Murder in the Bowery

by Victoria Thompson

  “Or a lady friend. Black Jack’s got quite a reputation when it comes to the ladies.”

  “And when he wasn’t using the flat, a newsie might watch it for him.”

  Frank smiled. “Let’s ask Freddie all about it when we find him tomorrow.”

  * * *

  The next afternoon, Frank and Gino chose to wait for Raven on the corner, so as to escape the notice of the bouncer at the Devil’s Den. A few bums approached them for a handout, but in general, Frank’s practiced glare kept them away.

  They spotted the boy trudging down Chrystie Street, shoulders hunched, his dark head swiveling this way and that, obviously looking for them. They waited until he stopped in front of the saloon before they stepped out, but before they had gone more than a few paces to meet him, the bouncer emerged from the saloon and spoke to the boy.

  Frank and Gino stopped dead, waiting to see how the boy reacted. He hadn’t spotted them yet, and if he felt threatened, he might run. But he merely looked up and replied to whatever the bouncer had said. The bouncer nodded and retreated back into the saloon, leaving Raven alone on the sidewalk. This time when he turned his head, he saw them.

  Gino waved, and the boy came running.

  “I was afraid you wasn’t gonna show.”

  “Did you find Freddie?” Gino asked.

  “Yeah, but . . .”

  “But what?” Frank asked.

  “He’s a little nervous. He don’t know why you’re trying to find him.”

  “Did you tell him what we said about his brother?”

  Raven glared up at them indignantly. “Yeah, but he don’t have no rich brother what would hire no detective to find him.”

  Frank and Gino exchanged a glance. “Did he agree to see us anyway?” Frank asked.

  “I told him he better because I could really use five dollars, and he said he’d do it if I split it with him.”

  Frank grinned at that. “If you take us to see him, you’ll both get a fiver.”

  Raven’s dark eyes gleamed. “We will?”

  “You sure will,” Gino confirmed.

  “All right, I’ll take you to him, but he don’t want nobody to know where he’s staying.”

  “Doesn’t he usually stay at the Den?” Frank asked.

  “How’d you know that?” Raven asked in alarm.

  “Everybody knows that,” Frank lied.

  That placated him a bit. “He ain’t staying there now, though. Something happened.”

  “What?” Gino asked.

  “He wouldn’t say, but he can’t stay there right now.”

  “Then where is he?”

  “I’ll take you to him, if you still want to see him.”

  “Oh, we do,” Frank said, holding out his hand in invitation.

  Raven nodded and took off up Chrystie Street with Frank and Gino in his wake. Frank glanced back to see the bouncer watching them from the saloon doorway.

  The boy led them down side streets and stinking back alleys for about ten minutes until they came to a ramshackle structure leaning precariously against the back of a rear tenement building. Rear tenements were the worst housing in the city, constructed behind the ordinary tenements on any strip of vacant land available. They got neither sunlight nor air, even on the best of days, but the poorest of the poor had no other choice if they wanted a roof over their heads. Orphaned newsboys were even poorer than the poorest, however, so they constructed their own dwellings out of scraps of wood and tin and whatever else they could scavenge in a city where people regularly picked through the garbage in hopes of finding something of worth.

  They were expected, and a boy had already emerged from the hovel, pushing aside a filthy, ragged piece of fabric that served as the door.

  He looked them up and down the way the bouncer had, although his glare wasn’t nearly as fearsome. He stood almost five feet tall, rail thin with a smattering of freckles across his nose and sandy hair falling into his eyes. His pants reached only to mid-calf above his bare feet, evidence of a recent growth spurt. He looked to be the right age, at least, and there could be no question about his mangled foot. A good portion of it was missing, along with three of the toes. “Are you the private detectives?” he asked.

  “That’s right. I’m Frank Malloy, and this is Gino Donatelli.” Frank handed the boy one of his cards. He purposely chose one of the engraved ones to impress him as much as possible.

  “Why’re you looking for me?”

  “Like we told Raven,” Frank said. “Your older brother Will is looking for you.”

  Something flickered across the boy’s face, but too quickly for Frank to read the emotion. “Will?”

  “That’s right. He told us how you two went out West on the Orphan Train and got separated. He wants you to know that he got placed with a storekeeper who died and left him the store. He’s well-off now, and he wants you to come live with him out in Minnesota.”

  “To come and live with him?” the boy echoed doubtfully. Frank tried to judge the boy’s reaction to the story—was it the truth or the outlandish tale they suspected? But the boy gave nothing away.

  “That’s right,” Frank said. “He didn’t know you’d come back to New York until he went looking for you, so he hired us to find you.”

  “Did he hire you himself?”

  “Yes. He came to the city to look for you, but then he realized he’d never be able to find you without help.”

  “You said you’d give us each a fiver if I found him for you,” Raven reminded them impatiently.

  Freddie shot him a black look, but instantly returned his gaze to Frank and Gino. “Will, huh? I thought it was about the girl.”

  “What girl?” Frank asked.

  “Nothing. Did you tell him where I am?”

  “No, because we didn’t know until just now,” Frank said.

  “But you’re going to tell him, ain’t you?”

