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A Lady's Choice

Page 15

by Sandra Robbins


  Minutes ticked by, and a battle waged inside him. Finally spent from his ordeal, he cried out in prayer. “Father, I’ve failed to follow Your teachings. Forgive my selfishness. Help me to serve You.”

  A peace flowed into his heart as he raised his head and looked at the cross at the front of the church.

  He had no answers to how the problems in his life would be solved, but he knew God had promised to be with him. He lifted his eyes toward heaven. “Thank You, Lord, for reminding me of how far I’ve strayed from the path You set me on. Guide me to where You want me to be.”

  After a few minutes, he rose and walked up the aisle. He had much to atone for, and perhaps some things would never be changed. Right now, his first action required asking Ellen’s forgiveness.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sarah didn’t know why she had insisted on coming back to Memphis so soon. She could very well have missed the suffrage meetings, but then she might have seen Alex again. Another confrontation with him was more than she could bear.

  After two days back at the school, Sarah felt restless. She glanced around the dining room, where she sat alone at the big table and sipped her morning coffee. It seemed strange without the chatter of the boarding students, but of course they were still home with their families for the holidays.

  The door to the kitchen opened, and Dora Campbell entered. “Do you want anything else to eat, Miss Sarah? Maybe some more coffee?”

  Sarah held up her cup and studied Dora as she poured the coffee. Her dress hung on her gaunt figure, and her brown hair lay piled underneath the ruffled cap she wore. Her arms, strong from years of heavy lifting, held a silver coffeepot in her hands. Sarah smiled at the young girl who worked in the kitchen. “Did you have an enjoyable Christmas, Dora?”

  The girl shrugged. “I spent most of the day in my room by myself.”

  Sarah took a sip of coffee and set her cup in the saucer. “Don’t you have any family?”

  “No, ma’am. But it was a good day.” She smiled, and Sarah was struck by how big her eyes looked in her narrow face. “It’s always a good day when you can rest.” She reached for Sarah’s plate. “If you’re through with this, Miss Sarah, I’ll take it back to the kitchen.”

  “Thank you, Dora. Thank Mrs. Thompson for fixing my breakfast even though I was the only one eating.”

  Dora nodded and turned back to the kitchen, but she stopped before she got to the door. “Oh, I forgot to tell you something.”

  “What?”

  She walked back to the table. “There was a policeman here to see you while you were gone. He said he was investigating Christine’s murder and wanted to talk with you. I told him you’d be back after Christmas.”

  Sarah rose from her chair and faced Dora. “Did he say if they’d found out who killed Christine?”

  “No, ma’am. I don’t think they have because there was another girl killed down on Beale right before Christmas.”

  Sarah gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Was it similar to Christine’s murder?”

  “Well, I don’t rightly know, ma’am. I heard the maids talking about it. They said she was strangled. Was that how Miss Christine was killed?”

  “Yes.” Sarah propped a shaky hand on the table to steady herself.

  Dora frowned and shook her head. “That was a shame what happened to Miss Christine. She was so nice to the help here. Always giving us little gifts. Nothing expensive. Just little trinkets, like that pin she wore all the time.”

  Sarah pulled her thoughts away from Christine and directed her attention back to Dora. “What pin?”

  “She had this little pin that she wore on her dress every day. I asked her about it once, and she said it was in a box of her belongings when she was delivered to the orphanage. She didn’t know who it belonged to, but she always liked to believe it had been her mother’s.”

  Sarah’s eyes grew wide. “I remember that pin. It was in the shape of a bow and had stones that looked like diamonds set in it. But I never thought they were real diamonds. Maybe they were.”

  Dora stepped closer. “Do you think somebody might have killed Miss Christine for her pin?”

  “I don’t know. Did Detective Baker want me to call him?”

  “He didn’t say, Miss Sarah.”

  Sarah took a deep breath. “Thank you for telling me, Dora.”

  “You’re welcome.” She turned and hurried through the door toward the kitchen.

  Sarah didn’t move for a few minutes as she thought about Christine’s death and now the death of another woman. She glanced at the clock on the sideboard, and a plan formed in her mind. With everyone away and Mrs. Simpson out for the day, she had nothing to do.

  She ran from the dining room and up the stairs to her bedroom, where she put on her coat and hat and grabbed her handbag. Hurrying downstairs, she was almost to the front door when Dora’s voice called out to her.

  “Miss Sarah, are you going out?”

  She turned and nodded. “Yes, I thought I’d get out of the house for a while. I don’t know if I’ll be back in time for the noon meal or not.”

  Dora frowned. “B–but what will I tell Mrs. Simpson if she asks?”

  “Just tell her I went out for a while.”

  Before Dora could ask more questions, Sarah slipped out the front door and headed to the streetcar stop a few blocks down. There had been another death near downtown, and for some reason the detective investigating the cases had come to see her. She had to know why.

  Sarah got off the streetcar and stared at the imposing building on the corner of Adams and Second Street. She’d passed the Police Department’s Central Station many times, but she’d never been inside. Several Model T Fords sat next to the curb along Second Street, and Sarah recognized them as being like the one Detective Baker had been in when he came to Mrs. Simpson’s house.

