Sally Spencer - Blackstone and the New World

Florence shrugged. She was already bored with the subject and, besides, a new thought had already entered her mind.

‘How much will I get paid for this?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ Blackstone told her.

‘Nothin’! I’m not doin’ it for nothin ’. If yer don’t pay me, you’ll never find Nancy. ’Cos I’ll say I haven’t seen her — even if I have.’

‘You have to find Nancy,’ Blackstone told her coldly. ‘Because if you don’t, I’ll tell Mr Boone you didn’t even try to.’

‘Bastard!’ Florence said, almost under her breath.

The door of a run-down saloon opened, and a girl of about sixteen, carrying a jug of beer in her hand, stepped out on to the sidewalk.

‘That’s her!’ Florence said.

‘Are you sure?’ Blackstone asked suspiciously.

‘I’m sure,’ Florence replied.

And the malicious glee with which she said the words was enough to convince Blackstone that this was indeed the girl he was looking for.

‘What are you goin’ to do with her?’ Florence asked eagerly. ‘Are you goin’ to arrest her? Will she be sent to jail?’

‘You can leave now,’ Blackstone said, keeping his eyes firmly on the girl with the beer jug.

‘What do yer mean? I can leave?’

‘I mean that you’ve pointed out Nancy for me, and now I have no further use for you.’

‘And how do yer think I’m supposed to get back to the house?’ Florence demanded.

But Blackstone had already begun to walk rapidly towards the girl with the beer jug.

‘I gave you seven dollars yesterday,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Use it to take a bloody cab.’

He caught up with Nancy before she had gone two blocks, and when he said, ‘Nancy Greene! I want to talk to you!’ in a harsh authoritative voice, she froze, and slowly turned around to face him.

She was a pretty enough girl, he thought, and he himself could read in her features that same evidence of character that Mr Boone, the van Horne’s butler had read.

But he could also see that she had a black eye.

‘What do you want?’ she asked, and though there was uncertainty in her voice, there was no sign of fear.

‘I’ve already told you what I want, Nancy,’ Blackstone replied. ‘I want to talk to you.’

‘Haven’t got the time to talk,’ the girl said. ‘Eddie wants his beer, and if I keep him waiting for it too long. .’

She left the rest unsaid, but there was no need to say it, when her black eye said it for her.

‘If you won’t talk to me voluntarily, then I’ll have to arrest you,’ Blackstone threatened.

Nancy nodded fatalistically.

She hadn’t even asked on whose authority he would arrest her, or what she was supposed to have done wrong, he thought.

She simply assumed that he did have the right, and that she had done something wrong, even if she herself didn’t know what it was — because that was what girls in her position always assumed.

‘All right, I’ll talk to you, mister — but can you make it quick?’ Nancy pleaded.

Blackstone glanced up and down the sidewalk. Though the two of them had only been standing there for a minute, they had already begun to attract the attention of some of the boys who were loitering on the corner, as well as some of the men who were bent over their card game.

For the moment, these men and boys were showing nothing but mild curiosity at the encounter, but the longer he and Nancy stayed there, the more likely it was that someone would decide to take offence at a local girl being questioned by a stranger. And then things could turn extremely nasty.

‘You live near here, don’t you?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Nancy replied.

He would not have believed her if she’d said she didn’t, because the jug in her hand was evidence that she did not have far to go.

‘We’ll go back to your apartment,’ he suggested.

‘My apartment?’ Nancy repeated incredulously. ‘Who do you think I am, mister? I haven’t got an apartment — I’ve got a room!’

‘Then we’ll go there.’

‘We can’t. Eddie’s there, and he wouldn’t like it if I brought anybody back with me who wasn’t paying for the privilege.’ Nancy paused. ‘And that’s not what you want, is it?’

‘No, that’s not what I want,’ Blackstone said, without even bothering to ask what that was.

He quickly surveyed the street again. The card game had been temporarily suspended, and the boys on the street corner were looking first at the two of them, and then at each other.

Where could he take the girl? he wondered. In most other areas of New York, he would have headed immediately for the nearest tea room, but this was Five Points, and no such establishment existed.

It would just have to be the saloon, he decided.

‘I’ll buy you a drink,’ he said.

‘I don’t want a drink,’ Nancy said firmly.

‘You might not want one, but, believe me, you’re going to need one,’ Blackstone assured her.

The tables in the saloon had a layer of filth on them that seemed to have been cultivated over generations. The glasses were chipped or cracked — or both — and to describe them as merely dirty would have been paying them a compliment. The floor was uneven, the windows were streaked with grime, and the barman — a fat brute of a man, who hadn’t shaved for days — wore a stained apron over a stained shirt. All in all, it was far from the ideal place for this meeting — but it was the best that was on offer in Five Points.

Blackstone had ordered a beer for himself and a gin for the girl. He had already drunk half the beer, but the glass of gin sitting in front of Nancy remained untouched.

‘Tell me about Jenny,’ he said.

‘Jenny?’ Nancy repeated, as if she had never even heard the name before. ‘Which Jenny would that be, then?’

Blackstone sighed. ‘Jenny from the orphanage,’ he said. ‘Jenny, your best friend.’

‘Oh, you mean that Jenny,’ Nancy said. ‘Why would you want to know anything about her ?’

‘Why wouldn’t you want to tell me about her?’ Blackstone countered.

‘Because. .’

‘Yes?’

Nancy thought for a moment, then shrugged and said, ‘No reason. Where do you want me to start?’

‘At the beginning. In the orphanage.’

‘I hated it,’ Nancy said simply.

‘Because they were cruel to you in there?’

‘No. They weren’t cruel to us. They were strict — but never cruel. I hated it because. .’ Nancy waved her hands helplessly in the air, ‘. . just because of the place itself. You’ve no idea what it was like, living there.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Blackstone said. ‘I have a very good idea — because I’m an orphan myself.’

‘Then you’ll know how very alone you can feel, even though you’re surrounded by other people. You’ll know how you search for one thing, or one person, you can rely on — one thing or one person you can hold on to, that will convince you that everything’s going to be all right.’

‘Yes, I do know that,’ Blackstone agreed, as he felt an involuntary shudder run though his body.

‘Jenny found me,’ Nancy said. ‘She chose me as her big sister.’

And you exploited her, Blackstone thought. Not then. Not in the early days. But later.

He was trying to avoid getting angry — because, in many ways, Nancy was a victim, too — but it wasn’t easy for him.

‘Did you like being her big sister?’ he asked.

‘Yes, she’s a sweet girl.’

It had been obvious from the start that Nancy didn’t know Jenny was dead, Blackstone thought.