  “Not if you don’t want us to.”

  “But he’s paying you, so you’ll tell him,” Freddie said reasonably.

  “Look, Freddie—”

  “It’s Two Toes.”

  “Two Toes,” Frank said agreeably. “If there’s some reason you don’t want this Will to find you, just tell us. We won’t tell him anything at all.”

  “And if you’re in some kind of trouble,” Gino said, “we can help.”

  “I ain’t in no trouble, and I don’t need any help,” Freddie said.

  “What about this Will fellow?” Frank insisted. “Raven said he didn’t think you had a brother.”

  Freddie sent Raven another black look. “He don’t know nothing about me.”

  “Then is Will your brother or not?” Gino asked, and Frank winced. Gino hadn’t yet learned the importance of patience.

  Because that wasn’t the important question. The important question was whether Freddie wanted to see Will, brother or not.

  Freddie glared up at them both. “That ain’t any of your business.”

  Before Frank could even think of a reply, Freddie was gone, darting away into the dark alleys that had no name. Gino started after him, but returned almost instantly. “He crawled through a hole in the fence, and there was no way I could get through.”

  “You said you’d give me a fiver,” Raven reminded him petulantly.

  Frank dug a greenback out of his pocket and handed it to the boy. “Any idea where he went?”

  Raven shrugged and shook his head, and then he was gone, too, off in another direction. Gino made no attempt to chase him.

  “Now I’m more confused than ever,” Gino said. “Is Will his brother or not?”

  “I don’t know, but whether he is or isn’t, I don’t think Freddie wants to see him.”

  “Two Toes,” Gino corrected him.

  “Right, Two Toes. A hard-earned nic
kname, to be sure.”

  “Poor kid, although it doesn’t seem to slow him down much.”

  Frank sighed and headed back the way they’d come, hoping they didn’t get lost.

  Gino followed. “What do we do now?”

  “Will is supposed to pay us a visit this afternoon, isn’t he?”

  “That’s what he said, although now that I think about it, why couldn’t he just give us the name of his hotel or something so we could contact him when we had news?”

  “He said he didn’t want to waste more money on a hotel and was going to try to find a rooming house, so he’d just come to us. It sounded true at the time, but now I’m wondering if he just didn’t want us to have a way to find him.”

  “Nothing about this case is adding up. Seems like the more we learn, the less we know.”

  “They’re all like that, Gino. You just never noticed it before.”

  * * *

  Will Bert arrived as scheduled at four o’clock that afternoon. He greeted Frank with an expectant smile when Gino escorted him into Frank’s office. “Have you found him yet?”

  “Have a seat, Mr. Bert.”

  Bert’s smile flickered a bit, but he sat down and waited expectantly.

  “I’ve asked my partner to sit in. He’s been assisting me with the case,” Frank explained as Gino took a seat in the corner of the office. He’d be making notes, sitting out of Bert’s line of sight so hopefully, Bert would forget he was there.

  “So you haven’t found the boy?” Bert asked, obviously puzzled.

  “We found him.”

  Bert perked up considerably at this. “Where is he, then? Is he here?” He looked around as if expecting Frank to produce him out of thin air.

  “I said we found him. And we talked to him. The thing is, he didn’t seem nearly as interested in seeing you as you are to see him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I told him about your good fortune and how you wanted to give him a home.”

  Bert’s smile was completely gone now. He almost looked wary. “And what did he say?”

  “Not much. He didn’t act very happy to get news of you, and when we mentioned you, he ran away.”

  Bert scratched his head and frowned as he considered this information. “I should’ve known he’d be mad. He blamed me, you see. He blamed me for us being separated, that is. Maybe he blames me because he got sent back, too. He’d know I wasn’t sent back, I guess. I thought he’d be happy I was looking for him, but he probably doesn’t like the idea of going to Minnesota again.”

  Frank leaned back and studied Bert for a long moment. “Did you know the Children’s Aid Society doesn’t have any record that you and your brother went out on the Orphan Train?”

  Bert didn’t look particularly concerned. “They don’t?”

  “No, and they keep pretty careful records of all the children.”

  “That’s strange. How’d you happen to find that out?”

  “I checked with them to see if Freddie had been sent out again after he came back from Minnesota. There’s no use looking for him here if he’s in Texas or someplace.”

  “I didn’t think of that. I guess that’s why I’m not a detective.” Bert smiled his winning smile. Frank figured it had gotten him out of trouble a time or two, but it wasn’t working today.

  “In fact,” Frank said, “Freddie’s friend said he didn’t even know Freddie had a brother.”

  Bert was instantly wary again. “What friend was that?”

  “A newsie. We’ve been asking around, and this boy knew Freddie.”

  “And he’s the one who told you where he was?”

  “That’s right. We also found out Freddie’s been living in Black Jack Robinson’s saloon in the Bowery.”

  “Who’s that?” Bert asked, but Frank had seen the momentary shock of recognition at the name.

  “He’s one of the biggest gangsters in the city.”

