Chapter Twenty-Five #2
For a moment, Vivian almost stopped breathing.
Then the man lifted his chin enough for her to see his face before gesturing with his head for them to follow as he ducked into the alley.
Grabbing Florence’s hand, Vivian followed him as fast as she could without running, keeping her head turned away from the store across the street in the hope that no one would glance out and see them.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, while Florence looked around the alley uneasily. “What are they doing here?”
“I don’t know,” Leo said, glancing across the street where two officers were just entering the shop. “That’s what I’m here to find out. And I wanted to try to catch you two girls first.”
“How did you know they’d be here?” Florence asked, eyes wide and worried.
“Police use the radio like everyone else these days,” Leo said with a shrug. “If you know what station they broadcast on, it’s easy to listen in. Dispatcher gives out addresses where they need someone to go. I recognized this one.”
“Should we … we have to go to work, don’t we?” Florence asked, wringing her hands. Vivian waited for the lecture that she was sure was coming, but it didn’t come.
“I don’t think you should,” Leo said, his expression very serious as he looked at Vivian. “I hate the thought of you taking a risk like that.”
“I already took the risk,” Vivian said quietly.
“These are just the consequences. And we don’t know for sure anything is happening.
” She peered out of the alley. “Doesn’t seem to be any sort of big commotion, so they might not be here looking for anyone specific.
And if they are, it’ll look worse if we don’t show up. ”
“It will, won’t it?” Florence sighed. Her hands were trembling, but she squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. “Come on, Vivi. We’ve been through worse.”
Vivian glanced at Leo again. “Can you stick around for a bit?”
“Sure thing. If I see you get carted off…” He had been trying to smile, but it didn’t quite take, and he cleared his throat. Apparently that was a joke even Leo couldn’t make. “If I see anything happen, I’ll do what I can to get you out of it.”
“Thanks,” Vivian said, squeezing his arm. “You’re a peach.”
“Thank you,” Florence echoed faintly. She reached out to take Vivian’s hand and held it tightly for a brief, comforting moment. Then they crossed the street together.
Heads turned to glance their way when they came in, but no one jumped up or pointed at them, and they weren’t immediately arrested.
The shop was in disarray, Miss Ethel fluttering her hands and her workers standing around as though they didn’t know what to do with themselves.
Vivian tried not to look too obviously relieved as she and Florence scooted their way back to where the other girls were clustered and waiting, all of them, she was glad to see, looking just as confused as she felt.
The commotion was caused by two different groups.
At the front, a team of workers was repairing the door, which had been boarded up, and replacing it with a new one that lacked a window.
But heading toward the basement were two police officers, flashlights in hand and grim expressions on their faces.
“I told Mrs. Blake that the dress disappeared the night of the robbery,” Miss Ethel protested, wringing her hands and trying to stand in their way. “I don’t see why she’s … Why do you have to shut down my store?”
“To do a full investigation,” one of them said. Vivian held back a quiet gasp. She recognized that gruff voice. “We can’t do that if the place is swarming with customers. Or with your girls, there,” he added, gesturing toward the huddle of anxious-looking workers.
“But there are very expensive materials stored down there,” Miss Ethel protested, still trying to block their path. “And with the window broken up front, surely the basement isn’t—”
“It pays to be thorough,” said the other officer, his deep voice just as familiar as his partner’s. “So we’ll need you to stand aside. Unless there’s some reason you don’t want us down there?”
Miss Ethel sighed, pulling out a lacy handkerchief to pat at her flushed cheeks. “Just please be careful of my stock. I cannot afford to have anything else damaged.”
“In fact, it would be better if you sent all these girls home,” Deep Voice said. “Easier for us to work if it’s less crowded.”
His eyes drifted over the seamstresses clustered at the back of the shop. Vivian tried not to flinch as his eyes fixed on her before sliding to Florence. He hadn’t seen her that night, she reminded herself. There was no chance of him recognizing her. Leo, on the other hand …
“But my business—” Miss Ethel threw up her hands.
“Very well. Go home, girls. No work for the next few days while these gentlemen do their investigating. We’ll reopen when they say we might.
If there’s anything to reopen when all my customers realize their orders will be late,” she added acidly, glaring at the two officers.
