Murder on Sisters' Row gm-13

by Victoria Thompson

  Maeve and her neighbor had come out to see who’d arrived.

  Mrs. Ellsworth was equally happy to see Malloy. “It’s always nice to see you, Mr. Malloy. Are you hungry? We can heat up something from supper for you.”

  “No, thanks, I already ate. I could use some coffee, though.”

  Mrs. Ellsworth insisted on preparing the coffee, and the rest of them sat around the table.

  “What did you learn?” Sarah asked as soon as they were settled.

  “Before I tell you, did you find out anything interesting from Mrs. Spratt-Williams?”

  “Who’s that?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked over her shoulder as she put the coffee on to boil.

  “She’s one of Mrs. Van Orner’s helpers. I went to see her this afternoon, too.” Sarah turned back to Malloy. “She told me that she and Mrs. Van Orner were talking about Amy just before Mrs. Van Orner left the house. She said she told Mrs. Van Orner she should be more patient with Amy and not put her out just because she was difficult. Mrs. Van Orner refused to discuss it.”

  “That’s all they talked about?”

  “That’s what she said, but I had a feeling she wasn’t being entirely truthful with me. I did ask her who knew about Mrs. Van Orner’s drinking habits.”

  “Oh, my, this is getting very interesting,” Mrs. Ellsworth said, taking her seat at the table while she waited for the coffee to boil. “Don’t stop to explain, though. Just keep going.”

  Sarah thought Malloy wanted to roll his eyes, but he just smiled politely and said, “Who did she say knew?”

  “Just herself, Mr. Van Orner, and Miss Yingling.”

  “Who is Miss Yingling?” Mrs. Ellsworth whispered to Maeve.

  “Mrs. Van Orner’s secretary,” Maeve whispered back.

  “More people than that knew about her drinking,” Malloy said, resolutely ignoring Mrs. Ellsworth.

  Sarah managed not to smile. “I know. Even Mrs. Spratt-Williams realized it when I challenged her. She allowed that the Van Orners’ servants probably knew, at least her maid.”

  “Oh, yes, maids know everything,” Mrs. Ellsworth agreed.

  “Mr. Porter knew, too,” Malloy said.

  “Who’s Mr. Porter?” Mrs. Ellsworth whispered to Maeve again.

  “Another one of Mrs. Van Orner’s helpers,” Malloy answered impatiently, without waiting for Maeve. “He said everybody who worked with her knew about the flask she carried. They never let on, but they all knew.”

  “So any one of them could have poisoned her,” Maeve said.

  “No, they had to have an opportunity to put the poison in the flask yesterday, too,” Sarah reminded them.

  “Why did it have to be yesterday?” Maeve asked.

  Everyone looked at her in surprise.

  The color bloomed in her fair cheeks at the sudden attention, but she didn’t hesitate. “Just because she drank it yesterday doesn’t mean the killer put it in yesterday. They could have put it in anytime before that, and she just happened to drink it when she did.”

  “Maeve is right,” Sarah said. “I guess we’ve been assuming that she drank from the flask every day.”

  “Do you know how often she did drink from it?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked.

  Sarah looked at Malloy, who shrugged. “Miss Yingling said she took a drink when she got upset, to calm her down.”

  “She smelled of mint the two times I met with her in her office,” Sarah remembered. “She carried peppermints, and she even offered me one. I think she must have used them to cover the smell of the liquor on her breath.”

  “It takes more than a peppermint to do that,” Maeve said with authority.

  No one asked how she knew this.

  “The stuff she carried in her flask was a liqueur that smelled like mint,” Malloy told her.

  “It’s called crème de menthe,” Sarah added. “It’s very sweet.”

  “I’ve tasted that. It’s delicious,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “I can’t imagine gulping it down from a flask, though.”

  Sarah smiled. “I’m sure you’d get used to it if you drank it all the time.”

  “So you need to find out if she drank every day,” Maeve said. “And who could’ve put the poison in her flask.”

  “According to everyone I talked to, anyone at the rescue house could have done it, since she usually left her purse lying on the hallway table. And now,” Sarah added with growing dismay, “it looks like anyone at her home could have done it and maybe other people as well. We don’t know where she might have been in the days before she died.”

