Chapter 12
Before Phillip realized, his Uncle’s wedding day had arrived.
Patrick was standing perfectly still while Sarah fixed his tie.
She’d been sniffling all morning, trying to look cheerful and failing to all those who knew her.
He wondered how much of her upset was caused by the changes to their household, losing their beloved uncle, so to speak, even if he was only moving a few blocks away.
But she’d been quiet and keeping to herself ever since Timothy had landed himself in jail.
Maybe Virginia was right. Maybe she and Timothy were worried about each other.
When Phillip glanced at Patrick, though, expecting him to have been rolling his eyes at Sarah’s fussing, that was not what he saw.
He was staring at Sarah, tears in his own eyes, and reached with a calloused, shaky thumb to wipe the tear from her cheek.
Sarah gave in then, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and laying her head against his chest. Patrick closed his eyes and held her close, kissing her hair and murmuring low words meant only for the two of them.
Phillip’s throat closed and he thought about their life growing up without parents, whom he could barely picture now, and he was sure Sarah had little recollection of, other than the solid hand of their father’s brother.
Keeping them afloat by working every shift he could get, letting them sprout their own wings in whatever direction they chose, but always, always being the steady presence in their lives, making their childhood years secure.
Harsh words were rarely necessary from him as any disappointment in his face was enough to set he and Sarah both on the right path.
He wouldn’t be the man he was without Patrick’s constant influence.
“You’re going to be late to your one and only wedding,” Phillip said finally.
Patrick turned away and cleared his throat. “Miriam will kill me if I’m late.”
“I haven’t said this before, but I’m really glad you’re marrying her,” Phillip said as Patrick turned to look at him.
“I never took the time to get to know her, which I should have, knowing how important she is to you. But I’ve gotten to know her a little more in the last few weeks. You’re a lucky man, Patrick Brown.”
Sarah nodded and wiped her eyes. “I think I was jealous of the time you spent with her, which was petty. I’ve been with her these last few weeks too, and I have to say she’s worthy of your love.
We’ve had some wonderful time together, picking out her wedding outfit and fixing up your house.
I know how much she loves you, and it makes me love her too. ”
Uncle’s lip wobbled. “Well, damn it. This is supposed to be a happy day. Now come on, you two. Let’s get to the church.”
Sarah smiled and kissed his cheek with a loud smack. “You couldn’t look any more handsome than you do now, so there’s no use waiting.”
Patrick took a deep breath. “Strange thing is, I’ve been seeing Miriam for years now. But I’m nervous as a tom cat in a paper bag. Have been for the last few days.”
Phillip laughed and Sarah giggled as they followed him out the door to the church on the corner.
The following morning, Phillip lay in bed, glad for the extra hour or two after eating plenty of Eliza’s cooking and drinking his share of Bond beer at their uncle’s new house after the wedding.
Miriam was clearly thrilled with the painting and papering that had been done in their house, and how her furniture and some new pieces made it very comfortable.
He and Sarah had put their money together and bought them a framed painting of the Patapsco River in springtime to hang over their fireplace.
It was like the newlyweds had been eighteen years old, wandering their new home, commenting on the wall colors and how they matched the sofa, and talking about all the improvements Patrick planned and the curtains and tablecloths Miriam intended to sew.
She’d been glowing and very pretty in her smart pale blue dress, playing hostess to their luncheon after the wedding.
Uncle had not been able to take his eyes off of her.
Phillip hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of Virginia Wiest, who’d looked as pretty as he’d ever seen her, laughing with Uncle and accepting Miriam’s hugs for the painting and wallpapering.
Miriam had sniffled with a wobbly smile, and Uncle had thrown his arm around her and kissed her cheek.
But Phillip got himself out of bed and was drinking the coffee Eliza handed him when there was a knock at the back door. Willis Shoeman came into the kitchen and took the coffee he was handed when Sarah came into the kitchen.
“Hello, Mr. Shoeman. We haven’t seen you for a while,” she said.
“Miss Sarah,” he said with a nod and a glance at Phillip.