  Bert feigned amazement, and not very well. “That’s terrible! I need to get Freddie away from here as soon as possible. Can you tell me where you saw him? I’ll go down there myself. I know he’s mad at me, but I’m sure I can make it up to him if I can talk to him for a minute or two. Just tell me where he is.”

  “That’s just it,” Frank said. “The place where he met us was down some alley. His friend set it up, but that’s not where you’ll find him. After we scared him, he’ll probably never go back there again.”

  It was an exaggeration, of course. Frank was pretty sure Freddie was living in that shack with Raven, or at least he had been.

  “Maybe I can find this friend, then. I can convince him I only want to help Freddie. What’s his name?”

  But Frank had no intention of getting poor little Raven mixed up in all this. “I don’t know. The boys never call each other by their real names. And you don’t have to worry about this anyway. You hired us to help, and we’re not finished yet. Give us a few more days, and we’ll see if we can’t change Freddie’s mind.”

  “I thought you said he ran away,” Bert said doubtfully.

  “He did, but you know how boys are. We know he’s around, and we know he’s connected with Black Jack Robinson, and—”

  “Don’t get him involved!”

  Now, that was an interesting response from someone who claimed to never have heard of Robinson. “Why not?”

  Bert made a visible effort to collect himself. “You said he’s a gangster. He might do something to Freddie.”

  “I got the idea Freddie is his pet or something.”

  “Oh well, but that can’t be safe. For you, I mean. To go bothering a big gangster.”

  “Don’t worry about us. Let us take care of this for you, Mr. Bert.”

  Bert nodded miserably. He’d apparently thought Frank would tell him how to find Freddie and then be finished. This did not seem to be what he’d planned at all. “Just let me know when you’ve got him.”

  “And how will I do that? You haven’t told me where you’re staying.”

  “Oh yeah, well, I’m still trying to find a place. How about if I check back with you tomorrow at this time?”

  When Gino had shown Bert out, he returned to Frank’s office. “That was strange.”

  “Yes, it was. It seems like he really doesn’t want us to keep trying to find the boy.”

  “But he kept trying to get information out of you so he could find him himself. Maybe he really thinks the boy will be more willing to go with him than with us.”

  “Or maybe he knows the boy will never go with us if we’re taking him to Will.”

  Gino nodded. “I think he knew perfectly well who Black Jack Robinson was, too.”

  “You couldn’t see his face. He definitely does.”

  “But why would he pretend he didn’t?”

  “Because he’s supposedly been living in Minnesota for years. I’ve got a very bad feeling about this. Freddie’s in some kind of trouble, and he knows it, so that’s why he’s hiding.”

  “And this Will fellow is part of it, so Freddie is hiding from him.”

  “He might be hiding from more than one person, too. Remember Raven said something happened?”

  “That’s right. And Freddie mentioned a girl. Do you think that’s part of this?”

  “Maybe, but it could just as easily be something else. We won’t know for sure until we talk to Freddie again. We just have to make sure we find him before this Will fellow does.”

  “Do you think we should take one of the Bowery tours?” Gino asked.

  Frank shook his head. “I don’t know how that would help, and don’t get any ideas. There’s nothing down there you need to know any more about.”

  Gino shrugged innocently. “It was just a thought.”

  “Well, stop thinking. We’ll give Freddie the nig
ht to think things over, and then we’ll go looking for him again tomorrow. At least we know where to start now.”

  “With Black Jack Robinson?” Gino teased.

  “Maybe. If we have to. But I’m thinking Raven will be helpful.”

  “I hope so,” Gino said. “I didn’t like the way that bouncer looked at us.”

  * * *

  “We haven’t seen much of Gino lately,” Sarah remarked at breakfast the next morning. Maeve had taken Catherine and Brian upstairs after their own breakfast, and Frank’s mother had eaten much earlier and retired to her own rooms.

  Malloy didn’t take the hint. In fact, he didn’t even look up from the newspaper he was reading. “I see Gino every day.”

  “Yes, but we don’t.” She waited again for him to look up.

  He didn’t bother. “You mean Maeve doesn’t.”

  She snatched the newspaper away from him and tried to look angry. Apparently, she fell a little short because he just laughed. “Do you really think those two need a matchmaker?”

  “Of course not. All they need is a little time together.”

  “All right. I’ll invite him for dinner tonight. Will that do?”

  “For a start.”

  “Can I have my newspaper back, please?”

  She glanced at it. “What’s this?”

  “It’s the Times. I know, it’s not up to my usual standards, but it was the only one Hattie could find this morning.”

  “You sent Hattie out to find you a newspaper?” Their maid was entirely too accommodating.

  “She offered because she knows how much I enjoy reading it in the morning. The boys from the World and the Journal usually come to the door, but they’re on strike, remember.”

  The newsboys came to their door because they knew Malloy tipped well. She handed back the newspaper. “I think it’s very brave of the boys to strike.”

  “Brave or foolish. I just hope they don’t regret it.”

  “I know. I can’t see either Pulitzer or Hearst backing down. If they give in to a bunch of children, no one will ever fear them again.”

  “According to the Times, the strike is spreading, though. The newsboys in other cities won’t sell the papers either.”

  “Really? I had no idea. How did they even hear about it?”