“No!” Pia cried, arms outstretched as if she could stop what was happening by sheer force of will. When she caught up to Bernice, she shoved her out of the way, pushing her to the floor, and reached into the stove. But the fire was too hot. The heat seared her skin. She yanked her hand out and watched helplessly as flames enveloped the ledger, the pages curling up, turning to ash, and disappearing before her eyes.
Beside her, Bernice struggled to get up, panting and red-faced.
Furious, Pia grabbed her by the wrist and wrenched her forward, pulling her off balance. She fell again and Pia gripped her arm with both hands, digging her fingers into her skin and refusing to let go. She wasn’t about to let her run.
“You’re not getting away with this,” she said. “And you’re going to tell me what you did with Ollie and Max.” She started to say something else, but a sudden jolt of pain ripped through one side of her head, just above her right eye, like something had burst inside her skull. She let go and fell back on her haunches, suddenly dizzy and nauseous.
Bernice got to her feet and staggered over to the sink, her elbow bleeding, the hem of her nightdress ripped and hanging. When she turned around, lantern light reflected off the knife in her hand. “Get out,” she said. “Now. Or so help me God I’ll use this.”
“Go get help,” Finn said to Rebecca. “Hurry!”
Rebecca started toward the door.
“No, wait,” Pia said. She put one hand on the floor to stop the room from spinning. “We’re not going to need the police.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a second, and as quickly as it had started, the pain and dizziness disappeared.
“What do you mean we don’t need the police?” Finn said. “She’s got a knife!”
Pia straightened and got to her feet, wary eyes fixed on Bernice. “She took my brothers,” she said. “She took a lot of children. And she’s going to pay for what she did, very soon.”
“Is that right?” Bernice laughed, taunting her. “And how do you know that? You don’t have proof.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Pia said. “I know the truth. And you’re dying as we speak.”
“Jaysus, Pia,” Finn said. “What are you doing? We need to get help.”
“No,” Pia said. “Not yet. She’s not going to hurt us.”
“The hell I’m not. If you don’t...” Bernice paused, then coughed abruptly. “We can’t go today.”
Finn gaped at Pia, confused. “What the hell is she talking about?”
Pia held up a hand, telling him to wait. Panic played around the edges of her mind, but she pushed it away. She had to get Bernice to talk before it was too late. And she didn’t have a lot of time. “She doesn’t know,” she said. “She can’t think clearly right now.”
“What do you mean she doesn’t know?” Finn said. “What in the bloody hell is happening?”
Bernice lowered the knife and swayed. A thin sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead and upper lip. She furrowed her brow in confusion, then reached back and grabbed the edge of the sink to steady herself.
“You’re not feeling well, are you?” Pia said. “We’ll get a doctor, but first you have to tell me what you did with my brothers.”
“I’m fine,” Bernice said. “Now get out of here.”
“No, you’re not fine,” Pia said. “You need to go to the hospital.”
Bernice wiped her wrist across her forehead, the knife quivering in her hand. “No, I don’t,” she said. “Just go. Leave me alone. I need to get ready for the party before...” She paused, puzzled by the words coming out of her mouth.
“You need to go to the hospital right now,” Pia said again. “Or you’re going to die.”
She’d felt the same agonizing burst in her head while helping Dr. Hudson before, and had seen similar strange behavior. An older woman had come into his office with the worst headache she’d ever had, hoping to get something for the pain. One minute she made perfect sense, the next she had no idea who or where she was. Dr. Hudson took her to the hospital straightaway but the woman died of a brain hemorrhage later that day. Something similar was happening to Bernice, but at a faster pace.
“No, I’m not,” Bernice said. “I’m just—”
“Getting caught was too much for you,” Pia said. “Something ruptured in your head. I felt it.”
