitted, managing a strained smile. She still looked shaken, though. Sarah might consider her superstitions ridiculous, but Mrs. Elsworth took them very seriously indeed, and this one had truly frightened her. Not badly enough that she forgot important things, however. “And how is that nice Mr. Malloy?” she asked. “I haven’t seen him around for a white.”
Sarah managed not to choke at the description of Malloy as “nice.” “I haven’t seen him around in a while either,” she said, “so I have no idea how he is.”
“Now, you should know Mr. Malloy would be a much better match for you than that fellow from yesterday, Mrs. Brandt,” Mrs. Elsworth said.
This time Sarah did choke. “Are you serious?” she asked when she could talk again.
“Perfectly. Oh, I know he’s Irish and a Catholic, but I don’t imagine that would stop either of you if you decided you wanted to be together.”
“I must say, you have an odd idea of what’s proper and what isn‘t,” Sarah said, thinking her mother’s-and Malloy’s mother’s and everyone else’s-was exactly the opposite.
“Not odd,” Mrs. Elsworth said. “Just practical. You’ll understand when you’re older, or at least I hope you will. Well, now that I’ve satisfied myself that you’re all right, I’ll let you be about your business. Just promise that you’ll be careful, won’t you? Dreams are sometimes omens, and the cricket definitely was. You mark my words.”
“I’m always careful,” Sarah assured her, not quite accurately. She would be until Gerda’s killer was caught, though. And with any luck, that wouldn’t be long.
SARAH WAS JUST putting on her hat that afternoon to go out when someone knocked on her door. She was surprised to see Malloy standing on her doorstep. She hadn’t sent for him yet, because she’d wanted to talk to Gerda’s friends first. If one of them knew this Will fellow, that would save a lot of time. She’d been planning to catch them as they left Faircloth’s this evening, but this was even better. Malloy could go with her to question the girls, and she could fill him in on the way.
But then she got a look at his face. “What’s happened?” she asked in alarm, thinking of his son.
“That girl Lisle has been murdered.”
11
SARAH COULDN’T GET HER BREATH, AND SHE didn’t resist at all when Malloy took her arm and guided her to a chair, just as she had done for Mrs. Elsworth that morning.
“Are you sure?” she asked, knowing she was grasping at a straw but praying it would hold nonetheless.
“As sure as we can be. Her face is pretty bad.”
She felt the gorge rising in her throat and covered her mouth with both hands..
“You’re not going to faint on me, are you? Put your head down,” he said.
“No, I’m fine,” she said, alarmed at how her voice sounded. She didn’t want to be a detective anymore. She didn’t want to know about any other young lives being snuffed out.
“You don’t look fine,” Malloy said, his own voice alarming as well. He sounded frightened. “You got any smelling salts around here?”
She did, of course, but she wasn’t going to need them. Her head was clearing now. She swallowed down hard on the sickness in her throat and clung fiercely to her pride. “Just tell me what happened. Tell me everything.”
“You aren’t in any condition to hear about it,” he said. “I just wanted you to know so you didn’t have to find out from some stranger.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Thank you for that. I was on my way to Faircloths. I wanted to talk to Lisle”-she had to stop and swallow after saying the girl’s name-“about something I discovered at Coney Island yesterday.”
“You found out something?” he asked, sounding insulted. “Were you planning to tell me about it?”
“Yes, of course, just as soon as I’d talked to Lisle and the others.”
He pulled up her desk chair and sat down facing her. “Tell me now.”
Sarah drew another breath. She was feeling more like herself, but the pain was beginning. She could see Lisle, the fragile-looking girl with the will of iron. Sarah remembered how frightened she had been about meeting George and taking him out of the dance hall so Malloy could question him. She’d been too frightened to go home that night, so she’d stayed at Sarah’s instead. Sleeping in Sarah’s bed, she’d looked like an innocent child, with her hand curled against her cheek and her corn-yellow hair spread out on the pillow.
Sarah thought of her death, how terrified she must have been. The pain and the fear and the knowledge that she knew who the killer was but would never be able to tell anyone. How many others would have to die before they could stop him?
She swiped impatiently at the tears that sprang to her eyes. She didn’t have time for that now. “Do you have any idea who did it?”
“Well, I did question our friend George, even though I was pretty sure he didn’t do it. He didn’t. He was with a group of fellows playing cards all night. They were pretty drunk, but they all said George never left the room for more than a few minutes. He was pretty broken up about the girl, too. I guess he cared for her a little.”
Sarah wasn’t surprised George was innocent. “I found the place where Gerda got the red shoes. In Coney Island, at a shop in the Elephant Hotel: The shopkeeper remembered that the man who bought them for her was named Will.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“Is that all?” he asked impatiently.
“Yes, that’s all! It proves that Gerda knew this Will fellow, too. We know it wasn’t George, so this Will must be
