Mina had already ordered hers.
“I could hardly credit it when Alfred told me you were the one who found poor Alicia,” Mina said, her pale blue eyes properly troubled and confused.
“I didn’t find her,” Sarah said. “In fact, I only saw her for a moment the other night, at the house where she’d been living. I was there to deliver a baby and-”
“Then it’s true?” Mina exclaimed, glancing down at the hand in which she still clutched her handkerchief. Sarah saw Mina also held the business card she’d given to Alfred downstairs, the one that proclaimed her profession. “You’re a
She said it as if being a midwife was one step lower than being a grave robber, but Sarah chose not to be offended. Sometimes, she mused, good breeding was a curse. “Yes, I am.”
“How awful for you! I had no idea! I thought you were married.” She glanced at the card again. “Your name is different.”
“I’m a widow,” Sarah said, deciding not to mention that she’d probably be delivering babies even if Tom were still alive to support her. Mina would never understand such a thing, and neither would any other woman of her class.
“But that’s still no reason for you to have a… a
And just as surely, Mina couldn’t imagine why he wasn’t doing so. But if she was looking for gossip, Sarah wasn’t going to oblige her. She hadn’t come here to talk about herself anyway.
“I was a little surprised to find you still at home,” she said, deftly changing the subject and looking pointedly around at the lavishly decorated chamber which was obviously still Mina’s permanent abode. Apparently, Mina had found the new Moorish style of decorating to her liking. The place was furnished the way Sarah imagined a Pharaoh’s tomb might be. Or perhaps a Pharaoh’s harem, if Pharaohs had harems. “I was certain you’d be married yourself by now and living elsewhere.”
Sarah had just returned her old friend’s insult in kind, since finding one’s self an old maid was perhaps even more humiliating than having to support one’s self with a “trade.” She thought she caught a glimpse of anger in Mina’s pale eyes, sort of like the spark of stone striking flint, but only just that one flash. It was gone as quickly as a spark, and Mina managed to dredge up a pitying look.
“It was a sacrifice, as I’m sure you understand, but I simply couldn’t marry and leave Father alone. You know how Mother was when we were girls, and she’s only gotten worse through the years. Her mind is… well, she hasn’t been herself for years, and her health has failed dreadfully as a result. Then Alicia… What can I say? She was always such a trial to us, and now-” She quickly covered her mouth with her handkerchief, letting Sarah’s card fall to the floor as she apparently fought for control of her emotions.
Sarah couldn’t help wondering what those emotions were. As she recalled, Mina had never been particularly fond of Alicia. She’d been almost seventeen when the girl was born and positively mortified at this evidence of her parents’ sexuality. Mina had left school when word got around, refusing even to discuss the rumors of her mother’s pregnancy, although her pain-and probably her jealousy-had been patently obvious. She hadn’t shown her face at a single social event for months before Alicia was born, and for a long time afterward had been unwilling even to acknowledge the child’s existence. Apparently, time hadn’t reconciled her to her younger sister.
After a moment, Mina was able to speak again, and when she did, she forced a pained smile and said, “Where are my manners? I haven’t even offered you a chair.”
She looked around, as if searching for one, and Sarah took it upon herself to pull up a stool so she could remain near enough to read every nuance of Mina’s expressions. The stool’s seat was upholstered with gold brocade and rested on a base made entirely of a gilt sphinx with grotesquely large and naked breasts. She thought even a Pharaoh’s harem would have rejected such a piece.
When she was seated, she said, “I can’t help wondering what Alicia was doing in that boardinghouse.”
Mina collapsed back against the cushions as if merely considering the issue was more than she could endure, and she lifted her hand to her forehead in the classic “tragic heroine” pose. Sarah rolled her eyes, but of course Mina didn’t notice.
“We had no idea she was there, of course. We had no idea where she was at all! She was always unstable, but she’d begun behaving even more strangely these past few months. She’d taken to having hysterics over every little thing and weeping for no reason whatever. Finally, we had to send her to Greentree. That’s our country home on the bay. We thought the country air might be good for her, and of course, the solitude. But then she ran away. One morning the servants went to waken her, and she was gone, as if she’d disappeared. We’ve feared the worst for weeks now. How could we not? A young girl alone in the world with no one to protect her, and Alicia was even more helpless than most. She was a wicked, evil girl to frighten us all like that, but then, she’s always been hopelessly spoiled. Mother ruined her, and now we all must pay the price of the scandal she’s brought down on us.”
Sarah would have thought the family would be more aware of their loss of a daughter than their loss of reputation because of the circumstances of her death, but Sarah had also not lived among the socially prominent in quite a while. She’d almost forgotten how callous and self-centered they could be. And she knew only too well how unforgiving a family could be when one of their members broke society’s rigid code of conduct.
But she was wasting her time in judging the VanDamms, time that could be better spent finding clues that would lead to Alicia’s killer. “Could someone have helped her run away?” Sarah asked, aware that she was asking the kind of questions the police detective should have. Malloy wouldn’t thank her for interfering, but if she found out something useful, she wouldn’t worry about that. “She couldn’t have managed it on her own, could she?”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Mina said coldly. “She was cunning enough to take her jewelry with her, probably to sell it so she would have money to live on. Heaven knows, she wouldn’t have had any other means of support. So obviously, she planned the whole thing.”
“But how would she have known how and where to sell it without being recognized?” Sarah wondered aloud, remembering how naive she herself had been at that age.
“I’m sure I have no idea,” Mina snapped. “Alicia was very secretive, and she certainly never confided in me. If she had, I might have been able to stop her from making our family a laughingstock. But you saw her the night before she died. Perhaps she said something to you, something that would explain her behavior.”
This time Sarah could not mistake the calculating gleam in Mina’s eyes. Sarah wasn’t the only one interested in the circumstances of Alicia’s death. Mina wanted every scrap of information Sarah could give her about her sister, and she wanted it now.
“I only saw her for a moment. We didn’t really speak at all,” Sarah admitted. Was Mina relieved or annoyed? Sarah couldn’t be sure. “I didn’t even know who she was then, except that she looked so much like you-like the way I remembered you when we were girls-that I actually called her Mina. That seemed to frighten her, but I suppose that’s because she was afraid of being found out.”
“Of course she was, the stupid little baggage!” Mina said angrily. “She was afraid we’d bring her back to the bosom of her family where she was doted upon and pampered. Where her every wish was instantly granted, and where she never had to turn her hand except to feed herself.”
“But something must have driven her away,” Sarah prompted, recalling her own sister and how she, too, had run away from much the same situation. “Perhaps there was a young man-”
“What on earth makes you think that?” Mina demanded, but then she remembered. “Oh, because of Maggie,” she said knowingly, instantly tearing open old wounds that Sarah had thought long healed. “Well, Alicia wasn’t a bit like
Sarah bit back the urge to defend the two girls. Maggie was past caring, just as Alicia was. Still, she couldn’t leave Mina basking in her self-righteousness, especially not if enlightening her might help find Alicia’s killer.
Trying to pretend she took no pleasure in hurting Mina in return, Sarah said, “I think you must be mistaken about your sister, Mina. She most certainly knew at least one young man. You see, I’m fairly certain she was with child.”
“Believe me, it gives me no pleasure to shame her like this, but I thought you should know. Your father can
