owner was rant-ing about his foreman not showing up, but Frank was able to calm him with a story about Keith being in an accident.
The lie was like gall in his throat, but he thought about Mrs. Keith and the children and swallowed it down.
“I need to talk to one of your other girls,” Frank added at the end of his explanation. Not waiting for permission, he strode down the center aisle to where Nainsi’s other friends sat. He found the one he remembered being so talkative the last time he’d been here. He took her by the arm and jerked her out of her chair.
“I didn’t do nothing!” she protested as Frank roughly conducted her to the back of the room.
“What happened to Brigit last night?” he asked softly, so no one would overhear.
The girl’s eyes grew large. “She disappeared! We was all at the dance house like always, and then she and Mr. Keith was both just gone. We thought . . .”
“Well, don’t think it anymore. I put Keith in jail. Brigit must’ve gotten scared and run. Where would she go?”
The girl shrugged. “Home, I guess. She didn’t come to none of us, and she’s got no place else.”
He was just about to let her go when he remembered one more thing. “When did you first meet Antonio?”
She looked at him in surprise at this sudden change of subject. “I don’t know. Right before they got married, I guess. She was talking about him for so long, we all thought she made him up. Then she just shows up with him one night and says they’re getting married.”
He did let her go then, and she scurried back to her seat, casting an apprehensive glance at the owner before putting her head down and starting up her sewing machine again.
With a weary sigh, Frank started back downtown to the tenement where Brigit lived. He didn’t want to let Keith go if there was any chance he might’ve killed Nainsi, so he wanted to hear what Brigit had to say before he cleared him completely.
The building was still as dark and dreary as he remembered. He wasn’t sure which flat was Brigit’s, so he had to knock on a few doors before a plump young woman holding a screaming baby directed him to the third floor. According to the neighbor, Brigit lived with her mother and several younger brothers. Frank knew they’d rely on her meager in-come to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads.
She wouldn’t have missed work without a good reason.
Even before he reached the landing, he could hear the sobs. Someone was crying as if her heart would break. Frank pounded on the door, and the weeping ceased abruptly.
“Who’s there?” a female voice called hoarsely.
“Police,” he replied in his official voice. “Open the door or I’ll break it down.”
He heard a little cry of distress, but after a moment, the lock turned and the door opened a crack. Frank pushed it wide, sending Brigit stumbling back into the room.
“What do you want?” she asked fearfully. “Where’s Dickie?”
“Who’s Dickie?”
“Richard . . . Mr. Keith,” she corrected herself. Her eyes were swollen nearly shut, her face blotchy and tear- streaked.
“You took him, and he didn’t come back. What did you do to him?”
“He’s in jail.”
She cried out in dismay. “Why? He didn’t do anything!”
“I’ll be the judge of that, and this time you’ll tell me the truth.”
“I never lied!”
“Oh, I think you did, Brigit. What happened the night you found out that Nainsi had her baby?”
“What do you mean?” She seemed to be trembling. That was good. Terrified people seldom had the wit to make things up.
“What did you do after Mrs. O’Hara told you Nainsi’s baby was born?”
“I . . . I went out.”
“To the dance house where I saw you last night.”
She nodded, relieved. “That’s right. To see my friends.”
“Maybe you went to see Dickie,” he suggested.
She swallowed. “No, I . . . I didn’t know he’d be there, but . . . but he was.”
“I said I wanted the truth,” he reminded her, taking a step closer.
Her breath caught in her throat. “He goes there a lot!”
she admitted quickly. “He wanted to know when the baby was born, so I went there to find him.”
“What did you tell him?” Frank asked, keeping his voice even and icy cold.
“Just that it had been born, and it was a boy.”
“What else?”
She laid a hand on her heart, as if to quiet it. Frank figured it was pounding like a trip-hammer. “That . . . that they were all mad at Nainsi, because they didn’t think Antonio was the father.”
“What did Dickie say to that?” Frank asked, the contempt in his voice thick.
“Nothing!” she claimed. “He just . . . he just wanted to know, that’s all.”
“Why would he even care about a thing like that?” Frank asked, watching her face carefully.
“I don’t know! Because she worked for him, I guess,” she tried. “He was just . . . interested.”
“Oh, he was interested all right. He wanted to know how long it had been since he’d slept with her until her baby came. He wanted to know if it was his.”
“No!” she cried fiercely. “It couldn’t have been his!”
“Why not?” Frank asked with interest.
“Because he doesn’t—” She caught herself, too embarrassed to speak of such things to a stranger.
“I know he doesn’t,” Frank assured her. “He’s usually real careful, but not with Nainsi. He had a little slip with Nainsi, you see. That’s why he wanted to know when her baby was born, so he’d know if it was his.”
“He didn’t love her,” Brigit insisted. “He didn’t love any of them!”
“Does he love you?” Frank asked curiously.
“Yes, he does!” Her swollen eyes glowed with pride.
“He’s going to marry me, too.”
Frank couldn’t help the wave of pity he felt for her.
“Don’t you know he’s already married?”
“His wife’s real sick, though,” she informed him. “She’s going to die, and then we’ll be married.”
This was all very interesting, but not getting him any closer to solving Nainsi’s murder. Frank gave himself a little shake. “Congratulations,” he said sarcastically. “Meantime, tell me the rest of what happened the night the baby was born.”
“Nothing happened!”
He raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Does that mean you spoke to him, and then you all went straight home to bed?”
“No, we . . . we just . . . We danced a little. Dickie wasn’t real happy that night. He kept staring off at nothing, like he was thinking about something real hard. I know he was thinking about her.”
“Nainsi?”
“No, his wife,” she corrected him testily. “Why would he think about Nainsi?”
“Because he was afraid she’d just had his baby, and the Ruoccos were going to throw her out, and she was going to end up on his doorstep asking for money.”
Brigit didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but she was thoroughly frightened. “Even Nainsi wouldn’t be that stupid!”
“Wouldn’t she? Well, it doesn’t matter now because she’s dead. What I want to know is how long did Dickie stay with you?”
“As long as he always does. He has to be home by midnight, so he left a little before. He checks his pocket watch all the time to make sure he’s not late. He doesn’t want to worry her. She’s sick, like I said.”
“He’s very considerate.”
“Yes, he is.”