  “What kind of poison was it?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked.

  “Laudanum,” Malloy said.

  “Oh, my, anyone could have gotten hold of that, too.”

  “We found an empty bottle of it at the rescue house,” Sarah said.

  Malloy shook his head. “That doesn’t prove anything. Every house in the city probably has a bottle that’s at least half-empty.”

  “Including the Van Orners,” Sarah said. “Oh, the coffee’s boiling over.”

  Maeve jumped up before Mrs. Ellsworth could.

  “Could her husband have poisoned her?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked as Maeve started to fill the cups the older woman had set out.

  “He’s the one who told me to find her killer,” Malloy said. “I doubt he would’ve done that if he was the killer.”

  “Her servants, then?” Mrs. Ellsworth suggested. “Or somebody else who lives at her house?”

  “Miss Yingling lives there,” Sarah recalled.

  “Why would she want to kill Mrs. Van Orner, though? She’d lose her job,” Maeve said, setting cups in front of Malloy and Mrs. Ellsworth.

  Sarah tried to think of a reason. “Maybe Mrs. Van Orner had learned something bad about her and was going to let her go. Maybe she was even going to make a scandal and ruin her reputation.”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Ellsworth agreed eagerly as Maeve set down cups for Sarah and herself. “Oh, wait, that one was for Mrs.—” She seemed to catch herself and set about vigorously stirring her own coffee.

  Maeve gave her an odd look, then sat down and picked up the spoon from her own saucer. “Oh, look,” she said in feigned surprise. “I have two spoons. Doesn’t that mean I’m going to get married soon, Mrs. Ellsworth?”

  Mrs. Ellsworth also feigned surprise, but since she’d set out the cups and spoons, nobody imagined for a moment that she was. She’d obviously meant the two spoons to go to Sarah. This wouldn’t be the first time she’d tried to “arrange” a superstition for her. “Well, yes, it can mean that. It can also mean you’re going to marry twice, so I hope you don’t feel you must hurry to find a beau.”

  Sarah covered her mouth to hide a smile while Malloy looked on, completely bewildered by the exchange. She wasn’t about to explain it to him. “So where were we? Oh, yes, we decided that Mrs. Van Orner was going to ruin Miss Yingling and she was desperate to save herself. She was afraid she might end up in a brothel like those other girls, so she had to kill Mrs. Van Orner.”

  “I see,” said Maeve. “And if she killed Mrs. Van Orner before she told anyone about Miss Yingling, someone else would give her a job after Mrs. Van Orner died.”

  Malloy sighed in exasperation. “That’s fine except for one thing.”

  “What’s that?” Sarah asked.

  “Miss Yingling was a prostitute herself.”

  “What!” all three women cried in unison.

  “Who told you that?” Sarah asked in amazement.

  “Mr. Porter. She was the first prostitute Mrs. Van Orner rescued. That’s what I came here to tell you.”

  10

  SARAH SHOOK HER HEAD, TRYING TO UNDERSTAND. “DID the other people at Rahab’s Daughters know Miss Yingling had been a prostitute? Oh, wait, of course they did. Now it all makes sense.”

  “What makes sense?” Malloy asked.

  “The way they treated her, that day we had the meeting in Mrs. Van Orner’s office to plan how we were going to rescue Amy from the brothel. M
rs. Spratt-Williams and the two gentlemen, they acted like she wasn’t even there. I don’t think they even looked at her unless they had to. I thought they were just too proud to speak to a lowly secretary, but that wasn’t it at all.”

  “How did Mrs. Van Orner treat her?” Maeve asked. Sarah tried to recall. “She treated her like she was a servant, but that didn’t seem strange, because in a sense, she was.”

  “Except she lived in the Van Orners’ house,” Malloy reminded her.

  “So do their other servants,” Sarah said. “What I can’t understand is why Mr. Van Orner allowed it.”

  “You’re forgetting the rumors about Mr. Van Orner,” Malloy said. “They say he likes prostitutes.”

  “But would he like one living under his own roof?” Mrs. Ellsworth scoffed. “He’d be a laughingstock.”

  Malloy refused to give in. “Maybe his friends didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t even know. I can’t imagine his wife telling him.”

