Chapter 16
Phillip saddled Daisy the way Turnbull had instructed him and paid the stable master what he owed for the week.
He trotted through the city, even nodding to others on horseback, pleased with himself and Daisy too.
He didn’t seem to shy away from loud noises as he’d seen other horses do and was not lethargic when he needed him to move or turn quickly. Turnbull had done well.
He found his way to Conway Street and trotted down until he saw the number Hendricks had told him after he had made some inquiries with an officer from that area.
The address was a four-story brick building in a row of others of the same height.
There was an arched path to the back of the buildings every three or four residences, most of them with wire gates.
He trotted down the street and found the alley, counting carefully to see which one was Shelly’s.
He heard some yelling and a door banging through the open windows of the tenement.
He was surprised as it was early in the morning, only eight o’clock or so, and brothels typically did not begin to stir until later in the morning, as the inhabitants had mostly been up all night.
Phillip recounted the buildings from the top of the block to confirm this was place he was looking for, trotting along past it.
He slid from Daisy’s back and was eyeing the alley and outbuildings to find a place he could hunker down and watch the comings and goings when he saw a length of rags and sheets drop out of an open window on the second floor.
A young girl climbed over the sill and clung to the makeshift rope, beginning to shimmy down to the ground.
There was another girl in the window shouting to her.
“Go, Fanny! Run!”
Phillip ran back and jumped the rickety fence surrounding the property and hurried to the rope that did not meet the ground. “Jump. Jump, Fanny!”
She stared at him, terrified to come down and just as frightened when she looked up and saw her sister being pulled back into the room and a man’s arm reach down and start to pull up the rope.
“Jump! I’ll take you to Father Tom.”
The girl let go of the rope and dropped into Phillip’s arms. He pushed open the gate on the fence and ran down the alley to Daisy, hurriedly untying his reins from a hook on a nearby post. He put Fanny Button on the horse and climbed up behind her, hawing even before his right foot was in the stirrup.
He glanced over his shoulder to see two men running after them, one aiming a gun in their direction.
He crouched over Fanny and took his chances with the speed of his horse.
“They have Nora! You have to go back and get her!”
“Can’t. Not now, but I will. I’ve got to get you to safety first. Hold on tight!
” he shouted as he rounded the corner from the alley to the main street and saw a man standing there, waving his arms in the narrow opening, hoping, Phillip guessed, to frighten the horse.
Daisy never slowed. He barreled past him, even as the man made a wild grab for her bridle.
Phillip slowed Daisy as the traffic from horses and carriages increased on the main street.
He headed directly to Saint Vincent’s Church and Father Tom, carrying Fanny down the shaded walkway beside the stone buildings.
The priest was bent over pulling weeds from a small plot of rosebushes. Fanny jumped from Phillip’s arms.
“Father!” she shouted and ran to him, not stopping until she had wrapped her thin arms around the priest. He picked her up and held her close.
“Fanny! Dear Fanny! I thought we had lost you!”
Fanny turned and pointed at Phillip. “That man there found us, but he left Nora!”
Father Tom put her on her feet and held her hand. “I’m sure he had good reason. You are safe now, and we will keep you out of danger.”
“Where is Josephine? I could stay with her, couldn’t I? I don’t want to go back to Auntie’s. There’s never anything to eat. Please don’t make me!”
The priest glanced at Phillip.
“I don’t think she should stay here, Father,” Phillip said. “It’s the first place they’ll look.”
“I’m going to take her to the nuns. Their convent is outside of the city, and they run a school. She’ll be safe there until you can rescue Nora. Then we’ll have to consider a more permanent solution.”
Phillip nodded, knowing that the priest would be telling the child that her older sister was gone. “You should leave soon.”
Father nodded. “Come, Fanny. We’ll get Mr. Tate to take us in his wagon. It will be over an hour to get there.”
Phillip followed the two to a blacksmith’s shop two blocks away and watched the street.
The massive man did not hesitate to bring his horse and wagon to the front of his forge.
Father Tom and Fanny climbed in the back of the wagon and scooted down until the priest could pull a heavy canvas over the pair of them.
Fanny stared at him before lying down, willing him, he imagined, to rescue her sister.
Phillip was nearing Wolfe Street when O’Malley rode up beside him.
“Brown,” he said.
“O’Malley,” Phillip replied. Daisy sidled away from O’Malley’s horse, and Phillip had to struggle to get him reined in. “What brings you out to this side of town?”