Phillip looked at the three women. Eliza kneading bread, Sarah, mending in her hands, and poor Jenny, her head bowed washing some dishes. “Willis is going to stay here at the house during the day while I’m out until I can get Timothy cleared.”
“It’s that bad?” Sarah asked.
“These people are dangerous. Look what they did to Miss Button and Timothy and even to Mr. Turnbull. Willis works an evening shift, so I told him to sleep on the sofa in the sitting room in the morning if he didn’t get any sleep. He’ll be near the front door and the rifle.”
“I’ll stay out of you ladies’ way, but get me if you see a something strange,” Willis said.
“I’ll go to the market for you or with you,” Phillip said. “Don’t leave the house without one of us. Uncle Patrick said he’d check on you when he gets home from the docks.”
Eliza reached an arm around Jenny, who was shaking. “It’ll be all right, girl. We’ll look after each other.”
Phillip kissed Sarah’s cheek. “I’m getting close. This won’t last forever.”
“Just get him out of jail. Please.”
Phillip had every intention of doing exactly that.
There were three brothels owned by Thomas Bruner according to the information Hendricks had given him.
He checked Timothy’s small book and saw the same three addresses, although one of them was crossed out.
Phillip imagined that meant that Timothy had already checked that location and eliminated it.
Phillip thought he’d start with the location farthest away and took the streetcar to the corner of Chase and Eden Streets in the northern part of the city.
He jumped off a few blocks away and made his way to the nondescript three-story building, walking past slowly and noticing several women in the backyard.
One was stringing laundry on a line while the other two shouted at each other about “Bertie.”
“He only wants me, you hag!”
“He just does it with you ’cause he feels sorry for you!”
“That’s not true,” the first woman shouted and grabbed the second woman by the hair as she flounced away toward the stone steps of the building.
Phillip leaned over the waist-high fence. “Ladies! I don’t know who Bertie is, but he is one lucky fellow to have two such beautiful women vying for his attention.”
The first woman looked at him, her fist still caught in the second woman’s hair. “Who are you, dearie?”
“Just a lonely soul.” He smiled. “Looking for some company.”
“You come to the right place,” the first one said and straightened her robe, letting it hang open to display her bosom. “My name’s Bea. What’s yours?”
“Andy.”
“Why don’t you go around to the front door and ask for Bea? I’ll be happy to keep you company.”
“So would I,” the second woman said as she unsuccessfully attempted to fix the hair Bea had her fist in. “I’m Jilly. Ask for me.”
“The thing is, ladies, while you are both very tempting,” he signaled for them to step closer, “I’m a man who likes a young woman, maybe a girl, to keep me company,” he whispered, making himself sick even as he said the lie. “Any young ones inside?”
The second woman scratched her scalp with a long dirty fingernail. “The youngest of us is Em. She’s maybe sixteen.”
Phillip smiled at the two and tossed them each a coin. “Thanks, ladies. I’ll stop by to see you another day.”
“You stop by anytime, handsome. Do you for free!”
Phillip kept walking. If the women were telling the truth, then Nora was at the third brothel. Unless Bruner had the girl hidden away in the house somewhere, but he doubted it. He imagined little got by the women who lived and worked there.
Virginia reserved the meeting room on the second floor of the orphanage where she served on the board and had since its opening.
Phillip had been integral to ridding the board and even the city of its previous director, Horatio Clement, an evil man who’d been using his work for the orphanage as a cover for his thievery.
Her conversation with the new director about using the room for the purpose of beginning a charity for the housing of homeless women and their children in the dock area met with enthusiasm.
“I thank you, Mr. Barnstroke for allowing me to use this room for my initial meeting. I have no intention of diverting monies from the orphanage to this new endeavor.”
“You’ve done your very best for the children here since the orphanage began. I have high hopes for this new venture. It is desperately needed if the information I’m hearing is true,” Barnstroke said.
“It is needed. My stepmother will be chairing the board at its outset as this is an issue dear to her heart,” she said. “I didn’t want to surprise you, though. There may be an unsavory character or two at the meeting. If you’d prefer I held it elsewhere because of that, I will gladly do so.”
“Unsavory?”