Louis looked up and saw a girl standing in the doorway staring at him. His heart leaped up to his throat and his face went red. For a brief second he thought it was his own daughter standing at the door. She bore a remarkable resemblance to Marie. It was as though something horrible had befallen Marie. Someone had kidnapped her and kept her in a cabin in the woods, and she had been underfed and forced to wear wretched, threadbare clothes. She was thinner than Marie, but not in a svelte and lithe manner. She looked malnourished. Her limbs and face seemed more angular than they should be. There were dark circles under her eyes. She had the same mountain of blond hair, the exact same color as Marie’s, but it was greasy and dirty. She had brushed it and put it up all by herself, and no one had ever fussed over it.
Louis always dressed Marie in the most expensive dresses. Her colorful clothes would have lit up the dark doorway. It would be like pulling curtains off a window and having the sunlight pour in. Marie always had the same effect that a large bouquet of flowers on a table would have. This girl was wearing the drabbest black coat. It didn’t even have the energy to be black. It was gray like a chalkboard that had a poem recently wiped off it with a brush. She had on a pair of black boots. One was tied with a piece of brown twine, the other with a skinny ribbon frayed at the edges.
The thing about the girl that was the most different from Marie, however, was the expression on her face. Marie always had a curious and sweet look. She regarded everyone with such softness, as though she were forgiving you for the most terrible crime. But the girl in the doorway had a nasty look. It shocked him. She undermined his confidence. Her eyes animated all his repressed feelings of self-hatred. This was why girls had to have so much training and education about their expressions.
For a moment he felt ashamed that he had mistaken this impoverished child for his own Marie. She had shown up in the doorway like the ghost of his daughter. He would honestly rather Agatha sat straight up, pulled the flowers out of her hair and the cotton out of her mouth and say, How do you do? than see this girl.
There was no chance he would ever let her step across his threshold.
He handed the parents a large envelope of cash, promised a job for Mary in his factory, and swore the girl who had killed their daughter would be punished. In return, they were to keep quiet about the whole event.
CHAPTER 8
Sadie Is Exiled
Louis really hadn’t given Sadie very much thought before this terrible incident. He didn’t see any of Marie’s friends as being particularly different from the maids. He considered Marie to be so far above everyone. All her friends were interchangeable. Marie often took a fancy to a girl for a short period of time. The nature of Marie’s strong passions caused each girl to believe herself singular in Marie’s affections. Then she would grow very bored of them and choose not to see them again. The girl would always be replaced by another.
He wasn’t fussy about who she spent time with. He didn’t care if it was a maid or if it was a girl from a well-to-do family. He did, however, notice that Marie had a particular affection for the dark-haired girl who was an Arnett. They seemed to be together all the time.
He was surprised the Arnetts were willing to sacrifice their daughter so quickly and easily after the shooting. He understood for a moment the effect his wealth had on other people. It made them bend to his will before he asked them to. And before he even thought about it. It was peculiar to have your needs met before the desire manifested. The Arnetts had figured out what he needed them to do. He hadn’t dared to think about it. If any questions were asked about the dead woman, the shadow of a doubt had to be cast on someone. The Arnetts would let it fall on Sadie.
Louis had immediately paid money to the coroner to say there was one bullet. And with that, a child was framed.
* * *
Of course, the event was hushed up. What in the world was anyone supposed to do with two murderesses, especially when they had murdered a servant? They couldn’t actually put them in prison. They were much too well dressed. And to hold them responsible for such a grandiose crime might give women ideas of their own importance.
But Sadie had to be sent away. It was decided she would attend a boarding school for difficult girls in the English countryside outside of London. By separating Marie and Sadie, they would never be able to speak of this crime again. If you cannot discuss a crime with someone, then you cannot be sure it exists. It disappears into memory. It was also the excuse Sadie’s mother had been waiting for to send her away. Sadie’s father was struggling with his career in politics, getting very close to being very important, and she knew deep down that her daughter would destroy it one day.
* * *
When Sadie learned she was being sent to a boarding school filled with difficult girls in England, she was frightened. She knew the girls in the Golden Mile were no match for her condescension, but these ones might put her in her place. Sadie began to pack reluctantly, putting some books in her traveling bag. Her mother said it was not a wise idea to pack books, because they were so heavy. She wasn’t sure why her mother was making her pack so light. It was as though she wanted her to know that she no longer had a right to anything in this world. She did not have a right to the clothes in her closet. She did not have a right to all the elaborate toys in the nursery she had outgrown. She felt as though the child who had grown up in the nursery wasn’t her at all. It was a different identity she had no right to anymore.
She was a little girl without a family. And although she’d had an innate intolerance for her family, she could not help but be terrified. In the carriage on the way to the dock, seated between her mother and a maid, Sadie began to shake uncontrollably. She did not want to get on the ship. She could not even picture anything that was on the other side of the ocean. The idea of the ocean was too overwhelming. She found she could only equate it with death. Wasn’t that what death was? The great unknown?
She followed her mother as she walked toward the ship. Just as they reached the ramp, Sadie felt her stomach sink violently. This was the time for revenge against her mother for abandoning her. The only way to achieve it was to perform indifference. She didn’t believe it would be difficult to do, because she believed her indifference to be genuine. And she had counted on it. And yet it was at this moment that she debased herself. Like most moments of debasement, it came on without any warning. She found herself sitting on her trunk stubbornly, wailing and begging.
“Please don’t send me away. I don’t want to go. I’m afraid. I love you. I want to stay home. Mama. Mama. Mama. Say you forgive me. I don’t know why I did it. I promise I’ll change. I’m sorry if I was rude. If I wasn’t nice enough to Philip.”
Sadie was shocked by her own actions. They didn’t even seem to be in keeping with her personality. She was appalled by her own behavior. She was reacting the way another child would react. She was reacting the way an ordinary child would react. She was reacting the way an ordinary child who was being abandoned by their mother would react.