Chapter 13
Father Tom and Phillip walked down German Street together toward Saint Vincent’s Church. The same group of young men who’d Phillip had dealings with before were clustered on the walkway, still pitching stones at a post.
“Your mothers could use help at home, I’m guessing,” Father Tom said. “Why don’t you see what they need? Or I could use some help scything the yard in the back of the church.”
A few of them shrugged and wandered away, leaving the ones Phillip had sparred with a few days before. The priest continued talking to them, but Phillip slipped away and caught up with two younger ones, maybe only thirteen or fourteen years old, who had taken the priest’s advice.
“Hey, boys,” Phillip said. Both of them turned quickly and backed up. “Just want to ask you a question or two.”
“’Bout what?”
“About a young girl named Fanny Button.”
“What about her?”
“Do you know who she is?”
Both boys nodded. “She’s Nora’s little sister,” the taller of the two said.
“Do you know what happened to Nora?”
The boys looked at each and shrugged. The short one said, “Naw.”
“Do you know what happened to Fanny?”
Both boys shook their heads.
“Can we go now? I’m supposed to be getting home,” the short one said.
“Sure. Get on home. If you hear anything about either of the Button girls, tell Father Tom. He’ll let me know.”
The short boy took off at a run; the taller of the two ambled away with an occasional glance over his shoulder.
Phillip walked toward the church, taking his time, making sure his destination was clear.
He walked up the stone steps and took a narrow walk around the side of the church. The taller boy was waiting for him.
“What’s your name?” Phillip asked.
“Billy.”
“What do you know about those girls, Billy?”
The boy swallowed and glanced around. “Nora liked to kiss Sam.”
“Who’s Sam?”
“Sam’s the one you pricked with your knife.”
“So Nora liked to kiss Sam, what happened?”
“Not sure, but one day a few weeks ago, Sam showed up on the corner wearing new boots and jingling some coins in his pocket.”
“Like he came into some money?”
Billy nodded. “He was bragging about his new boots and had a fat cigar he let some of the boys puff on once or twice.”
“Where do you think he got the money?”
Billy shoved his hands in his worn pants that were short in the leg and looked away. “I think he sold Nora.”
“Sold her? He didn’t own her.”
“Yeah, but her auntie didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. I think Sam took her someplace private to kiss or maybe more. I think he’d already told some men that they could have her. I don’t know. Maybe one of the girls down at Shelly’s house.”
Phillip knew a solid lead when he heard one. “Shelly’s house?”
“You know,” he said as his cheeks heated. “Where you pay to have a woman.”
“A brothel.”
“Yeah. That’s it.”
“Where is this Shelly’s?”
“Down on Conway, getting close to the water.”
Phillip thought about the brothels on Hendricks’s list and in Timothy’s notes. Conway was not an address he remembered.
“Don’t suppose you know who the men were who took Nora.”
Billy shook his head. “But I’ll bet the copper knows. The one from Station Twelve.”
“Why would a policeman know?”
“I’m not stupid, mister. Just cause I ain’t full-grown don’t mean I don’t have ears and eyes, don’t you know,” Billy said belligerently.
“I don’t think you’re stupid at all. I think you’re brave coming here to tell me what you have. Do you know what this policeman looks like?”
“He’s the one who’s always with the big man with red hair.”
“O’Malley? O’Malley’s partner?”
“Yeah. The partner,” Billy said and looked around. “I better get out of here before one of the guys sees me.”
Phillip nodded and pulled several coins from his pocket. “Here. There’s enough there to get your family some dinner from the butcher.”
Billy looked at the money in his palm, nodded to Phillip, and took off in a hurry toward the alley behind the church.
Virginia wore a pale blue dress that she always thought flattered her to accompany her stepmother Nancy to an afternoon visit at her childhood home.
Nancy was nervous but valiantly working to stay calm.
They’d left her father at the door of Shellington, wringing his hands.
Mr. Crimlock stopped the horses under a portico, and a uniformed man opened the door.
They were met inside the house by the housekeeper, which, in Virginia’s mind, was a slight.
Why wouldn’t Mrs. Alcott greet her daughter herself?