  She climbed the wide, stone steps that led between tall columns to the entrance and stepped inside the reception area. Her footsteps tapped across the marble entrance as she headed to a desk where a uniformed officer sat. He looked up at her when she stopped in front of him.

  “Yes, ma’am, may I help you?”

  She swallowed and rubbed her lips together. “I’d like to speak with Detective Baker, please.”

  He picked up a telephone and directed a bored gaze in her direction. “What’s the name?”

  “Sarah Whittaker.”

  She turned away and studied her surroundings while the officer was on the phone. A man sat on a bench against the far wall of the room. His elbows rested on his knees, and his hands were clasped before him. His shoulders shook with sobs as a police officer talked quietly to him. Sarah tore her gaze away from the man’s distress and glanced at the staircase toward the back of the room.

  A woman descended, and Sarah was struck by the thin coat she wore. That wouldn’t shield her from the cold December wind very well. The woman stopped about halfway down the stairs and grabbed the banister. For a moment she stood with her eyes closed and her lips clamped together. Then she raised a shaking hand and wiped at the tears running down her cheeks. Sarah quickly averted her gaze, but it was too late. The woman had seen her. Out of the corner of her eye Sarah watched as the woman straightened her shoulders and continued her descent. She held her head high as she strode past Sarah and out the front door.

  “Miss Whittaker.” Sarah whirled in surprise at the sound of her name. The officer behind the desk frowned. “I said, Detective Baker will see you now.”

  “Thank you. Where do I go?”

  “Up the stairs and to the left. It’s the second room on your right.”

  Sarah hurried across the lobby and up the steps. Detective Baker stood at the door of the office waiting for her. He smiled and motioned her inside. “Miss Whittaker, I didn’t realize you had gotten back.”

  She followed him into the office and sat in a chair facing his desk. He sank down in the one behind his desk. “Yes. I understand you came to see me while I was go
ne. Have you learned anything new about my father’s death?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing new, but I did want to ask you a question. I seem to remember when your father died, you kept mentioning that something he carried was missing. I’ve looked through all the notes on the case, but evidently it wasn’t written down.”

  “It was a commemorative coin his father brought back from the 1884 World Industrial and Cotton Exposition in New Orleans. He always had it in his pocket, but it wasn’t on his body. What made you ask?”

  Detective Baker propped his elbows on his desk and tented his fingers. “I was curious. Your father’s office wasn’t too far from Beale Street. We’ve had several murders occur down there in the past few years, and I couldn’t help but think how close your father worked to the area.”

  Sarah sat on the edge of her chair. “I’ve never accepted the fact that my father killed himself. I believe someone pushed him out the window.”

  “Or killed him first and then threw him out the window.” He straightened in his chair. “But of course, that’s just a suspicion. I don’t have any proof. Can you think of anybody who would hate your father enough to want to kill him?”

  Sarah had asked herself that question many times in the last two years. She searched her mind again, and then she remembered. “Right before my father’s death, he made his will and asked his cousin to be the executor. Last summer we discovered this cousin had been stealing our money. Do you think he could have killed my father to get to the money he left us?”

  Detective Baker picked up a pen and pulled a notepad closer. “What’s your cousin’s name?”

  “Raymond Whittaker. But he’s in jail on embezzlement charges, or at least I think he is.”

  “Let me check on that. I’ll be right back.” The detective pushed to his feet and strode to the door.

  Time seemed to drag as she waited in the office for Detective Baker’s return. Finally, after about fifteen minutes, he reappeared. He sat back down and exhaled through clenched teeth. “Your cousin is still in jail. So that means he couldn’t have committed the last two murders. He could be a suspect in your father’s death, though. We’ll question him about that.”

  He leaned back in his chair and stared at Sarah. “Is there anything else you wanted to talk with me about today?”

  “Yes.” She frowned and leaned forward. “I’ve always been puzzled about my father’s coin not being accounted for. I wondered if there was anything missing from Christine’s body or the other woman who was recently murdered?”

  “Like what?”

  Sarah took a deep breath. “Maybe something she had with her all the time. Like a…a keepsake of some kind.” Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes grew wide. “Christine had a bow-shaped pin she wore all the time. It was on her dress every day at school. Was it on her body?”

  Detective Baker exhaled. “Her landlady asked the same question. No, the pin wasn’t on her dress.”

  Sarah swallowed back the embarrassment she felt at what she wanted to say next. “Detective Baker, the article in the paper about Christine’s death made it sound like she wasn’t a nice person.” She hesitated and took a deep breath. “I want you to know that she wasn’t a prostitute.”

  His dark eyes held a solemn look. “I know that.”

  Sarah sighed in relief. “G–good. I didn’t want her remembered that way. She was a sweet girl who had a difficult childhood. She was trying to make a life for herself.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I believe that. She happened to meet up with somebody who had no regard for human life.”

  “But I can’t figure out what Christine was doing on Beale Street. It’s not the kind of place I’d think she’d enjoy.”

  Detective Baker nodded. “I have trouble with that too. It’s possible she was killed somewhere else, and her body left where she’d be found.”