Bernice put a trembling hand to her temple and started to say something else, but her mouth twisted and she dropped the knife, just missing her foot. It fell to the floor, the sharp blade gouging the plank surface before clattering over on its handle. Bernice’s arm went limp and hung at her side, useless. Then she fell to her knees and made a muffled sound, like the grunt of a burrowing animal.
Pia picked up the knife and handed it to Finn. He regarded her with a worried look while Rebecca stood behind him, staring and about to cry. She seemed scared yet fascinated, like she wanted to leave but couldn’t. Pia wanted to explain what was going on, but there wasn’t time.
“Does your head hurt?” she asked Bernice.
Bernice nodded, fear burning in her bloodshot eyes. She grimaced and spittle oozed from one side of her mouth, then she slumped to the floor, curling up on her side.
“Tell me what you did with my brothers and I’ll send Rebecca to get help,” Pia said.
Straining with the effort, Bernice turned her head to gaze up at her, her face knotted with determination. The fight hadn’t left her yet. “I put them on a train,” she mumbled. “An orphan train.”
Pia cursed under her breath. For the first time ever, she prayed Bernice was lying again. Otherwise she’d never find Ollie and Max. “Where was the train going?”
“Don’t remember,” Bernice said. A cruel smile twisted across her face. “It was in the ledger.”
“I don’t believe you,” Pia said.
Bernice clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes shut in agony.
“Tell me where they are,” Pia said. “Or we won’t get a doctor.”
“I’m not... telling you... anything,” Bernice said. “I’m ready... to die. I’ve been... waiting years to be with my son... my precious Wallis.”
Pia went rigid, as if the air had frozen in her lungs. Bernice wanted to die. She wasn’t going to tell her anything. The rush of panic returned, plowing through Pia at full force. How could she frighten someone who had nothing to lose?
“Maybe I should get help,” Rebecca said
Bernice opened her eyes and glared at her. Blood rimmed one lower lid. “No,” she croaked. “I . . . I want... to go.”
Pia didn’t know what to do. If Bernice wanted to die, threatening to let her was pointless. She had to try something else. She shouted over her shoulder at Finn and Rebecca. “Go tell the police a woman needs to go to the hospital right away. Tell them to send for an ambulance!”
“I’ll go,” Finn said. His heavy footsteps pounded across the floor and he hurried out of the apartment.
Pia knelt over Bernice, pushing her face close to hers. “Rebecca saw Ollie and Max with an older couple. Who were they? Your parents? Do they live in this building? Where are the twins? If you don’t tell me, I won’t let you die. Finn went to get the police to take you to the hospital. The doctors will keep you alive, but you’ll never talk or move again. Tell me the truth, or you’re not going to be with your son for a long time.”
“Pia,” Rebecca said in a gentle voice. “You don’t know for sure those babies were your brothers.”
Pia turned and glared at her, pain and frustration burning in her eyes. A miserable clutch of fear settled in her stomach. If Bernice died, all would be lost. She was the only person on earth who knew where to find Ollie and Max. “Yes, I do,” she said. “It was them. It had to be. You said yourself they looked like twins. She took them and she’s going to tell me where they are.” Then she looked back at Bernice, fighting the urge to strangle the last bit of life out of her. But it was too late.
Bernice was already dead.
* * *
When Finn returned w
ith a policeman, Pia and Rebecca were waiting in the foyer, Rebecca sitting on an iron bench with her head down, staring at the floor. Her hair was disheveled and her face was red and streaked with tears. Finn gaped at them, confused. Pia shot him a warning look, signaling for him to play along.
“I’m sorry, Officer,” Pia said. “But it’s a false alarm. She’s feeling much better now, thank goodness.” Glancing down at Rebecca, there was no need to pretend being distraught. Finally finding Bernice and coming so close to learning the truth about her brothers was almost more than she could bear. Her legs felt like water, and her stomach churned with nausea. Maybe she should have played the part of the sick person instead of Rebecca. It wouldn’t have been much of an act. “Isn’t that right, Rebecca?”