“Had to talk to you,” O’Malley said after a long silence.
Phillip noticed O’Malley was white-faced and scanning the crowd, even occasionally looking over his shoulder. “What? What’s the matter, O’Malley?”
“I heard it was you that caused the commotion at Shelley’s.”
“I suppose you heard right if you think it’s a commotion to get a seven-year-old girl out of a whorehouse.”
O’Malley shrugged. “Whatever you think you did, you better watch your back and watch out for your sister too.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Hell, no. But there’s men who’d think nothing of slitting your throat, or Sarah’s for that matter.”
“Like Youngman? But not like Josephine Button, who was drugged and stabbed in the heart. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I’m risking my neck, Brown, just to give you this warning. Don’t be an ass. Stay out of it.”
“Who sent you?”
“Nobody sent me.”
“Who killed the Button woman and put Timothy in that bed with her?”
O’Malley’s face colored. “Why would you ask me that? I don’t know anything about it!”
“I don’t believe you. Your partner is neck deep in this whole thing. I saw a paper on his desk that day I was in your office. I’ve had two separate people tell me he is involved.”
“Just stay out of it, Brown. I’ve got a wife and children, and you’ve got family too. Just mind your own business.”
O’Malley began to turn his horse toward the cross street just as James Smythe, his partner, brought his horse beside him, fencing O’Malley in between himself and Phillip. Phillip made for the pistol in his coat pocket. Smythe leaned in front of O’Malley.
“You don’t want to be using a firearm on a busy street, do you, Brown? Could be dangerous for the regular folk just going about their business.”
“Probably right, Smythe. We don’t want violence in the middle of the street, do we?” Phillip replied.
The three men rode silently for a block or two until Phillip came to his turn toward Wolfe Street. He tipped his hat to O’Malley.
“Oh, Brown. I thought you might want to know. We’re hearing that Bruner is moving that Button girl from Shelly’s tomorrow night. Could just be a rumor, though. Best to stay far away,” Smythe said and turned his horse.
Phillip glanced at O’Malley, who was watching Smythe. “Good day to you, O’Malley.”
Phillip sat on his back porch stoop, staring straight ahead without really seeing anything.
There was no doubt in his mind that Smythe was setting a trap for him, and maybe for O’Malley too.
If he went alone, he would not come home.
This was their opportunity to kill him without witnesses.
If he took Uncle Patrick, and maybe others, then Sarah, Eliza, and Jenny would be alone to fend off intruders, and he could still very possibly die, as well as endanger his family and friends.
But if he didn’t get the girl away from Shelly’s, Timothy would die in jail or be hanged.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, only that his behind was getting sore and the wind was getting chilly.
“How long you going to sit out here, Phillip?” Uncle Patrick said.
“Just have some thinking to do.”
“Was coming home from the docks a bit ago. Saw you riding with that O’Malley boy and another brute of a man.”
Phillip nodded. “O’Malley’s a policeman up at Station Twelve.”
“Been a long time since we saw him. What did he want?”
“I’m not quite sure I want to talk to you about any of this. But I do need you to bring Miriam and Frank here tomorrow night and guard the house.”
“Where are you going to be?”
Phillip shook his head. “Leave it.”
“I’ll be damned if I’ll leave it, you stubborn fool. What is going on?”
Phillip was about to respond when he saw a closed carriage come down the alley.
“Who in the hell is that?” he said and stood as the carriage stopped at the end of the yard.
“Best get in the house.” A large man jumped down from beside the driver and looked at Phillip through the dusk shadows. “Is that Thomas?”
“Thomas who?” Uncle Patrick said.
“Irene Littleman’s man.”
He stood waiting at the end of the yard, arms crossed. Phillip walked toward the carriage and Thomas. “McDonald?”
The big man nodded. “Missus wants a word.”
Phillip went to the carriage as the shade was drawn up. Littleman peered out the window. “Mrs. Littleman. To what do I owe this visit?”
“Saving you, no doubt. I like that Wiest girl and her stepmama. And it’s clear she likes you, although I don’t see why.”
“Saving me from what?”
“It’s a trap, Brown. You fool,” Thomas whispered.
Uncle Patrick had wandered to the end of the yard, and Phillip knew he was listening to every word.
“Who’s that?” Littleman asked.
“My uncle. Patrick Brown.”