I wrote another note for Jack, giving him my address and telling him how to find it. “Come and see me as soon as you read this,” I wrote. “I am most concerned about your safety.”
Then I propped it on the table where he couldn’t miss it. But I found that I couldn’t leave. He’ll be back later, I told myself. He’s waiting until it’s dark so that he’s not so conspicuous. I went into the kitchen and noted that Mrs. O’Shea had brought eggs, as well as a bowl of that broth she had made for her sister. I could stay and make Jack an omelet when he returned. Looking at the food made me feel peckish myself so I had some of that broth, plus a boiled egg and some bread cut into soldiers to go with it. It was strangely comforting to be sitting at the table, dipping fingers of bread into egg yolk, as if I was a small child again.
But I finished the egg, washed up, and still he didn’t come. Daylight started to fade, and reluctantly I decided that I would have to leave. Chelsea was one of the safer parts of the city and Twenty-third was a major street, but no woman was out alone after dark by choice.
A shrill ringing made my heart almost leap out of my mouth. It was coming from the wall in the corner. For a moment I thought it was an electric doorbell, then I saw the telephone hanging there. I had forgotten until now that Daniel owned a telephone, not being used to such a contraption myself. I stood there staring at it while it continued to ring. Should I answer it? What if it was Gentleman Jack, attempting to make contact? I took a deep breath and lifted the receiver with a shaky hand.
“Hello?” I said.
“Have I been given the wrong number?” a brisk woman’s voice demanded. I detected a trace of an Irish accent. “It’s Captain Sullivan’s residence I’m wanting.”
“I’m afraid Captain Sullivan isn’t here at the moment,” I said. “Who is this, please?”
“His mother, of course. More to the point, who are you?”
“I’m—just the maid, cleaning his apartment,” I said hastily.
“He lets his maids take important telephone calls, does he?” she said. “You want to watch out that you don’t get yourself into trouble, young woman. Please pass on a message to Captain Sullivan that he should call his mother.”
“It’s not bad news about his father, is it?” I blurted out before I realized this wasn’t probably wise.
“Oh, I see that he keeps you informed of his private life, too,” she said, and I could detect the disapproval.
“Only that he’s been concerned about his father, ma’am. He keeps his landlady informed, and she passes it along to me.”
“His father seems to be on the mend, thank the Lord,” she said. “No, this is another matter altogether.”
“I could take a message for him,” I said hopefully.
“That won’t be necessary. Just tell him that his mother is expecting his call,” she said. That was clearly all I was going to get out of her. It probably wasn’t really important, I decided, just a mother wanting to stay in touch with her only son.
“I’ll write him a note that you called, Mrs. Sullivan,” I said. “He’s been working all hours on a case.”
“They work him too hard,” she said. “Thank you then, Miss—?”
She wanted my name, of course. “You’re most welcome,” I said, and hung up the phone. I wondered if she had heard about me when Daniel broke off his engagement, whether she actually suspected who I was and was voicing her disapproval. I didn’t seem to have too many people on my side at the moment!
As I walked down the stairs I cursed myself for being so stupid—of course I should have remembered he had a phone. He’d given me the number before. But I still wasn’t used to such modern conveniences, and it hadn’t entered my head to call his address. I could have saved myself another long and hot trip, except that Jack probably wouldn’t have answered it, even if he had been there. I wondered where he was, whether he was in hiding or in danger or both.
It had been a long, emotionally draining day and I was never more glad to get home. I had scarcely let myself in and collapsed in my one tattered armchair when there came a loud rapping at the door.
Let it be Jack come to find me. Please, no more bad news, I prayed. I had received enough for a lifetime’s supply in the last two days. I opened the door and was relieved to find Sid standing there.
“Thank heavens, you’re home,” she said, coming in without being invited. “Gus was worried about you, Molly. She knocked on your door several times today to thank you for the dinner last night, but you were never home. She was convinced that you had gone against your word and met a terrible fate with the East Side Ripper.”
I managed a bright smile and light tone as I replied, “Nothing could be further from the truth. I’ve had a pleasant jaunt in the countryside. I took the train to Westchester County.”
“To see Bridie?” Her face lit up. “Wonderful. How is she faring?”
Oh Danny Boy (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #5)
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