“Well, how is she?” Ned asked.
“A little better,” Emily said. “Starting to sit up and take solid food again.”
“Well, that’s good news. I must go and see her myself,” Ned said. “In my own time, of course,” he added, glancing back at his boss, then touched Emily’s arm. “And you have a visitor.”
Her face lit up. “Molly. You’re better. How splendid.”
“Your ministrations obviously did the trick,” I said. “I woke this morning feeling my old self again. So I’m anxious to get to work.”
“Work? What work?” Ned asked.
“Molly is a real live detective,” Emily said. “Have you two been introduced?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “Being a detective, I deduced that this young man might be Ned but he doesn’t know my name.”
“Oh, then let me introduce you now. Molly Murphy, this is Ned Tate.”
We shook hands. His hand was slim and elegant, with well-manicured fingernails. Obviously a young man who thought a lot of himself, I decided.
“Are you lunching with any of your other friends?” Ned asked. “Or is Molly not part of your rich socialite set?”
Emily laughed. “My rich socialite set? Just because some of my Vassar friends have married well doesn’t mean that I’m part of any rich set.”
“I only thought that your bosom pal Fanny whatever-her-name-is lived nearby and that you saw her frequently.”
“Fanny does live in the Dakota,” Emily said, “but I hardly see her frequently anymore. Our lives are so different now. She has all the time in the world and I have none. Speaking of which, my precious half hour is rapidly disappearing. Come, Molly, we must away. If you’ll excuse us, Ned.”
“I’ll leave you ladies to your luncheon then,” he said, with a polite bow. “I have to get back to work,” he added loudly for Mr. McPherson’s benefit.
“Too right you do,” Mr. McPherson said, looking up from his table. “Does Mrs. Hartmann require any more of the stomach powders?”
“No, she said she didn’t need anything,” Emily said. “She said she was on the mend.”
“Well, let’s hope she’ll be back at work soon. You young slackers don’t know the meaning of work.”
I followed Emily out of the shop.
“So what did you think of Ned?” Emily asked. Her eyes were shining.
“He is very handsome,” I said.
“Isn’t he just? And so smart too. It was my lucky day when I answered that advertisement in McPherson’s window.”
I couldn’t help wondering what it was about Emily that had caught Ned’s eye. Maybe I had misjudged him and he was more impressed with her intellect than her looks. He had certainly given me a once-over all right.
“I usually just go to the café across the street,” Emily said. “They have a ten-cent daily special that is sometimes quite good. And I only have one gas ring in my room so it’s hard to cook at home.”
“Fine with me,” I said. “As long as it’s quiet enough to talk.”
We dodged the traffic and went inside a pleasant little tea room called the Black Cat. I could see why Emily came here. The other occupants were women and the tables had white cloths on them—overall an air of gentility. The waitress greeted Emily and two plates of the special were brought. It was some kind of meat pie and cabbage, mainly hot and filling but with little flavor. Maybe I had become used to good meals with Sid and Gus.
After we had satisfied our immediate hunger I took out my little notebook. “So I’m anxious to get started on your case,” I said. “Let us begin with your parents’ full names.”
“I believe they were William and Mary,” she said. “I think that’s what Aunt Lydia told me.”
“And where in China were you born?”
“I have no idea. In the interior, that’s all I know.”
“What about your birth certificate? Doesn’t that give all those details?”
“I have no birth certificate,” she said. “That’s the problem. As I understand it, a cholera epidemic was raging when I was born. My parents died when I was only a few days old and a devoted servant whisked me away to safety. I was deposited at the nearest mission and eventually brought back to America.”
“What a romantic story,” I said. “Tragic, of course, but the fact that you survived against all odds is amazing.”
She nodded. “I know, isn’t it?”
“So where did your parents come from?”
“Massachusetts, I believe. As I said, Aunt Lydia, who could have told me these things, died when I was too young to ask the right questions, and Uncle Horace showed no interest in me whatever.”
“Your parents were your aunt’s relatives, then?”
“I believe my mother and Aunt Lydia were second cousins, or second cousins once removed. Not close relatives, at any rate.”
“And what was your aunt’s maiden name?”
“I’m afraid I don’t even know that.”
“That should be easy enough to discover. She died when you were five. There will be a death certificate.”