His voice turned pleading, almost wheedling. “He did not come home last night. He was involved with a rough element, you know that, Miss Donato, Mrs. Stannert. What if it is him? I was hoping that you could ask one of the others, someone who is not working today and who comes by, to go to the police, or maybe Nico. I cannot.”
Inez closed her eyes against his hopeful gaze, considering. Nico was as busy as Otto, if not more so, and his interactions with Jamie were minimal, as far as she knew. As for the others, she doubted they would do any better than Nico in determining whether a disfigured corpse was Jamie Monroe or not. On the other hand, she herself was no stranger to viewing the effects violence could have upon a human being, although not recently, not since moving to San Francisco. Could she perhaps identify him? Inez thought of his hands, beautifully proportioned with long, thin fingers, made for the keyboard. Possibly.
She opened her eyes, decision made. “I will take care of this, Mr. Klein. Please do not worry yourself further about it.”
Otto let out a huge breath, obviously relieved. “Thank you, Frau Stannert. If by the day after tomorrow, no one has gone to view him, I will try. But I hope someone will be able to provide an answer before then.” He picked up his hat from the table and turned to Carmella, still in the chair. Only her hands, which alternately gripped and released the fine fabric of her overskirt, gave any indication she was not made of stone.
He cleared his throat. “I apologize, Fraulein Donato, for causing you distress. I hope it is not Jamie Monroe.” He tamped his hat down, gathered his case, and with a little bow, let himself out the back door.
As soon as he left, Carmella said, “I will go.” Her voice was as calm as if someone had asked her to pick up bread at the corner bakery.
Inez stared at her. “Carmella, your brother would be horrified to hear you say that.”
“He will not hear because I will not tell him. I must do this. And if I must do it alone, I will.”
Inez sat down across the table from the young woman and took in her aspect. Lips compressed, jaw set, chin high. Then, all of a sudden, Carmella crumpled.
She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and buried her face in it. Her shoulders shook noiselessly. Stifling a sigh, Inez pulled her chair around to sit at her side and wait. After several minutes, Carmella raised her head, patting her eyes carefully. “My eyes will be red. I should leave soon, I do not want Nico to see me like this.” She examined the bit of dampened embroidered linen. “Such a useless piece of cloth. Worthless, just for show. Oh, Jamie. Is it him? If so, how could I not know? Today we were to—” She pulled her lips inward, biting on them.
Inez rested an elbow on the table. “I am sorry you were here for all of this. Please, keep in mind we know nothing for certain at present. So, am I correct in guessing that your concern is more than the concern for an acquaintance, no matter how dear?” She pulled out her own, plain handkerchief and offered it, adding gently, “You have brought me into this, Carmella. I think you should tell me what you are struggling to hold inside, if only so I may forestall your brother’s questions.”
Carmella sat silent, her knuckles turning white around the crumpled bit of linen. She finally tucked it back up her sleeve and accepted Inez’s utilitarian handkerchief. “We are engaged.” She said it so faintly that Inez frowned, not certain she heard correctly.
“We plan to tell Nico,” said Carmella quickly, perhaps misinterpreting the frown for displeasure. “We were waiting for Jamie to get a steady job, a good position, so he could hold his head high and ask for Nico’s blessing. He had just found one that, along with his night job, would be enough. He was to start today.”
“Where?” asked Inez, already wondering if this new job could have anything to do with his absence. Or his death, if it was indeed Jamie lying in a morgue somewhere.
“I don’t know.” She smiled, just a little. “He teased me about it. He could see how excited I was, how happy I was for him. For us. He refused to say, although I begged him. He said he would see how it went, and if it went well, he would tell me.” The smile disappeared. “I hoped he could talk to Nico this week. Maybe even today.”
Inez found it hard to believe Carmella and Jamie could have been so naïve as to think that simply nailing down a good-paying, respectable position would bring acceptance from Nico. Even being hired by the eminent Baldwin’s Academy of Music would not guarantee acceptance of Jamie as a serious suitor for Carmella’s hand. And there were other considerations. Inez suspected Jamie of living hand-to-mouth, given the sad state of his suits, and now there was Otto’s claim that Jamie had not been contributing to the rent. Nico was understanding of the penniless state of musicians new to town and struggling. But not so understanding as to embrace one into the family. Too, Nico would not be pleased that Jamie was entangled in trying to organize a professional musicians union and was hobnobbing with labor activists.
“And what did