  Sarah shook her head. “And I can’t believe Miss Yingling was a prostitute. She’s one of the most prim and proper young women I’ve ever met.”

  “That’s what she’d want Mrs. Van Orner and everybody else to think,” Malloy argued back. “You didn’t see her last night, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Mrs. Ellsworth and Maeve leaned forward eagerly.

  “I mean when I asked if Mr. Van Orner would let me investigate his wife’s murder, she said she would ask him, but it would take a long time. I didn’t know what she meant at first. I thought she needed time to convince him, but when she came back an hour later, I realized that she needed the time to get herself fixed up. I didn’t even recognize her. She’d changed completely.”

  “Changed how?” Maeve asked.

  “She was beautiful, with her hair all curled and a nice dress on, one that showed off her figure instead of hanging on her. I don’t know what she said to convince Van Orner, but she made sure she looked pretty to do it.”

  “Oh, my,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “That gives her a good reason to kill Mrs. Van Orner.”

  Sarah frowned, not following at all. “What does?”

  “Why, she must be in love with Mr. Van Orner and wanted to get his wife out of the way so he could have him for herself.”

  Sarah frowned. “Mrs. Van Orner had saved her and given her a job and kept her in her own house. She had a lot of reasons to be grateful to Mrs. Van Orner. She also couldn’t possibly think Mr. Van Orner would ever want to marry her, no matter how much he might like prostitutes.”

  “And we’re forgetting all about Amy,” Maeve said.

  “What about her?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked.

  “You’re right, Maeve. Amy wasn’t grateful to Mrs. Van Orner at all, and she’d been hinting for weeks that Mr. Van Orner was the father of her baby,” Sarah said. “We might be sure Mr. Van Orner wouldn’t believe her and that he would certainly never marry her even if he did, but she might not have known any of that. As you said, Malloy, young girls get silly ideas.”

  “She was at the rescue house yesterday, and she had the opportunity to put the poison in Mrs. Van Orner’s flask, too,” Maeve reminded them.

  “Except for one thing,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “How could she know about Mrs. Van Orner’s drinking problem in the first place?”

  MALLOY DIDN’T LIKE HER PLAN, BUT SARAH THOUGHT IT was brilliant. She didn’t even need to convince her mother, who was only too happy to assist. Mrs. Decker agreed instantly when Sarah showed up at her house the next morning to ask her.

  “A condolence visit to Gregory Van Orner,” she repeated when Sarah suggested it. “I’m ashamed I hadn’t thought of it myself.”

  Sarah filled her in on everything she knew while her mother got herself properly dressed for a visit.

  “I’m not complaining, mind you,” her mother said while her maid pinned up her hair, “but why didn’t Mr. Malloy just go to the house himself?” They were in Mrs. Decker’s lavishly furnished bedroom.

  “Because they might just refuse to see him, and even if they did let him in, Mr. Van Orner and Miss Yingling might get angry and refuse to answer his questions. I could go alone, but Mr. Van Orner doesn’t know me, and Miss Yingling doesn’t have any reason to confide in me, but you . . .” Sarah smiled sweetly at her mother’s reflection in the dressing table mirror.

  “Gregory wouldn’t dare refuse to see me, and this Miss Yingling might be awed enough by my name to speak with you, too.”

  “Mother, you amaze me.”

  “Perhaps I should speak to Theodore about giving me a job on the police force . . . Oh, dear, I keep forgetting he’s not there anymore. He’s joined the Navy or something,” Mrs. Decker said, referring to their old family friend, Theodore Roosevelt, who had once been the police commissioner.

  “He’s the Assistant Secretary of the Navy in Washington, D.C., now,” Sarah reminded her. “I’m sure if you want to work for the police, Mr. Malloy can tell you who to speak with, though,” she added with a grin.

  “I’m sure he could. Perhaps we should see how this trip goes before I make any plans,” Mrs. Decker said, making her maid sigh in dismay.

  Even though the Van Orners lived only a few blocks away from Mrs. Decker, they took the carriage. Mrs. Decker wanted to make an impression.

  The maid who answered the door escorted Sarah and her mother straight upstairs to the front parlor, where they had to wait awhile for Mr. Van Orner. The maid brought tea and cake to occupy them. At last, Mr. Van Orner came in, looking a bit harried and still smoothing the lapels of his black mourning suit.

