Victoria Thompson - Murder on St. Mark’s place

Sarah watched in fascination as Dirk finally swung the huge hammer up over his head and brought it down with a resounding smack that sent the small weight sailing up and up and up until it struck the bell with a clang that set the crowd to cheering wildly.

Men were slapping him on the back and shaking his hand. Women were gazing at him in admiration. And Sarah was taking it all in with a combination of amazement and amusement. Anyone would think Dirk had just accomplished something important, like saving someone’s life or bringing peace to warring nations, instead of just using brute strength to ring a bell.

No one was interested in Sarah’s opinion, however, so she stood back, still holding Dirk’s jacket, while he finished receiving his accolades. The barker encouraged him to select his prize while the crowd was still interested. He wanted to remind everyone that there was a higher purpose in ringing the bell. The satisfaction of achievement was only part of it. But Dirk finally remembered Sarah, and he insisted she make the selection.

The prizes were cheap trinkets, glass beads and small toys. Sarah thought of Malloy’s son, but she knew he wouldn’t appreciate her bringing Brian a prize Dirk Schyler had won for her. Then she remembered Gerda Reinhard’s nieces and nephew. She chose a small rag doll. She could purchase toys for the other children, and deliver them next time she was in the neighborhood. Perhaps that would gain her admittance to the Otto home.

Dirk was still teasing her about her selection of a prize when they came to the Old Mill ride. “What does this do?” Sarah asked.

“Let’s get on and find out,” Dirk suggested.

Sarah could think of no reason to refuse, so they got in line and quickly made their way to the front. They were seated in a boat which began drifting down a man-made stream toward the opening of a tunnel, much like the Shoot-the-Chutes tunnel. A mill wheel turned picturesquely in the water, and over the entrance of the tunnel, Sarah saw a tableau of scantily clad girls performing some kind of spring Maypole dance.

“Oh, my,” she said, a little shocked at how suggestive the picture was.

“People come to Coney Island to be shocked,” Dirk explained cheerfully as their boat was swallowed up into the darkness of the tunnel.

Before Sarah could think of a suitable reply, she was shocked once more. Dirk took her roughly in his arms and covered her mouth with his.

FOR A MOMENT SARAH WAS TOO SURPRISED TO move. She hadn’t been kissed in a very long time, and she’d never been kissed against her will. She only needed a moment, however, before she realized she was furious. The anger took over, and she shoved against Dirk’s chest as hard as she could and wrenched her mouth free.

“Stop that this instant!” she cried, moving as far away as the confines of the boat would allow and holding him back with stiff arms so he wouldn’t try to follow.

“Sarah-” he tried, but she was having none of it.

“Stop making a fool of yourself, Dirk,” she said. “What’s the matter with you? Have you lost your senses?”

“You’ve stolen them, I’m afraid, Sarah,” he said, his voice breathless and husky. “How can you expect me to control myself? You’re a bewitching woman. You must know that. No man can help but fall under your spell.”

He sounded so sincere, Sarah was only sorry it was too dark in the tunnel to see his expression. She imagined he would look lovesick and vulnerable. He probably tried this trick on every girl he met. He must be quite practiced at it by now. The only thing she couldn’t understand was why he felt he had to work his wiles on her.

“Dirk, you’re being ridiculous!” she insisted.

“And you’re being a tease!” He sounded annoyed now, but she figured it was all part of his game. “What do you expect me to think when you practically throw yourself in my way and then ask me to take you to Coney Island?”

“I told you I wanted to come here to catch a killer,” she reminded him, growing annoyed herself. “That doesn’t sound very romantic to me.”

“I assumed it was simply a ploy to get my attention.”

“Why would I want your attention?”

At last he reared back, giving Sarah some room again. “You’re a penniless widow, Sarah.” The sincerity was gone, replaced by contempt. “The Schylers are one of the wealthiest families in the city.”

“And you thought I was looking for a husband?” Sarah could hardly credit this.

“Your mother made it clear to me that I was invited to her dinner party at your request. You had just encountered me here at Coney Island and learned I wasn’t married. What was I supposed to think?”

“You were supposed to think I needed your help finding my way around this place, just as I said.”

“Women never say what they mean, Sarah,” he told her. His voice had changed again. He was growing angry now. “Yes means no and no means yes. They lie and cheat and all they care about is how much money you have to spend on them.”

Sarah was beginning to understand why Dirk was still unmarried. “Not all women are like that, Dirk. Perhaps if you spent more time with women of your own class-”

“Don’t be a snob, Sarah. Women of my own class are the worst of all. They can’t be bought with a few amusement-park rides and a Red Hot. They want jewels and furs and a country estate, but their virtue is for sale just the same. The price is just higher.”

“Well, you can rest assured that my virtue is not for sale at any price, Dirk. I have no interest in your fortune or your person, so you can remember your manners and keep your hands to yourself.”

“I thought you were different, Sarah.”

“I am different. I’m not going to let you molest me.”

He gave a bark of mirthless laughter that sent chills over her. Indeed, he could molest her easily if he so chose. The tunnel was dark and no one was likely to heed her screams of protest. Plainly, this ride was designed to provide a few moments of privacy for couples to indulge at least the minimal pleasures of the flesh. She thought of her hat pin and wondered how long it would hold him at bay if he decided to press the issue.

For the first time in her life Sarah felt an inkling of the kind of terror Gerda and the others must have felt at the hand of their killer. As a woman, she had worried about her personal safety many times while making her way through the city after dark, but that had been a nebulous fear, vague and general, a fear of what could happen. This was a fear of what very well might happen, with a familiar face to put on the person who could harm her.

His breathing was ragged, as if he were battling some inner demons, and she imagined he probably was. Sarah glanced up ahead, hoping to see some sign that the ride would shortly be coming to an end. She imagined she saw a glimmer of light, but perhaps that was only wishful thinking. How long could a ride like this last?

But to her great relief, Dirk finally drew a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I’m afraid I must beg your pardon, Sarah. It’s been a long time since I was in the presence of a true lady.”

She considered pointing out that his mother was most likely a lady and decided not to. Perhaps he had a different opinion. Knowing his mother, he probably did. “I could chastise you for keeping bad company, Dirk.”

“You’d be right, too. But you’re too much of a lady to point out a man’s faults right to his face, aren’t you?”

“I will be, in this case, at least,” she allowed.

“Thank you. Can you ever forgive my abominable behavior? I’m afraid I forgot myself completely.”

“Or perhaps you simply misjudged your companion.”