Bless the Bride (Molly Murphy, #10)

“But I must. I must make sure her bones are taken back to China or she will never rest.”


“You were raised by Christian nuns, Bo Kei,” I said. “Surely you believe that her soul has gone up to heaven. It doesn’t matter what happens to her bones.”

“But Chinese believe bones must be buried with ancestors or ghosts will walk without home.” She shook her head, sending out a spray of tears. “All my fault. I should never leave her behind when I come here. I beg you to bring her along, but you say no.”

“Bo Kei, I couldn’t risk bringing a dreadful disease like consumption into my friends’ home. You have to understand that. I was trying to do my best to save you. I should have left well enough alone.”

“Yes,” she said. “If I had been with Annie, maybe she would still be alive.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean maybe she doesn’t die from this wasting disease. New York is dangerous place. Perhaps bad men find her.”

“What bad men are you talking about?”

I stared at her. She shrugged. “Plenty bad men in New York,” she said.

I wasn’t quite sure where this was going. “But she didn’t run away from the brothel, did she? She was thrown out because of her disease.”

“Yes, but…” She hesitated, chewing on her lip. I sensed that she wanted to tell me more, but was afraid to.

It’s not your business. Don’t get involved. The words boomed through my head. As usual I ignored them.

“I’ll go to the settlement house, if you like,” I said. “I can find out for you what will happen to her body and where she’ll be buried.”

“Okay.” She nodded, defeated. “You tell them I must know where they bury her, because one day it is my duty, as family member, to take her home to our village in China.”

“I’ll tell them that,” I said, thinking that it was most likely that poor Annie would be buried in the potter’s field with all the others who couldn’t afford a proper funeral. I went across to Gus’s studio and poked my head around the door. Gus was sitting with her back to me, facing a canvas covered in a bewildering array of dots.

“What do you think?” she asked. “I’m trying the new pointillist style. It really captures the essence of the scene, don’t you think?”

I actually thought it looked like a child with bad chicken pox, but I nodded politely. “Definitely,” I said. “Could I possibly interrupt and ask you to come downstairs for a minute. I want to talk to you and Gus.”

She followed me, intrigued. I sat with them in the kitchen and told them everything. “So you see,” I finished, “we might be harboring a murderer. I’m deeply sorry I have involved you in this. It’s your house. You tell me what you want to do with her. I’m going back to the settlement house now. I can take her with me if you want me to.”

“People in this country are innocent until proven guilty,” Sid said. “What does she have to say for herself?”

“Of course she pleads innocence, most emphatically—but she would, wouldn’t she?”

Sid glanced at Gus. “I think she should stay put for now. At least until we have thought this through.”

Gus turned to me. “And I think you should come clean with Daniel. Tell him the whole thing. He may have qualities of which I don’t approve, but I think he’s fair and straight.”

“Tell Daniel?” I felt my stomach twist itself into a knot. I could just imagine what he’d say when he found out that I had hidden the woman the police were searching for.

“He’s the only one who can decide what to do with her. We’re just not equipped to do so, Molly.” She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I know you mean well. I know you wanted to help, but if you really think she may have killed this Chinaman, then we really shouldn’t keep on hiding her.”

I sighed. “I know. And you’re right. I should come clean with Daniel. But I have to tell you I’m dreading the thought.”

“Nonsense,” Sid said. “You’re a responsible adult, Molly. You did what you thought was best. If he doesn’t like it, then tough luck.” She put her hands on my shoulders. “If you don’t stand up to him now, he’ll walk all over you. I’ve seen it so many times—a strong, bright girl gets married and soon she’s reduced to a quivering, helpless little jelly, trying to please her bully of a husband.”

I had to laugh at this. “I can’t see myself ever being reduced to a quivering jelly,” I said.

“But if you’re frightened of facing him and telling him the truth, that’s the first step on that road.”

“I suppose I feel guilty because I went behind his back and kept on with the investigation,” I said. “But you’re right—if we can’t face each other as equals, what sort of life do I have ahead of me?”

“Just tell him that. And if he tries to bully you, tell him you’ll call off the wedding,” Sid said.

I stared at her. “I couldn’t do that.”