  “Elizabeth, how good of you to come,” he said, going straight for Mrs. Decker and taking the hand she offered him. He had once been a handsome man who was now going soft in his middle years. His features seemed slightly blurred with the puffiness that comes from too much drink.

  “I’m so sorry to hear about poor Vivian. I came at once to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

  “We’re all still in shock, I’m afraid. I’ve been trying to decide on funeral arrangements, but it’s so difficult. I don’t have any idea what she would have wanted.” He noticed Sarah. “Is this your daughter?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Brandt. She helped Vivian in her work at Rahab’s Daughters.”

  Sarah saw the emotion flicker across Mr. Van Orner’s face. She thought it was distaste, but he recovered quickly. “I’m sure Vivian appreciated your help very much.”

  “I was grateful for the opportunity. She’ll be greatly missed.”

  “Yes, well, I see the servants have brought you some refreshment. Can I refill your cups?” He took a seat on a chair opposite the sofa where they sat and proceeded to pour, filling a cup for himself in the process.

  “Vivian’s death was so sudden,” Mrs. Decker said. “Had she been ill?”

  “No, not that anyone knew. She . . . Well, I suppose you’ll hear sooner or later. The police believe she was helped along.”

  “Helped along?” Mrs. Decker said with creditable innocence.

  “You know, murdered.”

  “Good heavens! Who would do such a thing?”

  Van Orner glanced at Sarah. “Vivian had made a lot of enemies with her little hobby, people who wouldn’t think twice about murder.”

  “How was she murdered?” Mrs. Decker asked, still looking suitably shocked.

  “They believe she was poisoned somehow. At least that’s what Miss Yingling tells me. Miss Yingling was Vivian’s secretary.”

  “How on earth could someone have poisoned her?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve left everything up to the police.”

  Sarah could see they’d get nothing from Mr. Van Orner. “I would like to express my condolences to Miss Yingling, if I may. I met her while I was working with Mrs. Van Orner, and I know she must be devastated.”

  Mr. Van Orner seemed a bit surprised, but he shrugged. “I’m sure that would be fine.” He rang for the maid and sent her to fetch Miss Yingling.

 
Mrs. Decker made polite conversation with their host while they waited for Miss Yingling. When the door opened, Sarah managed not to gasp at the transformation in the young woman. After what Malloy had told her, she’d been prepared for a change, but the difference was still shocking.

  Malloy hadn’t done justice to her when describing the change, but Sarah could see every detail. The drab, ill-fitting suit was gone. In its place she wore a fashionable flowered gown that fit snugly enough to accentuate all of her womanly curves, curves Sarah hadn’t even suspected she possessed. Her hair had been restyled into the modern, more flattering Gibson girl knot on the top of her head. Soft curls adorned her forehead and trailed down her cheeks and the back of her neck. The faintest touches of rouge brought out the color in her lips and cheeks. She was, Sarah acknowledged, a lovely young woman. Sarah had to consciously close her gaping mouth.

  Miss Yingling seemed equally surprised. “Mrs. Brandt,” she said. “I didn’t know you were here.”

  “I heard the news about Mrs. Van Orner. I’m so very sorry.”

  Miss Yingling just stood there.

  Conscious of the uncomfortable silence, Mr. Van Orner said, “Mrs. Brandt said she knew you, Tamar.” He seemed unsure if he’d made a mistake by summoning Miss Yingling.

  “Yes, of course she does,” Miss Yingling quickly confirmed. “Mrs. Brandt helped us with our last rescue.”

  “The one with—”

  “The one I told you about,” she said sharply, cutting him off. The glance she gave him could only be described as a warning.

  Sarah had never seen a servant give such a look to her master, but Mr. Van Orner didn’t seem outraged or even surprised. He just nodded once and fell silent.

  Miss Yingling turned her attention back to Sarah, suddenly and belatedly gracious. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Brandt. How did you hear about Mrs. Van Orner’s death?”

  “From the police,” Sarah said.

  “The police? Why were you talking with the police?”

  “They wanted to know what I knew about Mrs. Van Orner’s activities.” That much was true, at least.