A murmur of worry ran through the shop’s workers, and Florence gave Vivian a panicked look. Vivian felt sick as she glanced at the girls around her. If her theft cost them all their livelihoods …
“And I’m not running a charity here,” Miss Ethel continued.
“You’ll be paid for the hours you work, not the ones you sit at home.
And Vivian.” Her tone became sharp, but she looked almost pleased.
“You have deliveries to make. If you were still a seamstress, perhaps you could have a holiday with the other girls.” Her tone was mocking, but underlying it was a hint of satisfaction.
As much as Vivian bristled at it, she couldn’t quite blame her for finding her triumphs where she could. She was already a mess of nerves and guilt—they hadn’t left anything in the cellar, had they?—so she kept her head down and nodded obediently. “Of course, Miss Ethel. Right away.”
There were three dress boxes on the counter, wide and flat and unwieldy.
But Vivian didn’t complain as she juggled them into place.
The other girls were talking quietly as they gathered their things, wondering what the officers might find and what they would do if the store couldn’t reopen.
Florence kept darting nervous glances at the police, followed by one too many glances at her sister for Vivian’s comfort.
Clearing her throat to catch Florence’s attention, she jerked her head toward the door, and Florence, after a last nervous look and gulp, hurried out.
“It doesn’t help if you keep looking at me like I’m a criminal,” Vivian muttered as they crossed the street, drifting away from the other girls.
“I’m sorry,” Florence whispered back. “I’m just not used to … They’re not going to find anything, are they?”
“Of course not,” Vivian said, with more confidence than she felt. “Nothing to find.” She glanced around. “Are you going to be okay heading back downtown on your own?”
“Are you going to be safe doing deliveries on your own?” Florence countered as they paused in front of the alley. “I know you said you took care of everything, but…”
“Let’s walk, girls.” Leo’s voice was quiet as he fell in step beside them. “It never pays to linger when there are cops around.”
“Pull your hat down a bit more,” Vivian whispered. “The two cops in there might have a good reason to remember you.”
Leo followed her suggestion instantly. “Now, where are you girls headed?”
There was a drugstore not far away with a telephone booth inside; Leo insisted that they call Danny to let him know Florence was on her way back. “And don’t make any stops on the way,” Vivian cautioned as they waited for Florence’s subway train. “No sense taking any chances.”
“And what about you?”
“I’ll go with you while you do your deliveries,” Leo said quickly. “Sound okay, Viv?”
“Fine by me,” she agreed. Two sets of eyes were better than one. And while she didn’t like the idea of Florence going off on her own, Danny would meet her at the subway stop to make sure she got back safely.
She didn’t mention the Fitz Special currently tucked into her purse. There was no reason to make Florence worry any more than she already was.
“All right.” Once Florence was gone, Leo took the boxes from Vivian’s arms. “Where are we heading first?”
“Upper East Side.” Vivian rolled her eyes. “It’s almost always Upper East Side.”
“Great.” Leo smiled. “Assuming we don’t get murdered on the way, that means I can take you to lunch once these are off our hands.”
“Sounds swell.” Vivian couldn’t quite match his lighthearted tone. “A few things happened last night that you might want to know.”
“Pearlie?” Leo’s fork hung frozen in mid-air as he stared at her. “Pearlie was writing those letters?”
“The original ones.” Vivian nodded as she poked at her lunch.
The place Leo had brought her was a cute little diner run by a Polish couple, both of them gray-haired and red-cheeked.
The food was good, but thinking about Bea’s face the night before had left her feeling like there was a pit in the bottom of her stomach, and eating just made it worse.
She put her own fork down and leaned toward him.
“And now there’s apparently cops involved?
It gives me the shivers. I want to think that since they got the dress, and I didn’t see who they were, they’ll leave us alone now. But how can I be sure?”
“It makes sense,” Leo said, pushing his mostly empty plate away and setting his elbows on the counter where they were seated.
The server was several feet away, helping another customer, and most of the other folks in the restaurant were at tables instead of the counter.
But he still lowered his voice even further.
“Someone got rid of that brandy bottle. The only people who could get close enough to evidence to do that either work at Bellevue or for the police.”