For the Love of Mike (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #3)

“I watched the police hack strikers to death with their swords in Poland,” he said. “That is why I come to America. Now I see if democracy works or not.”


Jacob arrived, carrying his camera, and with him the young Russian from the cloak-makers’ union arrived and a couple of men I hadn’t met before. While the Russian was instructing the girls about passive resistance and not losing their tempers whatever was said to them, Jacob drew me aside. “I’ve been worrying about you all night,” he said.

“And I about you,” I replied. “I don’t suppose you slept any better than I did.”

“Hardly a wink. I could not shake off the awful feeling of guilt.”

“Jacob, you shouldn’t feel guilty. You admitted yourself that Nell was headstrong. She did what she pleased.”

“It’s not just that,” he said. “I feel guilty that she wanted more than friendship from me and I was unable to give it to her. I can’t help thinking that some of her bravado and daring were attempts to make me admire her.”

“Love doesn’t work that way,” I said. “You can’t choose when you fall in love. It just happens.”

“This is so true,” Jacob said, and his gaze held mine.

I smiled uneasily. “We have sterner things to occupy us this morning, I fear.”

“Yes. And I wish you weren’t involved in this matter, Molly. I don’t want you to be involved in more danger.”

“How can there be danger?” I demanded. “Look how many of us there are. You have your camera. You can take pictures and get public opinion on our side.”

“I intend to, but just in case—could you not go home?”

“Of course not. I’m one of these girls at the moment. I suffered with them in Lowenstein’s. Their conditions are intolerable, Jacob. They do deserve better, and they might need a spokeswoman who speaks English.”

“This Katherine you seek was a spokeswoman who spoke English,” he said, “and look what happened to her. Look what happened to Nell last night.”

“All right everybody. To your places,” Rose shouted. “And remember, we don’t scare easy. We are not going to be bullied, whatever they say. This is America. We have a right to strike here.”

“God bless America,” a voice from the crowd said and was echoed down the line.

I stepped into the line beside Rose. Jacob and the other men moved off to one side, where they could observe from a stoop. At around six thirty Mr. Katz arrived. He came striding down the street, his black derby at a jaunty angle on his head, and didn’t notice the line of girls until the last minute.

“What’s this?” he demanded.

Rose dug me in the side. “It should be fairly obvious, Mr. Katz,” I said. “We don’t like the way Lowenstein’s treats us. We’re on strike until our demands are met.”

He glared at me. “I should have known you were trouble. A rabble-rouser like all the damned Irish.”

“It was not I who instigated this strike,” I said. “All the girls feel the same. The place isn’t fit for a pig, it’s freezing cold, you cheat us out of our money by fining us, by charging us to use the washroom, and by turning back the hands on the clock too. Don’t think we haven’t seen you! And now you want to cut our wages in half because we worked too fast and finished the order. That was the final straw. It made the girls angry enough to walk out.”

Katz looked up and down the line. “Those of you who are stupid enough to listen to these troublemakers will find yourself out of a job and right before the holidays too. Just when you’ll be needing money for heat. And don’t think another firm will take you on, because they won’t. So it’s up to you. Get inside now and nothing more will be said. Stay out and you’re all fired.”

“And who’s going to make the new season’s dresses for you then, Mr. Katz?” Rose asked sweetly. “Won’t the designs be ready in a few days?”

“Don’t think we’ll have any trouble replacing you, Rose Levy. I’ll put out the word today and by tomorrow girls will be lining up from here to the Battery.”

“They can line up as long as they want,” Rose said, “but they are not going into this building. Neither are you.”

“You think you can stop me? A few little girls?” He laughed.

“Not just a few little girls,” Jacob said as he and his friends stepped from the shadows. “We are representatives of the United Hebrew Trades and the cloak-makers’ union. If necessary we will call out more of our members in support. We will provide a ring of steel around this place. So try your best, Mr. Foreman. You are wasting your time.”

Katz shot us a look of pure venom, then stalked away again.

“We’ve won! He’s going away!” one of the girls shouted.

“Don’t be silly,” Rose said. “This is just the beginning. He will be back with Mr. Lowenstein and they will do everything in their power to try to frighten us. But we will not give in. If we can hold out this time, then we’ll have made it better for every working girl in New York City.”