“She mentioned him to me,” Sophie said. “You translated for Anna, isn’t that right, Detective Sergeant?”
Anna knew that Sophie was willing to intervene on her behalf, but it was too much to ask and, moreover, doomed to failure. They would not be distracted, these old women to whom she belonged, heart and soul. She took hold of the conversation.
“Sister Mary Augustin wasn’t quite up to the challenge of so many dialects,” Anna said. “And the priest was away at—” She looked at Jack Mezzanotte directly. “The term escapes me.”
“Extreme unction,” he supplied. “Last rites.”
“So I was very glad of his help. But I first met Detective Sergeant Maroney at the Vanderbilts’ masked ball later that evening,” she added. “They were there on duty.”
Sophie had been participating in the conversation with her usual good manners, but now she stiffened slightly. To Detective Maroney she said, “Did you meet our friend Cap?”
“We didn’t have the pleasure,” he answered. “I was sorry to learn that he is so ill.” It was phrased in a way that could be taken as a question or an observation.
“He is consumptive,” Aunt Quinlan said.
Anna was glad of the change in topic, but it also confused her; it wasn’t like Aunt Quinlan to talk to strangers about Cap’s health. Something else was going on.
She was saying, “Sophie has had a letter from a specialist in Switzerland—” She raised a brow in Anna’s direction. “We planned to tell you about it this evening.”
“Hmmm,” Anna said, doubtfully. She wondered when exactly this letter had arrived. More important, she understood that she had been outmaneuvered. The subject of the letter had been brought up because the company at the table would force her to be patient and keep what would otherwise be sharp questions to herself. For the time being.
“A specialist who can cure consumption?” Oscar Maroney looked both impressed and doubtful.
“No,” Sophie said. “Not yet. But he is opening a clinic—too small to be called a sanatorium really—to launch a trial for a new therapy.”
Anna said, “We’ll have to go over the details later. That is, if Cap indicates an interest.” And there, she thought. That should be enough to end the conversation, both at this table and at any other time. Cap would have nothing to do with such a scheme. Except now Aunt Quinlan was looking at her thoughtfully, with something in her expression Anna didn’t like at all.
“But he is interested,” her aunt said. “He asked for you to come by on Sunday, to discuss it.”
? ? ?
JACK HAD BEEN watching the back-and-forth between the older women and the younger ones, seeing affection and respect in the way they talked to each other, but also challenges and long-held disagreements.
“So may I ask, what do you plan to do about the Russo girls?”
All eyes turned to him.
“Would you like us to take them back to the asylum?”
Beside him Maroney moved uneasily.
“You would do that?” Sophie seemed genuinely surprised.
“If you asked us to, we would have to take them.”
“Where?” Aunt Quinlan wanted to know. “To Mott Street?”
Margaret Cooper appeared in the doorway as if her name had been called. “You cannot be serious. We can’t send them back there,” she said. “Not in good conscience.”
“Margaret,” Anna began, but her cousin had already walked away, her back stiff and straight.
“She wants to take them in?” Oscar looked at each of the women in turn, one brow raised in polite surprise.
“She is very maternal and misses having children to look after, but of course, this is something we need to think about and discuss at length before we undertake something so—important,” Mrs. Quinlan said.
Then Margaret was back, a newspaper in her hands. “‘Chinese opium den raided,’” she read aloud. “‘Young girls living in the neighborhood have been decoyed for immoral purposes.’” Her eyes scanned the page. “‘A brawl outside Mayer’s tavern at Cherry and Water Streets ended in a fatal stabbing . . .’ And oh, yes, this: ‘The body of a young boy found in an outhouse on Prince Street, marks of violence.’ Shall I go on?”
Oscar was clearly surprised and delighted at this unexpected source of information. “You subscribe to the Police Gazette?”
“I do,” she said, as if she had been challenged.
The old aunt shook her head. “Margaret, we are all aware of the dangers in that neighborhood, but that’s not the issue just now. We have to send word to the sisters that they can stop searching. It doesn’t mean we’ll send the girls away.”
“We might not have a choice,” Sophie said. “The Church will have an opinion.”
Margaret Cooper’s expression turned sour, but Anna got up from the table before the conversation could continue.
“I’ll write that note now.”
? ? ?