He slapped his gloves on the back of the chair again, but with less ferocity this time. Then he dropped into the chair, panting. Sheriff Heath saw his opportunity.
“Mr. Bernstein, I appreciate the difficulty you find yourself in. But you must understand that I have a jail full of actual criminals. I simply can’t expend the resources of this office on the resolution of marital complaints. If you’re not able to convince your wife that she isn’t being followed, might you like to consult a doctor about it, or a lawyer? I’m acquainted with an attorney in Paterson who knows his way around a marital dispute, and I’d be happy to send you to him.”
“A lawyer?” Freeman Bernstein was on his feet again, reinvigorated by outrage. “The only lawyer I need is the one who’s going to represent me at the courthouse when I make a complaint of kidnapping.”
“But who’s been kidnapped?” Constance called as Mr. Bernstein flung open the door and made ready to take his dramatic exit.
“My wife, of course. If you say that she wasn’t being followed and that everything she’s told me is false, then I can only assume that she is being prevented from coming home because she’s being held at gunpoint and forced to write these vicious letters. She must be in the hands of white slavers, or worse. I’ll go to the courthouse right now and make my report. That fellow in the prosecutor’s office is always going on about white slavers. He’ll want to hear about this one.”
“Mr. Bernstein, do not forget that it’s a crime to file a false report,” Constance said. “I don’t see how this could benefit you.”
She’d never seen anyone as animated as Freeman Bernstein was at that moment. His cheeks were red, his eyes were bright, and every line in his face was contorted into any expression of outrage. He might have even grown a few inches taller, or perhaps he was standing on his toes.
“It will force you to go and fetch her!” He jabbed a finger in Constance’s direction. “They’ll send the lady deputy, won’t they? Of course they will. She’s your responsibility now, Deputy Kopp. You’ll have to go and get her, and to talk some sense into her. Isn’t that what you matrons do?”
She didn’t like being poked by this man. “What about you? You lure girls away with the promise of putting them on stage, and give them nothing but drudgery instead.”
He stared at Constance, his mouth open, and then burst into laughter. “Lure them away? When have I ever had to lure a girl onto the stage? They follow me around day and night! They beg me!”
He wiped his eyes and gave the sheriff a knowing smile, hoping for some commiseration. Sheriff Heath just stared blankly.
“But . . . Fleurette auditioned to be a Dresden Doll, and you never put her on stage.”
Mr. Bernstein put his hands on his hips and cocked his head at her. “Fleurette. Do we have a Fleurette?”
Constance was almost yelling by now. “You said you did! That’s why we came and asked you. And yes—I saw her. I mean?—”
“Aha!” he said. “You did follow her! I knew it. Well, you saw her. How did your sister do on the stage?”
“She isn’t on the stage. She’s your seamstress.”
Now he seemed to understand. He paced around, a finger on his chin. “Oh, yes. Florabelle. Little girl. The one we saw in Paterson.”
“Yes!” she said. “You filled her head with ideas about how talented she was and promised her a place with the troupe.”
“I never did!” He turned to the sheriff and raised a hand as if to take a vow. “Honest, Sheriff. I never did. I thought the girls had a nice little act, but they’re amateurs. We wouldn’t put somebody like that in our show. She’s not vaudeville material. I told her so. She chased after me and asked for a seamstressing job, but I said I couldn’t carry one more girl. She offered to work for free, if only I’d put her on as company seamstress. Said she’d share a room and promised not to eat much. She only wanted to show us what she could do. I felt sorry for her and decided to give the little darling a chance, but I never said I’d put her on stage. I suppose she’s done a fine-enough job. I haven’t heard a thing about her.”
Sheriff Heath saw the expression on Constance’s face and stayed quiet.
“Are you saying that you never told her that she could perform with May Ward?” she asked.
“Of course I didn’t!” Mr. Bernstein said. “Listen, Miss Lady Deputy, your sister’s a sweet little thing, but she’s unschooled. How long has she been at that academy—a year?”
“A little over six months,” Constance admitted. “But all her life, she’s always danced, and she sings at home, and?—”
He sighed. “Do you know how many girls I meet every year who like to sing and dance at home in front of their adoring mothers and sisters? What we do takes training, ma’am. Years of it. Your girl likes to prance in front of a mirror, but that’s not enough. I’m sure she’s a fine seamstress. Tell her to stay with that.”
“You don’t know a thing about her!”
Sheriff Heath stood up and said, “Thank you for coming to see us, Mr. Bernstein. I hope you’re able to work out matters with your wife peacefully.”
But the sheriff was rewarded with another look of contempt. “Peacefully? You don’t know my wife, sir.”
“But by your own admission, there’s no evidence of a kidnapping.”
He was worked up into a fury again.
“Really? We’ll see what the prosecutor has to say about that!”
He tossed a scarf around his neck in the very picture of theatricality and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Constance opened the door just a crack to make sure a guard had hold of him and was ushering him out. Once she was reassured on that point, she dropped into a chair across from Sheriff Heath.
“Miss Norma certainly knows how to make an enemy,” the sheriff said. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met anyone with such an imagination. He told me that Norma riffled through his office to find May Ward’s tour schedule. I said that sounded outrageous even for a Kopp sister.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to say she did riffle through his office,” Constance confessed. “But it’s not impossible to learn an actress’s tour schedule. It doesn’t prove anything.”
Sheriff Heath sat back in his chair, looking a little downcast at the realization that Norma stood guilty as charged. “I thought the worst offense was you watching May Ward in a hotel lobby, and that hardly sounded like a capital crime, especially since she seems to see ladies following her everywhere lately. She’s obviously imagining things.”
“Oh, I’m afraid she’s not.” Constance told him that Norma had gone on her own to speak to Belle Headison and set her army of matrons on the march. “I tried to put a stop to it, but I suspect that Mrs. Headison didn’t listen to me.”
He groaned. “Then you really did send someone to spy on her in every city?”