Three finely dressed older men came in, all of them in shining good health, polished and buffed. One had a walking stick with a jewel embedded in its head. Anna guessed them to be judges from the district courthouse behind the market. They were sure of themselves in this less-than-first-class neighborhood, but then, who would dare rob a judge surrounded by police officers? Anna had known some very handy children who could have managed to pick such pockets, but the cane would be harder to nick.
She counted out fifteen cents for her toast and coffee, added a nickel for a tip, made sure of her reticule, and left, inclining her head to one of the judges, who bowed from the shoulders. As she left the coffeehouse another stream of people came down the stairs from the elevated train platform. Businessmen and lawyers, most likely on their way to one courtroom or another; an irritated middle-aged woman with three school-age boys, and at last one elderly man, moving slowly. His cane was well used and not for show. Step by step he felt his way down, his posture exacting.
There was something in his face that spoke of joint pain, barely kept within the bounds of what a person could tolerate and stay upright. Anna knew this look from her aunt and felt a swell of empathy. She wondered if his hips were the problem, or his knees, or both.
He must have felt her gaze, because his head came up and he looked at her directly. One corner of his mouth twitched and then curved downward, as if he had seen something objectionable. It was not surprising that he’d take offense; medicine had instilled some very bad habits, and one of them was staring at people trying to diagnose what might be wrong. She had been staring. She hesitated, wondering if she should speak to him or if that would make things worse. Turning away she felt him watching her, repaying her in kind.
A glance over her shoulder showed him still standing on the stairs, one hand on the banister. As she looked his frown deepened and he thumped with his cane, very deliberately. Once, twice, three times, like the gavel of a judge.
She put the old man out of her mind, and Mrs. Smithson immediately took his place. Of course she would have to tell Jack about their conversation and she considered how best to do that while she walked. The plain truth was the best option; she had let her curiosity get the best of her.
That thought was still in her mind when she got home, ready to confess, and found that Jack had been called back to Mulberry Street and wasn’t expected before early Thursday morning, most likely when Anna had already left for the hospital.
Her mood deflated, she ate a bowl of Mrs. Cabot’s broth and a few crackers, drank what seemed like another quart of tea infused with honey and lemon, and took a few minutes to write a message for Ned to take to the New Amsterdam: she would be back at work tomorrow at half past six.
“I’m going to go sleep for a few hours,” she told Mrs. Cabot. “But call if someone needs me.”
There’s was a half smile that Anna already recognized as Mrs. Cabot’s quiet opposition.
“Oh ayuh,” she said. “That’s just exactly what I’ll do.”
? ? ?
WHEN JACK GOT to Mulberry Street he found Maroney, Sainsbury, and Larkin sitting around the table listening to Nicholas Lambert, who was going over his notes on the rest of the autopsies.
So Jack leaned against the door and listened, his chin on his chest.
Lambert was saying, “Of the eight cases, the first two are significantly different, but there are similarities enough to group them all together as the work of one person. I have to write up the last three reports and a summary of my findings, but I thought you’d want to hear this much right away.”
Oscar said, “It’s good to know what we’re dealing with. Any ideas about the person responsible?”
“Do you mean who it might be?” He shook his head. “It could be anyone. Whoever is doing this must have learned how to present a normal face to the world. The most I can say is that this is the work of someone familiar with human anatomy, and well versed in how to cause maximum damage and pain. Whoever he is, I hope he steps in front of an omnibus before he gets around to harming another woman.”
When he had gone they sat staring at each other for a long moment. Interviews with cabbies, hotel employees, hospital staff had all come to nothing, and neither had the letters written to the doctors advertising in the newspaper. This thought was still in Jack’s mind when Sainsbury looked up and said, “This may be a stupid idea.”
To All Ladies Resident in the City or Environs: