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

I was gazing up at those big buildings as I crossed the street. A blaring horn made me jump out of my skin as something low and sleek and powerful roared past me. So that was a motorcar! I stood watching it in admiration as it disappeared in a cloud of smoke. One day I'd have one of those, I decided, until I remembered that I was a criminal, on the run and not likely to be alive much longer if I didn't use my wits. At least I was in a big city now. I should be able to blend in with the thousands of Irish who lived here already. I'd get myself a job in a factory, find myself a room, and maybe I'd be just fine. Maybe.

I set off, wandering the back streets. I'd never even been in a city before--until yesterday in Belfast, of course, but Belfast wasn't half the size of this, and I'd been too frightened about getting caught to notice anything. I'd dreamed all my life of going to live in Dublin, or even London, in a fine house with my own carriage, and servants, lots of servants--always one for big dreams, I was, only they weren't exactly turning out the way I'd planned.

I soon decided that cities weren't all they were cracked up to be. Oh, to be sure, there were the grand houses along the waterfront, but a couple of streets back and it was a very different picture. Lots of gray, dirty streets with smoke hanging over them like a pall. It wasn't like the sweet, herby peat smoke of home. It turned the air brown, and the burned, bitter smell stuck in my nostrils.

I walked and walked. All those houses so close together--rows and rows of them crammed into the dark shadow behind the big wharf buildings. Tired, gray-looking women standing in doorways with babies on their hips. Hard-faced children playing in the streets. One of them threw a rock at me, then fled when I turned on him. I was suddenly feeling hungry but I had no money for food. First a job, then I eat, I told myself.

By the end of the day I was back in the dockside area, still hungry and still jobless. I'd found plenty of factories but they all had signs

outside saying, No Workers Needed or, even worse, No Irish Need Apply.

The gray morning had turned into a rainy afternoon, not the gentle refreshing rain of my home in county Mayo, but a soot-laden drizzle that painted dirty streaks down my cheeks and spattered my white cuffs. A bitter wind was blowing off the ocean. My feet were hurting me. I was cold, tired, and hungry. The fear that I'd managed to keep at bay until now was seeping through. They'd surely be looking for me by now. If I didn't find a place to hide they'd find me soon enough and then it would be all over. Exotic smells came from the tall wharf buildings, spices and scents that conjured up distant ports. Maybe I'd be lucky enough to find an open door and a place to sleep for the night. Maybe something to eat, too.

I was making my way down a narrow alley, trying one door after another when I looked back and saw blue uniforms and helmets behind me. Two policemen were following me. I threw my shawl over my head and quickened my pace, but their heavy footsteps echoed from the high brick walls as they came after me. The alley turned a corner. So did they. Then I saw that I was trapped. It was a blind alley--high walls were all around me and the only way out was blocked by those two policemen. A door on my right was open a crack, although no light shone out. I had to take my chances. I pushed it open and stepped inside.

Two

I found myself in a narrow front hall that smelled of boiled cabbage and drains. It seemed to be some kind of rooming house because there were notices all over the walls with house rules on them--no smoking, no drinking, no visitors, no animals, no cooking in the rooms. Next to that was a biblical text: Love thy Neighbor.

As I stood there, holding my breath and wondering what to do next, the front door opened and I found myself staring at the two policemen.

"One moment, miss," one of them said. "We'd like a word with you."

I decided to bluff it out. It wouldn't be the first time I got myself out of trouble by being brazen--of course, being brazen had also gotten me into trouble

plenty of times too, but I didn't have time to think about that.

I tossed back my head and put my hands on my hips. "I noticed you following me all the way down the street. Have you nothing better to do than follow decent factory girls on their way home from the mill, or am I to thank you for guarding my honor?"

They were still staring at me with cold, suspicious eyes. "Do you live here, miss?"

I've never been very good at outright lies. I suppose the beatings my ma and pa gave us for lying really did make a lasting impression.

"Not exactly, sir. I'm just visiting my--"

"We've been told to be on the lookout for a young woman who resembles--"

At that moment the door nearest me opened and a woman's face looked out. "Is that you at last, Siobhan?" she demanded, frowning at me. "Get inside here right away, you lazy thing, and no excuses this time."

She grabbed my sleeve and jerked me in her direction.

"You know this young woman?" one of the policemen asked.

"You think I'm not knowing my own sister?" the woman said. "I sent her out over an hour ago to get me the powder for my headaches and where's she been all this time I'd like to know. No concern for her sister's poor head, have you, you ungrateful creature?"