“Please be careful, then,” I begged.
“We will,” Gus said. “Let's think up a plausible reason for wanting to identify this man.”
“He owes me money,” Sid said, and laughed. “What could be more plausible in the Village.”
That evening we walked together to Schwab's. I insisted on coming along and they agreed because they didn't want to risk leaving me in the house alone. So I established myself at the window of a little cafe across the street while Sid and Gus entered Schwab's. It seemed like an eternity. More people went into the tavern but nobody came out. I drank three cups of coffee and still they didn't come. I began to worry that something might have happened to them. What if the whole of Emma's group was somehow involved, and they had set upon Sid and Gus? What if the barman was also involved and had forewarned the group? I was almost ready to brave the tavern myself, wondering what I could use for a weapon, when I saw them emerge and cross the street.
“Sorry it took a while,” Sid said. “We had to make it seem that we were being sociable.”
“Sid was brilliant,” Gus said. “She asked if Emma was still in New York because she had written the article she had promised for her journal. Of course then we were invited to join them and we were able to bring the photo into conversation most casually.”
“You'd have been proud of us, Molly. First-class detectives, that's what we were.”
“And you found out who he was?”
“We did, but it took a while. He doesn't live in New York City. He's shown up a couple of times before, but nobody really knows him. He's not one of their group, anyway. Not one of the comrades. In fact, they have been a little suspicious of him themselves. Nobody even knew his name, but finally someone thought that he was called Soulguts.”
“Soulguts? What an extraordinary name. And do they know where we might find him?”
“Someone thought he might be staying at a boardinghouse down by the docks. On Barrow Street, they think.”
“Barrow Street?” It had to be O'Shaunessey's. I almost laughed at the irony. He was rooming in Paddy's old boardinghouse. “I know the one,” I said. “I've been there before.”
“So will you go to the police now?” Gus asked. “They can go there and arrest him.”
Darkness had fallen. Rain was threatening again. “In the morning,” I said. “I'll go to the police in the morning.”
“Molly—you're putting off the evil hour,” Sid said, taking my arm. “What do you have against the police, apart from the fact that they are corrupt, violent and crooked?”
I laughed. “I have my reasons,” I said. “A captain of police, a friend of mine—a former friend of mine—forbade me to get involved with this murder. He's not going to be pleased.”
“He's not going to be pleased if your body turns up in the Hudson,” Gus said.
“I promised I'd go in the morning. But I can only give my information to my friend Daniel. I have my reasons.”
“This is damned exciting,” Sid said. “I feel like Holmes and Watson, don't you, Gus dearest?”
I didn't feel in the least like Holmes or Watson. I felt sick. I just wanted this whole mixed-up business over and done with, so that I could get on with my life. The thought of passing my evidence over to Daniel became more appealing by the minute.
The next morning, again Sid and Gus were determined to escort me to police headquarters. I was equally determined that they shouldn't. I didn't want them to meet Daniel and have to explain to them the story of my relationship with him. And I didn't want them to see Daniel giving me a good scolding either. So in the end they gave in to my pleas, having made me promise faithfully that I would walk straight to police headquarters, taking no detours along the way.
To tell the truth, I was dreading the encounter with Daniel. He was going to be so angry with me, and I, of course, still felt rather angry with him. Some of that anger was bound to come spilling out. I've never been known for my gentle nature and lack of temper. But I did agree that anything would be better than being stabbed.
I asked at the front desk for Captain Sullivan. The young constable disappeared, then returned. “He's on leave, ma'am. Taken a few days' leave over the holiday. Is the matter urgent? I can take down the particulars for you.”
“On leave?” I managed to sound calm. “Has he left town, do you know?”
He laughed. “I've no idea. I'm just a new constable here. I ain't privy to a captain's plans.”