Murphy's Law (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #1)

"You're despicable," I said. "If you're thinking that I'd pay you a penny--"

"But if you don't, you'll never be safe, will you? And I tell you what, if you play your cards right, you won't have to pay the cost of a room. Because I'm thinking that life could be terrible lonely for a man in a big new country. And terrible cold nights, too. A man needs a warm body at night beside him, and you've as fine a little warm body as I've ever laid eyes on."

That awful hooded leer again.

"Not if you were the last man in America," I said. I wrenched my wrist free of him. "So go ahead and do your worst, Mr. O'Malley. You might find it's you who gets sent back as a troublemaker and a liar!"

I shoved him away from me and ran down the hall to my bunk. Let him do his worst, I kept telling myself. Why should anyone believe him? But my heart was pounding. Somehow I had to get through tomorrow and deliver these children to their father. I'd come this far. I wasn't going to let myself be beaten by the likes of O'Malley.

Six

Next morning we were woken early, given mugs of coffee, and shepherded up to the deck, where they pinned labels to our clothes, like so many pieces of luggage. The tags bore our names and the name of the ship we'd arrived on. I suppose they had to do this for all the people who couldn't read or write, but it was all I could do to keep my mouth shut about the indignity. I had to remind myself that today was probably the most important day of my life. What happened to me today would change the outcome of my whole future. I couldn't afford to make any slips. I had studied all the details on Kathleen's form until I knew her family particulars by heart. Now I just had to make sure I was in the line ahead of O'Malley and safely through before he got near the inspectors. I had even toyed with various stories in my own defense--my favorite being the jilted lover who would say anything to make sure I didn't join my beloved husband again. Enough people had seen me slap his face on the ship to bring credibility to that story!

We were jostled across the deck, down a gangplank, and finally onto a ferry boat that had moored alongside. They kept on loading until we stood there like a lot of sardines, packed so tight that we couldn't turn around. Bridie started to cry.

"They're pushing me. I want to go home." "But your daddy's waiting for us," I whispered. "In a little while we'll be going home with him, and you'll be warm and have good things to eat. ..."

And what would I be doing? Would I just deliver the children and he'd say thanks and I'd be off on my own, trying to find a place to sleep in New York City? I'd lived on my wits so far and everything had worked out. I'd just have to pray that it kept on doing so!

When the ferry was as fully loaded as possible we set off across the harbor, away from the city. After yesterday's winter sunshine, today was filled with dense, dank fog and the captain sounded our foghorn every few minutes, to be answered by neighboring mournful toots. The damp cold was worse than the brisk wind of the day before. It seemed to get into our very bones and we huddled together, shivering. After a freezing half hour, grateful for the warmth of the other bodies around us, we saw a

large red building looming out of the fog. A building in the middle of nowhere. It appeared to be floating on its own in the middle of the ocean.

"Ellis Island." The word went around the ferry and everyone jostled to try to get the first glimpse. It was imposing enough with its big brick arches and its shining copper turrets.

"It's brand-new," I heard one of the ferrymen say. "Only been open a couple of months. The old one burned down in 'ninety-seven. They've spent all this time and money building a new one."

It was then that I noticed we were not alone. A long line of ferries was waiting ahead of us, the first one docked and disgorging a steady stream of people.

"Four or five immigrant ships came in last night," the ferryman said. "We'll just have to wait our turn."

We waited and waited. It must have been past midday when we were allowed to dock. I tried to balance Bridie in one arm and my bundle in the other as we went ashore. Michael appeared at my side to take Seamus's hand and his bundle, too.

"Don't worry," he said, watching me glance over my shoulder as we came down the gangplank. "I'll drop back in the line as soon as you're safely ashore, so that you can clear immigration first and get the money back to me."

"It wasn't that," I said. "I was trying to see where O'Malley had gotten to."

"O'Malley? Has he been bothering you again?"

"Last night," I said. "Making stupid threats."

"If that man comes near you again, I'll kill him," Michael said, then blushed when he saw my surprised face. "I could, you know. I might look young but I've done my share of fighting."