Rebecca lifted her head and nodded, pretending to mope. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry for making such a fuss.”
The policeman knelt in front of her, his leather boots creaking. “Are you certain, miss? This young man made it sound quite urgent. I can get you to a hospital right away if you need to go.”
“No, I’m fine, Officer,” Rebecca said. “I was feeling rather light-headed for a few minutes, but I’m better now, really.”
“She’s just getting over childbed fever,” Pia said. “And she’s been having the vapors recently.”
The policeman straightened, his brow furrowed. “I see,” he said. Then he eyed Finn, his chest out, one thumb hooked over his utility belt. “I understand you’re mighty worried about her, son, but next time make sure it’s an emergency before you get the law involved.”
Finn gave him an apologetic nod. “Aye, Officer,” he said. “Sorry to be a bother.”
“Do you all live in this building?” the policeman said to them.
Rebecca started to shake her head at the same time Finn and Pia nodded. Then Rebecca realized what she was doing and nodded too. Pia pushed down a swallow. The air turned thick as sludge. It was only a small lie, but what if the officer read the truth in her eyes? There was a dead woman upstairs. And even though Bernice probably would have died from whatever ruptured in her brain anyway, there was a high chance Pia had something to do with it happening sooner rather than later. And explaining why they were with her when she died but hadn’t told anyone yet would be difficult to say the least. She had no proof Bernice had taken her brothers. Not yet, anyway.
“Well, perhaps you should take your friend back to her apartment so she can rest,” the policeman said to Pia.
“Yes, Officer,” Pia said. “Thank you so much for coming.”
The policeman tipped his hat at them. “No problem,” he said. “Have a good day.” Then he left the building.
After he was gone, Finn gaped at Pia, eyes bulging. “In the name of all that’s holy, what is going on? What happened?”
“Bernice is dead,” Pia whispered.
“Bloody hell,” Finn said. “Did she tell you anything? Did she confess before she—”
“No,” Pia said. “She didn’t say anything.” Thinking about the way Bernice had smiled at her right before she died, the cruel, satisfied smirk on her twisted face, a fresh bolt of fury flashed through Pia. She turned and started up the staircase.
“Where are you going?” Finn said.
“To search her apartment,” Pia said, taking the steps two at a time. Her determination clearly surprised Rebecca as much as it did Finn. Instead of protesting, they followed her up the steps without a word.
Back in Bernice’s apartment, Finn put a blanket over her body, then went into the bedroom to look for clues that the twins had been there. Rebecca explored the parlor while Pia searched the kitchen, gingerly stepping around Bernice’s corpse and trying to ignore the feeling that she might jump up and grab her at any second. Her arms and chest ached from trying to wrestle the ledger away from her, and her back hurt from falling on the davenport. Worst of all, grief and disappointment weighed her down, making every movement seem slow and difficult. The only person who knew what had happened to Ollie and Max was dead. It would take a miracle to find them now. But imagining the worst was easy, and she wasn’t willing to give up yet.
After examining every nook and cranny, combing through every notebook and letter and greeting card, they found nothing—no paperwork, no children’s clothes, no toys, no photographs. When they were finished searching, Finn lifted the blanket off Bernice and put it back in the bedroom. Pia stared at her crumpled body, wondering if she was, at long last, where she yearned to be—in heaven with her son. It didn’t seem fair or likely, given what she’d done, but Pia wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.
After Finn came out of the bedroom, they left the apartment and stood in the hallway trying to figure out what to do next.
“We need to tell someone she’s in there,” Finn said.
“We will,” Pia said. “But not yet. I’m not ready to give up looking for clues. Someone in this building had to know her. Someone had to see the twins.”
“What are we going to say happened to her?” Rebecca said.
“We’ll say we stopped in for a visit and she collapsed,” Pia said. “Which is the truth. But when we go to the police, we have to make sure we don’t talk to the same officer Finn brought here earlier.” She started toward the neighbor’s door, gesturing for them to come too.
