“The deal, as I remember it, was for me to ferret out the spy. I have done so.”
“Give me the girl’s name then, Miss Murphy and I will hand it over to the police.”
“You’d have a hard time proving anything, Mr. Mostel. The evidence went up in flames in the fire—the fire started by your inadequate and ancient heating system, I might add.”
He spread his hands again, a little happier now. “With no evidence, you expect me to pay you?”
I nodded. “Because I can guarantee that it will never happen to you again.”
“Of course it will never happen to me again. I’ll be over in Brooklyn.”
“And I can tell you how it was done, so that you’ll know what to look out for next time.”
“Ah.” He paused.
“And I think you would like your family to consider you a man of his word,” I added for good measure.
Another pause then a heavy sigh. “Very well, Miss Murphy. If you wish to take the last penny from my starving children, go ahead. Ruin me. I’ll be sending you a check if you care to present your bill.”
“If you’d be good enough to provide paper and ink, I’ll be happy to write you a bill on the spot, Mr. Mostel, and then you won’t have the inconvenience of having to mail me a check.”
He got to his feet reluctantly. “Very well, Miss Murphy. If you’ll wait one moment.”
I waited and he returned with a portable lap desk on which were paper and ink. I wrote, “To Molly Murphy of J. P. Riley and Associates. For services to unmask a spy at Mostel’s garment factory $100.”
Mostel stared at it. “Did we agree on one hundred, Miss Murphy?”
“We did, Mr. Mostel, as I think you very well remember.”
“Since you say yourself you have no evidence, the job is only half finished, wouldn’t you say? Shall we settle on fifty?”
“One hundred, Mr. Mostel.”
“You’ll be the ruin of me, Miss Murphy.” He took out a checkbook then froze with his hand held about the check.
“So how did she do it, Miss Murphy?”
“She was a girl nobody would have suspected—quiet, unobtrusive, so well behaved that when she asked to go to the washroom your foreman never objected. She had a sister who worked for Lowenstein, and she had studied art. It only took her a second or two to copy your sketches. She’s a very competent artist, in fact you could do worse than employ her to help you with your designs.”
“I’d never employ someone I couldn’t trust,” he said. “In fact I’m shocked that one of my girls could betray me so easily, after I treated them like a father. It goes straight to my heart, Miss Murphy.”
I struggled with wanting to tell him the truth about his factory and ensuring that I received my payment. “If you’re going to reopen your factory, Mr. Mostel,” I said at last, “may I suggest that you make the conditions bearable for your employees. And relax your rule about not hiring members of the same family. Then they won’t be tempted to betray you.” Then, as his hand was still poised above that check, “It was one hundred dollars, Mr. Mostel.”
I watched as he filled in the check with bold, black strokes. He blotted it then handed it to me. “Don’t let it be said that Max Mostel doesn’t keep his word.”
“Thank you.” I put the check into my purse and rose from my seat.
“Good-bye, Mr. Mostel.” I held out my hand to him. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”
“Good-bye, Miss Murphy.”
He escorted me personally to the door.
Twenty-eight
With a light heart and one hundred dollars in my purse I jumped on the trolley back to the Lower East Side and presented myself at Jacob’s apartment on Rivington Street.
“Is everything all right?” he asked in a worried voice.
“Couldn’t be better. Look at this—a check for one hundred dollars. You can come to the bank with me and watch me deposit it and then I’m going to take you out to lunch. But I also have an ulterior motive—” I laughed at Jacob’s expression. “I’ve come for help.” I breezed past him into the apartment. “I think I should tell my story to the newspapers—how we escaped from the fire, as told by a garment worker. It might help raise public awareness of the abuses in the garment industry. It was a pity you didn’t bring your camera with you that day.”
He gave an embarrassed smile. “I did have my little Kodak in my pocket but I was too concerned about you to remember to use it.”
“Oh, Jacob. You are so sweet.” I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“So when shall we get married?” His hands tightened around my waist.
“Why rush into something so important? Let’s enjoy each other’s company for a while and get to know each other better.”
“Very well, although I made up my mind the moment I saw you.”
“You were desperate to beat the matchmaker who would have saddled you with a boring, respectable, religious girl,” I teased.