  Sarah thought about the possibility for a moment. “That makes sense. I heard there was another girl murdered over the holidays.”

  “Yes. We’ve had at least four women murdered during the past few years.”

  He narrowed his eyes and stared at her so intently she fidgeted in her chair. “Is something wrong?”

  “I was just thinking about the murder victims. They were all so young, about your age, I’d say.”

  Sarah sank back in her chair. “Did they have missing items?”

  “The mother of the most recent victim was just here. She wondered about a small ruby ring that her daughter always wore. The girl’s father gave it to her right before he died. Her mother said she never took it off, but it wasn’t on her finger.”

  Sarah remembered the crying woman she’d seen downstairs, and her heart pricked at the agony she must be in. “Detective Baker, do you think there’s a killer in Memphis who takes a souvenir from each of his victims?”

  “I don’t know, Miss Whittaker, but I intend to find out.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alex raised his head after the benediction and glanced around the church. He hadn’t wasted any time in finding a church to attend when he’d returned to Memphis after the holidays, and he had to admit he liked his choice. After two months of attending services, he’d gotten to know quite a few of the members, and he already felt at home.

  As he walked up the aisle toward the vestibule, he stopped at the sound of his name being called out. He turned and smiled at the sight of Will Page, a friend from law school, waving to him from the front of the church. He slid into an empty pew and waited for Will to make his way up the aisle to him.

  With a big grin on his face, Will pushed into the pew and grabbed Alex’s hand. “Alex Taylor, imagine seeing you here.”

  Alex shook his hand and laughed. “I’ve been attending here for about two months now.”

  “I’ve been out of town since before Christmas. I just got back yesterday. It’s great to see you.”

  They dropped down on the bench and turned to face each other. Alex smiled at the man who, along with Ben Cooper, had been his study partner through law school. “I haven’t seen you since graduation. Have you heard from Ben?”

  Will laughed and turned to rest his arm on the back of the pew. “Ben headed to Washington after we graduated, you know. He landed a job with Dudley Malone and Matthew O’Brien, those lawyers in Washington who have been so vocal in supporting suffrage.”

  Alex gaped at Will and frowned. “Ben’s working in the suffrage movement?”

  “Yeah, you know he always supported gender equality. I guess he’s found some lawyers who think like he does. From all accounts, he’s happy as can be.”

  Alex thought of his friend from law school and remembered how passionate he had been when he talked about the injustices women had endured. His stomach roiled, and Alex knew it was from his guilt over dismissing Ben’s opinions. If he had listened then, things might have turned out so differently for Sarah and him. Alex sat up straighter and turned his attention back to Will. “But what are you doing in Memphis? I thought you were going to stay in Nashville and practice.”

  Will laughed. “You know me, always looking for something better. I got an offer from a firm here and decided to take it instead. I meant to look you up, but I’ve been busy.”

  “You don’t sound too busy, not if your boss let you off for two months. Maybe I need to check him out.”

  The tips of Will’s big ears turned red. Alex had seen that reaction many times in class when he had been embarrassed by one of their professors. “No need to do that. You wouldn’t like it there. That firm doesn’t practice our kind of law.”

  “And what kind is that?”

  Will frowned. “You know what I mean. Do you remember all those conversations you and Ben and I had about serving the people and helping those who had no one else to stand up for them?”

  Alex nodded. “Yes, I remember. We talked about being gallant and our belief that everyone is entitled to a defense.” The words reminded Alex of how far he’d strayed from that ideal.

  “I
found out that the firm I’d joined didn’t care about what I believed. I was told who I could represent and who I couldn’t. I finally got tired of it, and I quit right before Christmas.”

  Alex stared at Will in surprise. “You quit? What are you going to do now?”

  A big smile creased Will’s face. “I’m starting a new job next week. The city of Memphis has decided to fund a new office called the Public Defender’s Office. This is the first such office in the state. It will be staffed with lawyers who offer legal services to those who can’t afford to hire a lawyer, and I’m going to be one of them. Just think, Alex, I’ll be one of the first in the state to provide legal help to those in need. It’s just what we always talked about.”

  “But what about the salary? Surely it doesn’t compare with what you were making.”

  Will chuckled. “The salary’s not that great, but it’s enough to live on. I found out in a hurry that money can’t make up for what you sacrifice in selling out your beliefs. I feel like this is what God is telling me to do, Alex. For the first time since leaving law school I’m happy.”

  Alex stared at him for a moment before he nodded. “I’m happy for you, Will. It sounds just like what we always talked about. I’m glad Memphis is going to provide an example to the rest of the state.”

  “They’ve still got some openings. Want to come join us?”

  Alex shook his head. “It’s tempting, but I’m making it all right at the moment. But since we’re now attending the same church, I expect I’ll be hearing all about this new job.”

  A wistful expression covered Will’s face. “Just think, Alex, after all those midnight talks about the future, I’m going to get the chance to make a difference.” Will pushed to his feet. “It’s been great seeing you today. I hate to run off, but I’m expected at my future in-laws’ house for Sunday dinner.”

 

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