“I can’t let it worry me,” Nell said. “I do what I can to improve the lot of women. If I didn’t get enough to eat, I wouldn’t have the energy to accomplish what I do. And I see no sense in pretending to be poor.”
“And I only eat such meals as this when decadent friends invite me, Miss Murphy,” Jacob said. “Then I return to starve in my garret.”
“Only because you choose not to make money from your photographs,” Nell said, slapping his hand and laughing. “You know very well that you could be rich and famous and dine at all the best houses in town if you chose. You are a brilliant photographer. You just choose to photograph slums and strikes.”
“You’re right. We Russians don’t know how to live without suffering,” Jacob said, also smiling, and again his gaze strayed across to me. “Miss Murphy understands. She comes from Ireland where suffering is also the way of life.”
“Not exactly,” I said. “We are under the yolk of the English and live in squalor, but we still like to enjoy life. As long as we’ve music and a good swig of liquor, then we’re happy.”
“Is that all it takes to make you happy?” he asked. “Music and a good swig of liquor.”
“I didn’t say me,” I said, blushing at his teasing gaze now. “But we like good friends and good company too, and I’ll say amen to that.”
“When are you going to show us your photographs, Jacob?” Gus asked. “I’ve been dying to see inside a photographer’s studio.”
“You must come tomorrow then,” he said. “All of you. I shall be honored.”
“What fun. We accept,” Sid said. “Now, shall we try the hubble-bubble?” She indicated the water pipe.
“We have to work while our brains are still clear,” Nell said. “It was the reason we came, after all.”
I opened my purse and took out the photos.
“This is the Katherine I was looking for,” I said.
Nell studied it. Jacob came to look over her shoulder. They looked at each other and nodded. “It is the same girl,” Nell said.
I produced the picture of Katherine with Michael at her stirrup. “And this is the man she ran off with. His name is Michael Kelly. I have learned that he was involved with the Eastmans gang. But he too disappeared and the police think he might have been one of the unnamed men who have been killed in recent gang wars.”
“All too probable,” Nell said. “They lead violent lives. What else do you know?”
“Very little. I traced them to a boardinghouse on Division Street. They left that address without paying their rent about the same time that they disappeared.”
Sid came to join us. “If this Katherine is dead, as Molly has told us, then why are you still searching? Shouldn’t she just write to the parents and tell them the sad truth then forget the matter?”
“Nell and I believe, as Molly does, that Katherine would not have taken her own life,” Jacob said, glancing across at Nell for confirmation.
She nodded. “I only met her on a few occasions but I came to admire her. She had zest and fire. She was not going to let her current circumstances browbeat her.”
“Then I think we owe it to her to find out how she met her end,” Jacob said, “and who better to find out the truth than you, Nell? You know every back alley of this city.”
Gus put a hand on my shoulder. “Oh dear, Molly. You should never have met these people. Now you’ve found someone to encourage your wild schemes.”
“I don’t know that I agree with this one,” I said. “I can’t see how we can find out more than we know right now. The young woman pulled from the river is already buried in a pauper’s grave. And it would be impossible to find out if she went into the river willingly or was pushed.”
“Not impossible,” Jacob said, leaning closer. “If we know where the body was fished from the river and about how long it had been in the water, then we should be able to guess where she was thrown in. And if she was thrown in, then someone might have seen it happen.”
I looked at him with admiration. “And I thought I was supposed to be the investigator. You are far more suited to it than I, Mr. Singer.”
“Why so formal?” Gus said. “This is Greenwich Village. In this house we are on a first-name basis—no need for the restrictions of polite society. So it is Molly and Jacob and Nell. Is that clear?”
Jacob glanced across at me and smiled again. “If you permit then, Molly?”
“I shall be charmed, Jacob. And you too, Nell?” I included her hastily, just in case she thought I had any designs on her young man.