Victoria Thompson - Murder On Astor Place

“Oh, I’m that sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to cry thataway. Mrs. Hightower would have me hide, but when I think about poor Miss Alicia…”

“You knew her well, I guess,” Frank ventured.

“I was her maid for two years, her personal lady’s maid, but when she comes out here this time, Mrs. Hightower, she tells me, Lizzie, she says, Miss Alicia won’t be needing a maid anymore, so we’ll make you a chambermaid. A chambermaid ! I’m a trained lady’s maid, I am, and now I have to empty chamber pots! Can you feature it?”

Frank assured her he could not. “Why didn’t she need a maid?”

“I’m sure I don’t know! Oh, Mrs. Hightower would do for her, help her get dressed and such, but she was the only one ever went near her. None of the rest of us could so much as speak to her, not even me, and I’d been with her for two years!”

Frank had a pretty good idea why the servants were being kept away from Alicia, but he didn’t want to share his thoughts with Lizzie.

“Then I guess you wouldn’t have any idea how she could’ve gotten out of the house the night she disappeared.”

“Oh, cor, she probably walked right out the front door, don’t you know. No reason why she shouldn’t, is there?”

“I don’t know, is there?” Frank countered, very interested indeed in this theory.

“Not at all. The servants, we all sleep on the third floor, even me since I’m not allowed to do for Miss Alicia anymore. If she wanted to go out, there was nobody to stop her or even to hear her. The front door was locked, but the key’s right beside it, so she could just open it and walk out, bold as you please. I mean, there’s no reason to hide the key. Who’d think about anybody inside getting out? The locks is to keep people on the outside from getting in, ain’t they?”

Frank had to agree that they were. “So none of the servants would have known her plans? Couldn’t anybody have helped her get away?”

“Oh, no, sir. It’s worth your job to disobey Mrs. Hightower, and none of us even spoke to Miss Alicia since she’s been here this time. Oh, except Harvey, of course.”

Frank felt a rush of excitement, but he managed not to betray himself to Lizzie so he wouldn’t frighten her. “Who’s Harvey?”

“He’s the groom. He’d take her riding every day, or nearly every day. That girl loved to ride, she did. And she loved that horse of hers even more. I never could understand it. She’d always smell like the stable when she got back, and I’d have to pour her a bath and…” Lizzie’s voice caught, and she covered her mouth. Her eyes filled with tears again, but she managed to keep her composure this time.

“You must miss her,” Frank said kindly.

Lizzie lifted her chin and swallowed her tears. “I been missing her for a while,” she said, angry now. “It was so strange, like she was prisoner here… except I guess she wasn’t really, or else they would’ve kept her locked up. Then she’d still be here, wouldn’t she?”

“Unless they didn’t think she had any way of escaping,” Frank suggested.

“That’s true enough,” Lizzie allowed. “And Lord knows, she didn’t. I mean, who would help her get away? You’d be turned out without a reference.”

“And all the servants are still here, I guess.”

“Oh, yes, every one of us. Nobody here would go against Mr. VanDamm, not even for poor Miss Alicia.”

“Why do you call her poor?”

Lizzie blinked in surprise. “Because she’s dead, ain’t she?”

Frank blinked back. “Well, yes, but is there any other reason?”

“Why should there be? She was rich. Had everything she wanted and more. And such a sweet girl. Never a harsh word for anybody. It was always, Lizzie, if you wouldn’t mind, and Lizzie, if you please. Not like she was ordering you around or nothing. Like you was doing her a favor to do for her. A real lady. Not like some I could name.”

Frank could probably name the same one. “Well, Lizzie, I want to thank you for your time.”

“Did I tell you anything that’ll help?” she asked anxiously. “I sure want to see whoever killed Miss Alicia get what’s coming to him.”

“You helped a lot,” he said, rewarding her with a smile. “Now could you tell me where to find Harvey?”

SARAH WAS BONE weary as she made her way down the sidewalk toward her flat. The sun told her the hour was hardly past noon, but she’d been up early delivering a breech baby that hadn’t wanted to leave the comfort of his mother’s womb. Her arms ached and her legs ached and her head ached and the last thing she wanted was to make small talk, so she groaned inwardly when she saw her neighbor, Mrs. Elsworth, sweeping her front stoop.

Maybe she was just enjoying the delightfully warm day after winter’s last gasp had finally given way to true spring, but more likely, she’d seen Sarah approaching and come out on purpose to engage her in conversation. Keeping house for her widowed son wasn’t nearly enough to keep her occupied, and she did enjoy hearing about Sarah’s work.

“Good morning, Mrs. Elsworth,” Sarah called as she reached the stoop where the old woman was sweeping.

Mrs. Elsworth looked up in apparent surprise, her wrinkled face breaking into a delighted smile. “Mrs. Brandt, don’t tell me you’ve been out all night!”

“I certainly have, delivering a fat baby girl who had made up her mind to come into the world backwards.”

“Oh, my, I hope everyone is all right.”

“Right as they can be.” Only then did Sarah realize that something wasn’t quite right with Mrs. Elsworth’s sweeping. “Were you sweeping dirt into the house?” she asked in alarm. Could the old woman be losing her mental faculties?

“Of course I was,” she replied without the slightest hesitation. “This is a new broom.” She held it up so Sarah could see that for herself. “You’ve got to sweep something into the house before you sweep anything out with it, or else all your luck will be swept out the door. Surely you knew that.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” was all Sarah could think to say.

Mrs. Elsworth needed no further encouragement. “Won’t you come in and take a bite with me? I’m sure you haven’t had breakfast, and I’ve got some fresh bread and elderberry jam that I put up last year. It’s hard to find fresh berries in the city, but Nelson got them in the country for me.” Nelson was her son who had his own accounting firm. “You can tell me all about the new baby, and oh, dear, I don’t suppose you’ve seen the papers, but someone sent a bomb to that nice gentleman, Commissioner Roosevelt.”

“A bomb?” Sarah echoed incredulously. “Are you sure? Did it explode? Was he hurt?”

“Oh, I’m quite sure. It was in the Times this morning, but it didn’t explode, thank heaven, and no one was hurt. Mr. Roosevelt didn’t even receive it. The postman discovered it, I think. I have the paper inside, so you can read it for yourself.”

Much as she would like to read the story for herself, it could wait. Right now, Sarah wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and sleep the clock around. She was still trying to think of a gracious way to decline the invitation, however, when she saw her salvation coming down the street.

Will Yardley was walking quickly and checking back over his shoulder every few seconds, as if afraid he was being followed.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on the elderberry jam, Mrs. Elsworth. It looks like I’m getting a visitor.”

Mrs. Elsworth frowned as she stared down the street at the approaching figure. “You don’t mean that little guttersnipe, do you? What would a creature like that want with a lady like you?”

“I delivered his wife of a baby girl a few days ago.”