“I’m not a
“Yes, ma‘am,” O’Brien said, coughing to hide a chuckle.
Sarah was coughing, too. She knew she must be in shock. Why else would she be fighting the urge to laugh when a semiconscious killer was lying trussed like a Christmas turkey in her kitchen?
“You know,” Mrs. Elsworth was saying, “it’s the oddest thing. I didn’t see a single omen today, either. You’d think that with something this important, I would’ve seen
Sarah could think of no reasonable answer to that. Luckily, Malloy chose that moment to arrive, so she didn’t have to. He, too, was red-faced, probably from rushing in this heat. Sarah and Mrs. Elsworth were sitting in chairs in Sarah’s front office, while O’Brien, the beat cop, and Nelson Elsworth stood around helplessly.
Frank took in the scene with one swift glance. His main concern was making sure that Sarah Brandt was all right, and she appeared to be, although her hair was loose and tangled, something he’d never expected to see. He found the sight more than a little disturbing.
Before he could ask her what had happened, she said, “Lars Otto killed Gerda. He’d gone out looking for her that night, and he saw her go into an alley with a man. That made him furious, so he apparently accosted her afterward and started beating her. He may not have intended to kill her, but he did. His wife saw that his hands were all bruised when he came home that night, but he told her some men had tried to rob him, and he’d fought with them. She wanted to believe him, so she did. Oh!” she added as a new and apparently very disturbing thought occurred to her. “He also beat his wife. We should send someone to make sure she and the children are all right. I went to see Agnes Otto this afternoon, and she told me what happened. He may have beaten her again, too!”
Malloy glanced at O‘Brien, who nodded his understanding. “What’s the address, ma’am?” he asked Sarah.
Sarah gave it to him, and he went out to use the call box again.
Frank walked over to the kitchen doorway and looked down at where Lars Otto lay, moaning softly. Blood was oozing from the back of his scalp, and he was tied hand and foot with what appeared to be about a mile of clothes rope. “Somebody want to tell me what happened here tonight?”
“I heard Mrs. Brandt screaming,” Mrs. Elsworth said rather proudly. Plainly, she couldn’t wait to tell him her story. “So I ran over to see what was the matter. Luckily,” she added with a twinkle, “I thought to take my cast-iron skillet with me, just in case.”
Frank glanced at where the skillet now sat on the kitchen table. “You hit him with
“My mother isn’t a very strong woman,” Nelson Elsworth said, rushing to his mother’s defense. “I’m sure no permanent damage has been done to this gentleman.”
“I can’t say I’d mind if there was, if what Mrs. Brandt here says about him is true,” Frank allowed. “I’m just amazed that he held still for you to do it, Mrs. Elsworth.”
“Oh, he was rather busy trying to kill Mrs. Brandt with that poker at the time,” Mrs. Elsworth informed him cheerfully. “I don’t think he even knew I was there.”
Frank felt the impact of her words like a blow to his gut. He struggled to get his breath, but before he could, Sarah jumped in with her version.
“He broke in,” she told him somewhat defensively, pointing toward the smashed door lock. “He was quite angry that I’d tried to convince his wife to leave him for her own safety. I think he also must have realized that she’d told me enough to make me realize he’d killed Gerda. He must have thought if he killed me, no one would ever find out what he’d done.”
Somehow Frank managed to find enough breath to speak in a fairly normal voice. “He told you he killed the Reinhard girl?”
She nodded.
Frank looked down at Otto again and noticed something he’d missed the first time. He bent and retrieved a hank of long, golden hair that clung to the man’s trousers. It had been pulled out by the roots. Impotent rage twisted in his stomach at the thought of how Sarah’s hair had come to be clinging to Otto’s trousers.
“Mrs. Brandt put, up quite a struggle,” Mrs. Elsworth informed him. “He was dragging her around by her hair and trying to hit her with the poker when I came in.”
Sarah reached up and rubbed the back of her head. Frank swallowed hard on the gorge that rose in his throat. At the thought of Otto putting his hands on Sarah, he wanted to do murder himself, and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to kick the life out of the man lying bound on the floor. At least he would have the satisfaction of watching him pay the ultimate price for his crimes in New York’s new electric chair.
“Did he…” Frank had to clear his throat and start again. “Did he hurt you in any other way?”
She rubbed her side. “He kicked me, but I don’t think it’s more than a bad bruise.”
Frank was going to take great pleasure in seeing Otto fry. “We’ll get a doctor here to look you over.”
“Nelson,” Mrs. Elsworth said. “go fetch Dr. Pomeroy, will you? We want to make sure Mrs. Brandt is all right.”
“I can’t leave you alone with that killer!” Nelson protested.
But just then they heard the clatter of wagon wheels, and a Black Maria, one of the police wagons, pulled up outside. A moment later, two uniformed officers came in, and Frank directed them to collect Lars Otto and carry him off to the Tombs.
As he stood on the sidewalk, watching the wagon pull away, Frank suddenly realized he still held the lock of Sarah’s hair. He could have dropped it, but he stuffed it discreetly into his pocket before going back inside to send Nelson Elsworth after that damned doctor.
Epilogue
FRANK DIDN’T BOTHER MAKING EXCUSES TO HIMSELF for going to see Sarah Brandt. He owed her a visit, if for no other reason than to tell her the news about Lars Otto. The city streets were shimmering with heat, and Frank stopped on her doorstep to mop his brow before knocking on her door. He noted with approval the new lock and the repairs to the door in the moment before it opened.
“Malloy,” she said the way she always did. She looked pleased to see him, and not at all surprised. He always forgot how her smile seemed to glow.
“Thought I’d come by and see how you were,” he said.
“I’m glad you did,” she said. “It saved me from having to send you a message or brave your mother’s wrath by going to your place. Come in.”
As usual, they sat out in the shade of the back porch. The heat seemed almost bearable here amid the fragrant blossoms. She served him lemonade and cookies she said Mrs. Elsworth had baked. “She’s been fussing over me quite a bit since that evening,” she explained with a smile. “I think she just likes talking about it. She was quite the heroine.”
Frank didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Sarah didn’t have such an intrepid old woman living next door. “Yeah, I guess I’ll have to stop saying insulting things about her.”
“And I’ll have to have more patience with her superstitions. She’s been trying to figure out if she saw an omen of what was going to happen and just didn’t interpret it correctly. She likes to think she sees things that are going to happen, you know.”
“She did all right, even without any warning,” Frank allowed.
“She certainly did.”
They fell silent. Frank was dying to know why she’d wanted to contact him, but he wasn’t going to ask. He cleared his throat. “I wanted to tell you that Otto confessed. They only gave him twenty years, though.”
“You thought he’d get a death sentence?” she asked.
Frank didn’t want to say he’d been hoping so, mainly because of the way the bastard had tried to kill Sarah. “They went easy on him because the girl wasn’t very respectable.”
“That’s outrageous!”
He’d expected her to be angry. “I guess we’re lucky they didn’t decide she deserved to be killed and let him off
