Chapter 12 #2
“The woman I’m speaking of is criminal. Her organization can be violent and is involved with criminal activity, but she has experience with being homeless at a young age.
I understand she had two sisters with her, both younger and both died from the elements or sickness, I’m not sure.
But I feel strongly that she will have extraordinary insights into what is really needed. ”
“Not everyone facing such horrible circumstances such as this woman did as a child can grow to adulthood without some . . . damage. We, none of us, know what we would do or succumb to if faced with the same.”
“Agreed.”
Virginia was cognizant of her fortuitous birth to a wealthy family.
Of her father’s ethics and the company’s successes.
She was extremely fortunate, and she recognized the bald fact that most people were not born into such a happy and prosperous home.
What if happenstance had precipitated a loss of fortune, of their home?
What if there had been an illness or some circumstance beyond their control that left them without basic necessities?
What would her father have resorted to in order to feed or clothe her?
He would have gone to any length. Any length at all.
Virginia sent a message to Irene Littleman with the date and time of the meeting and reminders to some men and women in commerce or those with wealthy families inclined to support charities, and a few local politicians as well, of the meeting and her hopes they would attend and hear about the ideas she and Nancy planned to present. She’d better remind Phillip too.
Phillip stopped to see Hiram Moulder early the next morning. He knocked on the locked front door. Frank opened it and smiled.
“Hey, mister! Have you figured everything out yet?”
Phillip shook his head. “Not yet. I was hoping to speak to your father. I’d like to talk to the woman who rents that room. Do you know who that is?”
“Sure. That’s Miss Turner. She works at the same place Miss Button worked at. Don’t know where, though.”
“That’s helpful. Thanks, Frank. Is your dad coming home soon?”
Frank shrugged. “Don’t know. He had to go somewhere with Mr. Norris.”
Phillip smiled in spite of feeling that there was going to be trouble for Moulder. “Listen, Frank. If something should happen and you find yourself alone or afraid, you get out and get yourself to Wolfe Street. Hear me?”
“You think something bad is going to happen, mister?”
“Don’t know. Probably not, but a smart young man like you has to think ahead.”
Frank nodded. “Think I’ll put my things in a poke, case I have to leave quick.”
“Good thinking.”
Phillip ruffled Frank’s hair and then waited until he heard the lock on the door latch shut.
He huffed a breath. Now he was going to have to go see Button’s aunt, Bertha Lambeth, which he really didn’t want to do, as odds were she was going to make him furious one way or another.
But he didn’t have much choice if he was going to track down Miss Turner.
He caught the streetcar after a long wait, heading to German Street and the second floor of number 15.
He walked up the rickety staircase and heard a man shouting and a woman’s slurred reply. He turned at the top of the steps, hurrying to Lambeth’s apartment, seeing her door standing ajar.
“What did you do, Mrs. Lambeth? Tell me now,” Father Tom shouted.
“Nothing, didn’t do nothing. She’s just bad, that’s all. Can’t blame me for that,” Lambeth said and dropped down onto the worn sofa.
“What’s going on, Father?” Phillip asked.
“That’s what we need, another do-gooder,” Lambeth sneered at Phillip. “Get out of here, the both of you!”
Father Tom closed his eyes and tilted his head back, taking slow, deep breaths. He turned to Phillip. “Fanny’s gone. Haven’t seen her since yesterday morning.”
Phillip walked across the room to where Lambeth sat. He waited until she looked up at him. He saw fear in her eyes and was glad. “Father?” he said without turning. “Can you wait for me in the hallway?”
Phillip could feel the man’s eyes on him. “Violence is never called for,” the priest said softly.
“Tell that to Josephine Button,” Phillip said. “The hallway, Father.”
Phillip heard the door close as he watched Bertha Lambeth’s face whiten. “Who was here? Norris? Somebody else? Who was here, and what did you tell them?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lambeth looked away.
Phillip leaned down and braced himself on the arm of the sofa, leaning close to her, smelling the alcohol and sweat emanating from her body. “Do the right thing, Bertha. Tell me who was here, what they asked you, and what you told them. I’ll be patient, Bertha. Then I won’t be.”
The woman looked up at him and swallowed. “Never said his name. But heard the one in the hallway call him Norris.”
“What did he ask?”
“He wanted to know who’d been here talking to me.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth!” she said. “I told him you were here asking about the girls.”
“What else?”
She glanced away and whispered, “Told him Fanny was probably down at the church.”
“Who was in the hallway?”
“Don’t know. Only saw him a second or so. Looks like that one copper. Big, mean. Dark haired.”
“You think he’s a policeman?”
She nodded. “Just saw him quick, like I said, but he looks like the one who’s broken up some fights around here. I watch out my window.”
“Who did Josephine work for?”
“What?”
“Where was Josephine employed?”
Lambeth scratched her scalp with a long fingernail. “In some fancy office near where she lived. I heard her tell the girls she filed papers and made copies all day. Think it was a lawyer. Gordon? Gardner? One of those.”
Phillip shook his head and straightened. “If I were you, I’d lay low for a while. If they find out you were talking to me again, they’ll kill you. Get your clothes together and get out of here.”
Lambeth jumped up and ran to a room in the back, the curtain swinging behind her as she pushed it aside.
It wasn’t too many minutes before she was back with a valise that she dropped on the sofa.
Phillip could hear her rumbling around in dishes before she reappeared in the parlor.
She tucked a change purse in her valise, pulled on her hat, and went out the door, never looking back.
Father Tom stuck his head in the door. “What happened?”
“I scared her into telling me what went on, and then I told her to get out of town until this is solved,” Phillip said.
“I don’t hit women, Father. Even when they’re as miserable and irresponsible as Lambeth.
She told them that Fanny was staying at the church.
I’m going to ask around your neighborhood and see if anyone has seen her. Or saw her being taken.”