"It's all right. I'm sure it's true." "Do you think you'll go back to him?"
I was so longing to tell him the truth. I'm free. I'm available. I'm yours for the asking. But he still had Michael Larkin locked in his jail. He was still the law.
"I'm not sure what will happen next," I said.
"Does he want you back? Do you still--I'm sorry, I should shut up. I've no right to pry."
This was becoming awkward. "If you'd hurry up and get this case sorted out, I could think about getting on with my life," I said. "It's like walking on eggshells. But at least I get the feeling that I'm not a suspect anymore--" I broke off as I realized something--"and Michael can't be your number one suspect, either. He was locked in your jail when poor Mr. Levy was killed last night. Won't you let him go now?"
"What is he to you?" Daniel asked.
"He's only a boy. Surely there's nothing more than--"
"Nothing more than concern for a friend, I assure you."
"I let him go, last night," Daniel said. "I came to the same conclusion. It seems that you and Michael being on the same ship as O'Malley was just a horrible coincidence."
"Thank you." A wave of relief swept over me, as if it were I who had been set free. In a way it was. "You don't happen to know where he is now?"
Daniel shrugged. "No idea. I'd imagine he spent the night in the police shelter. We have a place for indigents to sleep, next to the Tombs."
"Oh, really?" I pretended to be interested in finishing my roll. I wasn't going to let him know I had also spent the night there. "I'll try and track him down. And then I must find myself a job. Do you know how hard it is to get work in this city?"
"With your education I should have thought you could find employment as a governess. Although you'd have to live in and they probably wouldn't want a woman with children."
"But it's a thought," I said. "Better than the only things I've been offered so far." I refrained from mentioning that they were fish gutting and prostitution.
Daniel drained his coffee cup. "For my part I'd be very happy if you got yourself settled, preferably as far away as possible."
"Oh." It felt like a slap in the face. He wanted me out of his hair. I was a nuisance to him.
"You're still in danger, you know. Unless I make an official statement that I'm dropping the case, due to lack of evidence. And if Alderman McCormack is involved, I might just have to do that."
"I hate to let anyone get away with murder," I said. "I'd be prepared to take the chance for myself. You can't just leave someone out on the streets free to kill more people. And it's possible that he was the one who betrayed his friends in Ireland, too. Who let those boys all hang."
"Sometimes my job isn't pleasant," he said. "My hands are tied when I'd like to act. But I will send off to Ireland and get confirmation on the
alderman's background if that will keep you from doing any more stupid things."
"Don't worry. Now Michael's free,
I've done my part. I'm off job hunting."
I stood up and brushed the crumbs from my shawl. "Wish me luck."
"I wish you all the luck in the world," he said. I floated down the stairs.
Now I had some objective. A governess sounded like a good idea for a start. At least it would mean a roof over my head, enough to eat, and a place well away from the Bowery, should Boyle, or whoever it was, want to follow me again. I went back to the hostel and asked the ladies how I should set about it. They were instantly helpful. A governess was the sort of profession of which they approved-- suitably humble and austere.
"There is a very trustworthy Christian agency on Park Avenue that specializes in placing domestic employees. Some of our more refined and educated girls have found an entr@ee into domestic service there. Put on a fresh white blouse before you go. They are very strict about appearance. And of course you'll have your references from home with you."
Of course I would. I went back to the dormitory to change into the one white blouse I had luckily brought with me, to spruce myself up, also to write myself a couple of glowing references on notepaper I had stolen from the office downstairs. I decided that the occasion warranted that I didn't arrive looking hot and disheveled, so I wasted five cents on the elevated railway up Third Avenue. What a wonderfully exciting view of the city it was, peering into all those windows as we went past. It was interesting to watch packed tenements give way to streets with trees in them, then to squares and parks and tall brownstones. I was truly going uptown! I was bubbling with energy. Soon I'd have a good job and I'd be able to start on the next stage of my life.
I found the agency, among smart dress shops and professional offices just off Park Avenue. A middle-aged woman in a severe high-necked black dress, her graying hair scragged back into a high bun, was seated at the desk. She looked a little like Queen Victoria on the old pennies, and just as little likely to be amused.
Murphy's Law (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #1)
Rhys Bowen's books
- Malice at the Palace (The Royal Spyness Series Book 9)
- Bless the Bride (Molly Murphy, #10)
- City of Darkness and Light (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #13)
- Death of Riley (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #2)
- For the Love of Mike (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #3)
- Hush Now, Don't You Cry (Molly Murphy, #11)
- In a Gilded Cage (Molly Murphy, #8)
- In Dublin's Fair City (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #6)
- In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)