“I can’t,” Rebecca said. “I have to go back to St. Vincent’s. I’m sorry but I’ll get locked out if I’m not back by curfew.”
“That’s all right,” Pia said. “Thank you for helping me get this far.”
“You’re welcome,” Rebecca said. “To tell you the truth, I really wanted her to get arrested so she could pay for everything she’s done.”
“Me too,” Pia said.
“Will you let me know if you find your brothers?”
Pia nodded. “Of course.”
Rebecca gave them a weak wave and started down the stairs, worry and something that looked like fear lining her features. When she was gone, Pia started toward the apartment door next to Bernice’s.
“Wait,” Finn said. “I have to ask ye something.”
She turned to face him. “Now?”
He nodded. “I wanted to wait ’til we were alone.”
“What is it?”
“When we were with Bernice. What did you mean when you said you felt something break inside her head?”
Pia sighed. She hadn’t thought about him hearing that. It was no wonder he was confused, and eventually she’d explain it to him, but not here, not now. Her nerves wouldn’t allow it. “I’ll tell you later, all right? I promise.”
“Aye. Sure.”
She turned and knocked on the neighbor’s door.
“What are ye going to say?” he said. “You can’t tell them what happened.”
“I’m not going to,” Pia said. “But we didn’t do anything wrong. She was going to die, anyway. We probably made it happen sooner by upsetting her, but we didn’t do it on purpose. We didn’t know.”
“But we could have helped her,” he said. “Instead we let it happen. We could have gotten someone sooner.”
“I know,” she said. “And that’s my fault. But I honestly don’t think it would have made any difference. It happened too fast. Besides, you heard what she said. She wanted to be with her son.” Blinking back tears of misery and frustration, she kept her eyes straight ahead and knocked on the door. She had failed at everything, from keeping her brothers safe to making Bernice pay for what she’d done. And now Finn probably thought she was crazy. And heartless.
“Are you all right, lass?” he said, his voice tender.
She nodded, clenching her jaw.
Behind the door, a male voice shouted something she didn’t understand. Footsteps got closer, the lock and handle shook, and the door opened. An elderly man with a gray mustache as thick as a scrub brush stood looking at them, one crusty-looking hand resting on the doorframe. The heavy smell of pipe tobacco and fried onions wafted out from behind him into the hall. He eyed them with
suspicion through thick, black-framed glasses.
“Yes?” he said.
“We’re sorry to disturb you,” Pia said. “But we’re looking for two missing children. They’re little boys, about six years old.”
“How can I help?” the man said.
“May I ask you a few questions?” Pia said.
The man looked behind her, his dark eyes scanning the length of the hall. “I guess so,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said. “First, how well did you... do you know your neighbor?”
“Which one?” the man said.
Pia and Finn answered at the same time. “Nurse Wallis,” Pia said. “Bernice Groves,” said Finn.
Pia glanced nervously at Finn, twisting the sides of her skirt around her fingers, then tried again. “The nurse,” she said. “How well do you know the nurse next door?”
The man pushed his glasses back on his nose, furrowing his brow. “What’s this about? I thought I heard shouting coming from her apartment earlier. Is everything all right?”
Pia weighed her words. Surely this man didn’t suspect his neighbor of anything criminal. And what if they were friends?
“May I ask how long you’ve lived in this building?” she said.
“Since my wife and I married forty years ago,” the man said. “But what has that got to do with—”
Pia swallowed. He must have seen Ollie and Max at one point or another. “Do you remember your neighbor, the nurse, ever having two little boys? It would have been around five or six years ago, when they were babies.”
The man shook his head, then moved his crusty hand from the doorframe to the door, closing it just the slightest bit. Someone else might not have noticed, but Pia did. Her heart thumped hard in her chest. He knew something.
“I don’t recall,” the man said. “Why don’t you go over there and ask her yourself?”
The Orphan Collector Page 40