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

He was trying to kiss me, trying to grope at my bosoms. I was trying to make sure he did neither. Suddenly the door burst open and Nuala stood there, her vast shape blocking the doorway like an avenging angel.

"I knew it," she boomed. "I knew that girl was no better than she should be. I'm away five minutes and already she's leading my husband into temptation."

Finbar had dropped me like a hot iron at the sound of her voice. "I'm so sorry, my dear. I never meant any harm. I didn't know what I was doing."

"Of course, you didn't. She egged you on with her loose ways. I could tell it the moment I saw her."

"Just a minute," I interrupted, attempting to straighten my attire. "I did nothing to encourage his advances. I was fighting him off."

But Nuala was obviously not listening. She strode across the room, picked up my bundle, and thrust it at me. "Out of my house this instant, you hussy. Go on, get out with you and don't let me see you again you--you husband stealer, you home wrecker!"

"Don't worry, I'm going!" I yelled back. "I wouldn't stay in this hovel another second if you paid me. It's a wonder I haven't already caught the plague from this pigsty of a place. You should be locked up for trying to raise children in this filth. And I don't wonder your husband turns to other women for solace, either, when he's stuck with a bullying dragon like you for a wife!"

I grabbed my bundle and dodged as she swung a broomstick at me. "And that's about the only time that broom will be used in the next ten years!" I shouted up the stairs.

It was only as I opened the front door and was met by an icy blast of wind that I fully realized what had just happened. I was alone, in New York, at night, with no money and nowhere to go.

I thought of hanging around, waiting for Seamus to return from his work. At least maybe he could lend me enough money to find a room and something to eat. But my pride wouldn't let me. That was close to begging and Molly Murphy would never sink to that. I struck out into the darkness. There was a market in full swing on Hester Street--a Jewish market by the look of things. I lingered by the baked potato stand, enjoying the warmth of the brazier until the stall owner demanded, "Vell--you goin' to buy something or not?"

I moved among the crowd. The combined warmth of other people made it somehow less lonely. I had no idea where I was going next. Before long the market would end, the people would all go home, and I'd have to find somewhere to spend the night. The plush parlor

at the brothel somehow didn't seem like such a bad proposition, after all. I made my way to the Bowery and visited each of the eating and drinking establishments in turn, asking if they needed any extra help in the kitchens. Nobody did. One of them made a suggestion that was not unlike Madame Angelique's. I moved on. Was there no employment in this town except for fish gutting and prostitution? If I could survive the night, I'd have to swallow my pride and go to the fish market in the morning, although probably that job was closed to me also, if Nuala was there to spread her poison.

I walked until I couldn't walk any more. One by one the gas lamps in the stores were extinguished. The last customers hurried home, wrapping scarves around their faces against the cold wind. The well heeled among them climbed into cabs and clattered away to unknown warm living rooms and roaring fires. At last I was the only person on the street. I tried a couple of churches, in the hope that they remained open all night, but they were firmly locked. I thought back to Ellis Island and it hovered in my memory as a haven of warmth and security. I was just trying a last church, for good luck, when I heard a voice behind me.

"It's no good trying to get in there, miss. They have to lock churches at night in a godforsaken city like this. You'd better come with me." It was a policeman, a chubby, middle-aged man with a round, innocent Irish face.

"I didn't mean any harm," I said as he took my arm and started to lead me away. "I wasn't trying to steal anything. I was just trying to find a place out of the wind."

"Just arrived, have you?"

"Yes, a couple of days ago. I thought I had somewhere to stay, but I wasn't wanted there."

We turned the corner and I recognized where he was taking me. "Not the Tombs," I exclaimed. "Look, I haven't done anything. Captain Sullivan himself made sure I wasn't sent to the Tombs."

"Captain Sullivan?" he looked interested. "What's this about Captain Sullivan?"

"He questioned me about that murder on Ellis Island," I said. "But now he knows I had nothing to do with it, I'm sure. Ask him. He can

tell you about me."

"Hold your horses, young woman," the policeman said, gripping my arm more firmly. "Nobody said anything about the Tombs and I'm sure I don't think you're New York's most wanted criminal. 'Tis the shelter next door where I'm taking you. The police shelter. You can spend the night there, if you've nowhere else to go. Stay out on the streets and you'll freeze, if you don't get your throat cut first."