Virginia could have moaned aloud at the sheer pettiness of the woman but smiled instead and followed Nancy into a large sitting room with multiple seating areas and marble fireplaces on both ends.
One servant was passing tea to the guests already there, and another was serving cake and cookies.
Mrs. Alcott stood. “Well. We didn’t think you were going to honor us with your presence.”
“Your invitation said half past two, Mother,” Nancy said.
“I’m certain you read it wrong. Our tea is at two of the clock!”
“I read the invitation as well, Mrs. Alcott. Whoever helped you with writing them must have made an error,” Virginia said and looked around the room. “But we are here now, and I’m anxious to meet some of Nancy’s and your acquaintances.”
The room had quieted when Mrs. Alcott first spoke and remained silent until Virginia met the eyes of several of her fellow guests.
“Yes, of course, Virginia,” Nancy said. “There’s an old friend of mine from my school days. Please come and meet her.”
Virginia was introduced to several women, a few she knew by sight.
Nancy seemed to have regained herself after to speaking to several women her age who all seemed genuinely glad to see her and hear about her children and her new husband.
She stayed close to Nancy until she excused herself to find the necessary room.
She followed the direction Nancy gave her to a closed door a few women had just exited.
She did what was necessary and opened the door of the room to find Nancy’s cousin Bertrand Alcott leaning against the wall across from the room.
She nodded and moved quickly toward the stairs.
But not fast enough as he stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop.
“Miss Wiest. What a pleasure to see you.”
“Please move out of the way, Mr. Alcott.”
He leaned his hand against the wall above her head, inching his way toward her, doing his best to cage her in. “Now, Miss Wiest, is that any way to greet a friend?”
“We are not friends, sir, and we never will be.”
“We could remedy that right now.” He lifted his hand to her cheek.
“Best not.” She stared at him. “There’s a man who would happily kill you if you touch me.”
“What an unpleasant little hellion you are. I would enjoy taming you.”
“Step away, Mr. Alcott.”
He stepped back slowly, never taking his eyes from her. “Of course, Miss Wiest. I’m sure we’ll meet again when you are in a more . . . receptive humor.”
Virginia forced a laugh. “What a jokester you are, Mr. Alcott.”
Phillip headed home, as he felt as if he needed to bathe after being in Bertha Lambeth’s rooms. He finally had some good leads, though, and stopped at Station Five to speak to Hendricks. He repeated Lambeth’s comments and that the youngest Button sister was gone now too.
“This kid Billy said this other boy, Sam, had come into some money recently and that he was fairly certain Sam had lured Nora Button to someone who was going to put her at Shelly’s brothel on Conway.”
“Jesus and the saints. The girl is thirteen.”
Phillip nodded and stared hard at Hendricks. “Know you don’t want to hear this, but Lambeth and Billy both said if anyone would know what had become of either Nora or Fanny, it would be Smythe, James Smythe. His partner is a friend of mine and Timothy’s when we were kids.”
“The dark-haired one that came by to snoop when Youngman got murdered?”
Phillip nodded. “I didn’t say anything before, but when I went to Station Twelve to find out what they knew about Nora, I sat at Smythe’s desk when me and O’Malley were talking.
There was a note sticking out from under a stack of papers that said ‘utton 13.’ Could have been something else, but I don’t think so. ”
“What did your old pal have to say about her being missing?”
“Said he didn’t know anything at all. He seemed surprised that she was gone. The priest told me she isn’t the first to go missing.”
“So there’s at least two young girls missing, and the local station doesn’t know anything about it? And the priest says there are others?” Hendricks shook his head. “Christ almighty, Brown. Nobody wants to be accusing other officers of being dirty.”
“Don’t blame you. And I want no parts of it, but I think we better face facts that it’s likely there are officers who would be just as happy to put a bullet in our heads or slit our throats. We’ve got to take care.”
“My wife took the train this morning with our girls to see her mother up in Pennsylvania.”
“That’s good. Do we know anything about Youngman’s family?”
“Wife and a baby. Captain’s collecting money for her. She has family in Delaware.”
“This gets worse by the minute.”
Phillip went straight home after shaking hands with Hendricks, who assured him he would update the captain on everything Phillip had said. He was glad he wouldn’t be the one casting accusations against an officer.