Chapter 8 #2
Phillip walked toward the man’s outstretched hand, which was missing three of its fingers. “So this is where you’re hiding yourself?” he said and shook the man’s hand.
“Met my wife up north in Pennsylvania and brought her back here to live. Had to get respectful employment, don’t you know.”
“Married? Good Lord! Known you since we were boys on Wolfe Street back in the day. Would not have guessed you would have been the first of us to marry, but we did lose track of each other when we went off to fight,” Phillip said.
“How’s Timothy? Not married either?”
“That’s partly why I’m here. He’s in jail. On a murder charge.”
“What? He’s the officer we heard about? I don’t believe it—unless he was defending himself.”
“Can we talk somewhere?” Phillip said, noticing the men around them doing their best not to look as though they were listening.
O’Malley signaled him to follow to a cramped office. There were two desks, and O’Malley dropped down onto the chair on the right and pointed at the other desk chair for Phillip to sit.
“He’ll be out for a while. Either getting his lunch or meeting his lady friend.”
Phillip sat and proceeded to tell his old friend everything he knew so far from the moment there’d been a knock at his door.
“Timothy was helping this woman, Josephine Button, find her sister, and then one of them is dead and the other in a jail cell. Somebody doesn’t want anyone to know where this young girl, or the others my informant mentioned, went to. ”
“What are you saying? That there’s someone out there stealing young girls off the street?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I think Timothy got close to finding something out and whoever it was wanted him stopped.”
“I’m not assigned to any of the local cases like the Button girl, but I’ll do my best to find out what I can,” O’Malley said. “Still on Wolfe Street?”
Phillip nodded. “Any help you can give me is appreciated.”
Phillip walked out into the sunshine and headed to the corner, where he thought there might be a trolley.
He saw a few people clustered at the corner and leaned against a pole marking the street name to wait, thinking about his unexpected meeting with O’Malley and his old friend’s statement that he wasn’t assigned to the Button case or ones similar to it.
Strange, then, that when he’d glanced at the paperwork on the desk where he sat, he’d seen a paper sticking out from the others and had seen Button 13.
It had been all he could do to keep himself from pulling that paper away from the others to see all the letters.
How would O’Malley have no knowledge of these cases if the man he shared an office with was the one doing the investigating?
Virginia and Colleen rode to Wolfe Street in her carriage, Mr. Turnbull handling the two-horse team, to visit Sarah Brown.
She had been wondering about Timothy Sweitzinger and whether there was any news about his case.
Jenny showed them into the sitting room, where Sarah was already entertaining company.
“I’m so sorry to intrude,” Virginia said. “I should have sent a note. We’ll come back another day.”
“Oh no!” Sarah stood up from her seat. She looked very glad for Virginia’s and Colleen’s company and asked Jenny to bring a fresh pot of tea. “Please sit down.”
“Thank you,” Virginia said and turned to smile at the unknown woman. She was dressed in a plaid skirt, her red hair piled high on her head.
“Miss Wiest, this is Mrs. Miriam Dexter. Miriam, this is our friend Miss Wiest and her companion, Miss Hughes,” Sarah said.
Virginia reached out her hand. “Please call me Virginia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh,” the woman said, her face coloring. “The Wiests from the cannery?”
“Yes,” Virginia said with a smile.
“Oh,” she said again, glancing nervously to Sarah. Jenny carried the tea tray in with small cakes topped with blueberries and still steaming from the oven.
Sarah poured tea. “Miriam, is engaged to be married to our Uncle Patrick.”
“How wonderful!” Virginia said and smiled at her. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you,” she replied.
“I was just helping Miriam select a dress style for the occasion. What do you think of this?” Sarah held up book of designs to show her and Colleen.
“Beautiful,” Colleen said. “Congratulations, Mrs. Dexter.”
“Just lovely. What color have you decided on?” Virginia asked.
“Dolly has a pale blue satin that I think will be nice,” Miriam said. “As long as she can put some fancy trim around the neck and cuffs. Otherwise, it ain’t dressy enough for a bride.”
“It is a lovely fabric and will highlight your eyes. You will look just as a bride should,” Sarah said.
“So much to think about, especially with the new house,” Miriam said and worried her lower lip.
“You’ve bought a house?” Virginia asked.
“Yes. Down Wolfe Street a block. Close enough for Patrick to visit here whenever he wants. He insisted, you know. Said we weren’t going to live far from Sarah and her brother. He had the raising of them and wasn’t going to give either of them up.”
“Of course not,” Virginia said and patted Miriam’s hand. “Are you moved in yet?”
“No, but I told Mrs. Freidman that I won’t be in to help her with the housekeeping at the Reynolds house for a whole week. Don’t think she was happy, but I need time to get the new house ready and move all my things. And Patrick’s too.”
“Not too much to worry about with Patrick’s belongings. I’ll bet he can get everything in his room in one box!” Sarah said with a laugh.
“That’s a relief!” Miriam said.
Sarah leaned forward. “I’m not working much next week at Dolly’s. I’ll come help you get the house ready.”
“I’d be happy to help too,” Virginia said.
Both Sarah and Miriam turned to stared at her.
“Oh, miss. We’ll be scrubbing floors and the like. That’s not the thing for you to be doing,” Miriam said.
“I can help,” she said and glanced at Colleen. “I may not be as quick as you ladies, but I’m sure I can be useful. Please let me know what day.”
“If you’re sure, Virginia,” Sarah said.
“I’m sure,” she said with a smile.
“Well,” Miriam said. “We could use the help. I want it clean as can be before I set Patrick to painting.”
“Does Uncle know he’s to be painting?”
Miriam sipped her tea. “Not yet.”