body.
When she’d explained her purpose, he gave her papers to fill out and sign. Then he said, “You better look at her clothes and see if they’re fit to bury her in.”
“They are,” Sarah said, wanting to avoid looking at her old suit again with Emilia’s blood smeared on the back.
“Then you better make sure everything’s still there. Sometimes things disappear around here,” he said kindly. “Some folks think it ain’t much of a crime to steal from the dead.”
Reluctantly, Sarah opened the bag and pulled out each item of clothing. When she pulled out the hat she’d worn for so long, the attendant said, “Might as well take that away. We don’t bury people in hats. Shoes neither, so you can take them, too.”
Sarah didn’t want to take any of it, but she realized someone at the mission could probably use the shoes, at least. She dug them out of the bag and found a hat pin as well. A pretty metal flower adorned the end. She hadn’t donated any hat pins, so it must have come from the mission. The foot-long pin was a bit rusty, but a girl with a new hat wouldn’t mind cleaning it off and using it again. She laid it aside with the shoes and hat.
The attendant wrapped the items in brown paper, and Sarah took them with her. If she hurried, she would be just in time to meet Opal Graves at the mission. On the way, she stopped and bought a meat pie from a street vendor so she wouldn’t have to eat at the mission. No matter what Mrs. Wells said, Sarah just couldn’t bear to use anything that might benefit one of the girls.
When she arrived at the mission, Opal was already there. Sarah knew because her carriage was waiting for her at the curb and causing quite a sensation among the neighborhood children. They kept wanting to climb up and get inside. The driver was having quite a time scaring them away. Sarah found Opal inside, chatting with Mrs. Wells. Sarah greeted them both.
“I was just telling Mrs. Wells how well she did last night. I don’t think anyone who heard her could refuse to support her work here,” Opal said.
“You flatter me, Mrs. Graves,” Mrs. Wells said. “And I assure you, many people refuse to support our work. But the Lord has always provided for us, and I have faith He always will.”
“After last night, He’ll have a lot of help,” Opal said with a smile.
“I’m glad to hear our guests were generous,” Sarah said. “My mother will be happy she was able to help.”
“I was just about to show Mrs. Graves around, Mrs. Brandt. Would you like to accompany us?” Mrs. Wells asked.
“Thank you, but I promised the girls I would talk with them again today, if you don’t mind. They had a lot of questions after our first class.”
“They’re upstairs sewing,” Mrs. Wells said with a knowing smile. “I’m sure they’d be happy for an interruption. After we’ve finished our tour, we’ll all have tea in the parlor.”
Mrs. Wells escorted Opal to tour the downstairs and the yard while Sarah went upstairs. To her surprise, the girls squealed with delight when she walked into the room. She conducted an impromptu class in female health concerns, answering questions that would have shocked most women of her social status. The girls repeatedly told her how grateful they were for her willingness to discuss such sensitive topics. Probably no one else had ever done so with them.
Sarah discreetly ended the discussion when she heard Mrs. Wells bringing Opal up the stairs. Mrs. Wells introduced her guest to them as one of their benefactors and began explaining to Opal the training the girls were receiving. Sarah stepped out into the hallway, and Gina followed her.
“Mrs. Brandt, can I talk to you?” she asked quietly. She looked over her shoulder anxiously, probably checking to see if Maeve was going to stop her from speaking with Sarah. Fortunately, Maeve was busy showing off for their guest.
“Certainly, let’s go back downstairs.”
Gina followed her. As they walked into the parlor, Sarah realized she had left the package she’d brought from the morgue lying on a chair there. She’d have to remember to give it to Mrs. Wells before she left.
“What did you want to talk about?” Sarah asked her when they were alone.
“I did what you told me to do.”
“What was that?” Sarah asked, trying to recall. So much had happened since last night, she was having trouble.
“You wanted to know which one of the girls heard Emilia say she wanted Ugo to see her all dressed up.”
“Oh, yes.” Sarah had completely forgotten. “Who was it?”
“It wasn’t anybody.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean nobody heard her say that. I asked everybody, even Aggie.”
“I thought Aggie doesn’t speak.”
“She don’t, but she can hear. I asked her did she hear Emilia say that, and she shook her head no. Nobody heard her say nothing about Ugo. All she said was she wanted to get a job.”
This was just what Sarah had feared. One of the girls had lied to Mrs. Wells, hoping to throw suspicion onto Ugo. All Sarah needed to do now was find out which girl had invented the lie. She would have to ask Mrs. Wells.
“What’s that?” Gina asked, pointing at the parcel.
Sarah glanced at it. “I brought back the shoes and the hat Emilia was wearing when she died.”
Gina looked at it longingly. “What are you going to do with them?”
Sarah realized that Gina would probably appreciate having Emilia’s things. Perhaps she should consult with Mrs. Wells before making a gift of them, but she remembered what Gina had said last night about Emilia getting all the nice things when she’d been the girl in charge. Maeve would probably receive them now, if Mrs. Wells were making the choice, but Gina had earned a reward for trying to help Sarah.
“Would you like to have them?” she asked Gina.
The girl looked almost reluctant to admit that she did. Finally, she nodded tentatively.
With a smile, Sarah handed the package to her.
Gina glanced apprehensively in the direction of the door, as if afraid someone might come in and stop her, but seeing no one, she quickly tore open the package. Almost reverently, she picked up the hat that Sarah had considered throwing away and set it on her head. Her dark eyes shone with happiness and gratitude. “Maeve’ll be so jealous!” she whispered with glee. Then she kicked off the worn slippers she wore and sat down to put the almost-new boots on her feet.
She was laughing with pleasure now, and when the hat slipped off and fell onto the floor, Sarah laughed, too.
“There’s a hat pin in there, too. Do you know how to use it?”
“Oh, yes,” Gina assured her happily. “All well-bred young ladies know how to use a hat pin!”
She picked up the hat with one hand and located the hat pin with the other. “No wonder Emilia wanted her mother to see her wearing this,” she said as she stuck the hat on her head.
Sarah wasn’t sure she’d heard her correctly. “Her mother?” she asked, but Gina wasn’t paying attention.
She was staring at the pin. “What’s all over it?”
“It’s rusty,” Sarah said. “It will come off if you – ”
“That’s not rust,” Gina said, peering more closely. She ran a finger along the shaft and it came off brown and smooth, not gritty like rust.
Sarah looked more closely, too. In the dim light of the morgue, she hadn’t paid much attention. She’d simply made an assumption, but now, seeing it in the light…
She had a vision of the brown stains on the back of Emilia’s jacket – Sarah’s old jacket. Malloy had said her killer had wiped the blood off his knife – a long, thin-bladed knife – and walked away.
Sarah felt as if the room were tilting, but she forced her hand to move. She snatched the pin out of Gina’s hand. “I’ll get you another one,” she said. Her voice sounded as if it were coming from very far away. Gorge rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down.
“What is it?” Gina asked in alarm. “Your face is all white!”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” Sarah insisted. She snatched up the discarded wrapping paper and quickly wrapped it around the pin.
