“She should have killed him,” Sophie said finally. “And saved herself.”
Anna fumbled a handkerchief out of her sleeve and wiped Sophie’s damp face. “In a just world, yes.” She felt very close to tears herself, until she saw Jack’s face.
“What?”
He said, “Sophie, Sam Reason and his grandmother are waiting in a room just down the hall to talk to you.”
Sophie stiffened. “He was arrested?”
Jack nodded. “But he won’t be charged. He’s free to go home.”
“What? How?”
“Comstock overplayed his hand. And he’s not the only one who knows people in the district attorney’s office. Sophie, be warned, Reason is—”
“Rude. I know,” she said. “But he has cause.”
? ? ?
DELILAH REASON WAS thinner than she had been, her cheekbones more prominent and the shoulders of her shirtwaist not quite so well filled out. But her smile was genuine, and Sophie was so glad to see that small sign of sincere welcome that her hands began to tremble.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Sophie said. “Though I wish the circumstances weren’t quite so grim.”
“You look like you haven’t got much sleep,” Mrs. Reason said. “Are you taking care of yourself?”
“Dr. Verhoeven has staff to take care of her,” Sam Reason said. He was standing near the door, very straight and tall and so tense he seemed to vibrate.
“Sam,” said Mrs. Reason. “I did not raise you to be impolite. Dr. Savard—”
“Sophie. Please, call me Sophie. Sam has good cause to be angry with me.”
They both looked at her as if she had suddenly started speaking Greek.
Sophie said, “I assumed that Comstock raided your offices because of our pamphlets, that he traced them somehow. That’s not what happened?”
“The other way around,” said Sam Reason. “He—or better said, one of his men—brought one of your pamphlets in to me and asked what it would cost to reprint it.”
“But why were you arrested?” Sophie asked him directly.
“I was caught off guard and I did the first thing that came to mind. I handed him our price sheet. The one I use to calculate estimates, page count and paper stock, and so on. That’s all it took. Next thing Comstock came in himself and arrested me.”
“Because he didn’t reject the job straight out,” Mrs. Reason supplied.
“But it was one of the pamphlets I showed you?”
Sam nodded. “No doubt in my mind, it was my grandfather’s work.”
“It’s none of your doing,” said his grandmother to Sophie.
“I fear it is. I embarrassed Comstock in court yesterday,” Sophie told them. “I can’t help feeling there’s a connection.”
“Maybe so.” Sam Reason turned his hat around and around in his hands. “But it’s over and done now. Maybe you can thank the detective sergeant for speaking up for me. I’d be spending another night in a cell if he hadn’t.”
“I have already asked him to keep an eye out for Comstock on your behalf. You must be very careful from now on. He doesn’t like being bested.”
For the first time she saw a flicker of a smile on Sam Reason’s face. “Nobody does.”
Mrs. Reason picked up her reticule, and, taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she launched into what Sophie thought must have been a rehearsed speech.
“I saw in the newspaper that you married just a few days ago,” she said. “And I’d like to wish you and Mr. Verhoeven every happiness.”
“Thank you.” Sophie resisted the urge to turn away. “I should explain—”
“You don’t owe anybody an explanation,” Sam said. “It’s nobody’s business but your own who you marry.”
Sophie nodded. “Still, I wanted to say that I had hoped to come and visit again, but there have been so many complications. We leave tomorrow for Europe. Cap—my husband—Cap is going into treatment at a sanatorium, for tuberculosis. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Whenever that is, you are both very welcome at my home. Any time at all. I hope Mr. Verhoeven’s health is restored to him quickly.”
“That’s very unlikely,” Sophie said, and at the look on Mrs. Reason’s face, she realized how heartless she must have sounded.
“He is very ill,” she started again. “It is a matter of months, at the most.”
Sam moved suddenly. “I’ll wait outside.” And just that quickly he was gone.
“Talk of illness makes him uneasy. He has a deep fear of it.”
“Most people do,” Sophie pointed out.
“Sam more than most. He lost his wife to cancer, you see. When you visited us that Sunday, he was gone to Savannah to tell her family in person. He’s been very shut off since her death, but I expect you’re familiar with that kind of thing, as a doctor.”
“I thought he disapproved of my marriage.”
Mrs. Reason lifted a shoulder, as if to shrug off the possibility. “But I do not, and you are welcome in Brooklyn when you come back. You will come back?”
“Oh, yes,” Sophie said. “Of course I will. This is my home.”
? ? ?
NEW YORK TRIBUNE
Wednesday, May 30, 1883