Murder on Sisters' Row

10

SARAH SHOOK HER HEAD, TRYING TO UNDERSTAND. “DID the other people at Rahab’s Daughters know Miss Yingling had been a prostitute? Oh, wait, of course they did. Now it all makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Malloy asked.

“The way they treated her, that day we had the meeting in Mrs. Van Orner’s office to plan how we were going to rescue Amy from the brothel. Mrs. Spratt-Williams and the two gentlemen, they acted like she wasn’t even there. I don’t think they even looked at her unless they had to. I thought they were just too proud to speak to a lowly secretary, but that wasn’t it at all.”

“How did Mrs. Van Orner treat her?” Maeve asked. Sarah tried to recall. “She treated her like she was a servant, but that didn’t seem strange, because in a sense, she was.”

“Except she lived in the Van Orners’ house,” Malloy reminded her.

“So do their other servants,” Sarah said. “What I can’t understand is why Mr. Van Orner allowed it.”

“You’re forgetting the rumors about Mr. Van Orner,” Malloy said. “They say he likes prostitutes.”

“But would he like one living under his own roof?” Mrs. Ellsworth scoffed. “He’d be a laughingstock.”

Malloy refused to give in. “Maybe his friends didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t even know. I can’t imagine his wife telling him.”

Sarah shook her head. “And I can’t believe Miss Yingling was a prostitute. She’s one of the most prim and proper young women I’ve ever met.”

“That’s what she’d want Mrs. Van Orner and everybody else to think,” Malloy argued back. “You didn’t see her last night, though.”

“What do you mean?”

Mrs. Ellsworth and Maeve leaned forward eagerly.

“I mean when I asked if Mr. Van Orner would let me investigate his wife’s murder, she said she would ask him, but it would take a long time. I didn’t know what she meant at first. I thought she needed time to convince him, but when she came back an hour later, I realized that she needed the time to get herself fixed up. I didn’t even recognize her. She’d changed completely.”

“Changed how?” Maeve asked.

“She was beautiful, with her hair all curled and a nice dress on, one that showed off her figure instead of hanging on her. I don’t know what she said to convince Van Orner, but she made sure she looked pretty to do it.”

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “That gives her a good reason to kill Mrs. Van Orner.”

Sarah frowned, not following at all. “What does?”

“Why, she must be in love with Mr. Van Orner and wanted to get his wife out of the way so he could have him for herself.”

Sarah frowned. “Mrs. Van Orner had saved her and given her a job and kept her in her own house. She had a lot of reasons to be grateful to Mrs. Van Orner. She also couldn’t possibly think Mr. Van Orner would ever want to marry her, no matter how much he might like prostitutes.”

“And we’re forgetting all about Amy,” Maeve said.

“What about her?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked.

“You’re right, Maeve. Amy wasn’t grateful to Mrs. Van Orner at all, and she’d been hinting for weeks that Mr. Van Orner was the father of her baby,” Sarah said. “We might be sure Mr. Van Orner wouldn’t believe her and that he would certainly never marry her even if he did, but she might not have known any of that. As you said, Malloy, young girls get silly ideas.”

“She was at the rescue house yesterday, and she had the opportunity to put the poison in Mrs. Van Orner’s flask, too,” Maeve reminded them.

“Except for one thing,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “How could she know about Mrs. Van Orner’s drinking problem in the first place?”

MALLOY DIDN’T LIKE HER PLAN, BUT SARAH THOUGHT IT was brilliant. She didn’t even need to convince her mother, who was only too happy to assist. Mrs. Decker agreed instantly when Sarah showed up at her house the next morning to ask her.

“A condolence visit to Gregory Van Orner,” she repeated when Sarah suggested it. “I’m ashamed I hadn’t thought of it myself.”

Sarah filled her in on everything she knew while her mother got herself properly dressed for a visit.

“I’m not complaining, mind you,” her mother said while her maid pinned up her hair, “but why didn’t Mr. Malloy just go to the house himself?” They were in Mrs. Decker’s lavishly furnished bedroom.

“Because they might just refuse to see him, and even if they did let him in, Mr. Van Orner and Miss Yingling might get angry and refuse to answer his questions. I could go alone, but Mr. Van Orner doesn’t know me, and Miss Yingling doesn’t have any reason to confide in me, but you . . .” Sarah smiled sweetly at her mother’s reflection in the dressing table mirror.

“Gregory wouldn’t dare refuse to see me, and this Miss Yingling might be awed enough by my name to speak with you, too.”

“Mother, you amaze me.”

“Perhaps I should speak to Theodore about giving me a job on the police force . . . Oh, dear, I keep forgetting he’s not there anymore. He’s joined the Navy or something,” Mrs. Decker said, referring to their old family friend, Theodore Roosevelt, who had once been the police commissioner.

“He’s the Assistant Secretary of the Navy in Washington, D.C., now,” Sarah reminded her. “I’m sure if you want to work for the police, Mr. Malloy can tell you who to speak with, though,” she added with a grin.

“I’m sure he could. Perhaps we should see how this trip goes before I make any plans,” Mrs. Decker said, making her maid sigh in dismay.

Even though the Van Orners lived only a few blocks away from Mrs. Decker, they took the carriage. Mrs. Decker wanted to make an impression.

The maid who answered the door escorted Sarah and her mother straight upstairs to the front parlor, where they had to wait awhile for Mr. Van Orner. The maid brought tea and cake to occupy them. At last, Mr. Van Orner came in, looking a bit harried and still smoothing the lapels of his black mourning suit.

“Elizabeth, how good of you to come,” he said, going straight for Mrs. Decker and taking the hand she offered him. He had once been a handsome man who was now going soft in his middle years. His features seemed slightly blurred with the puffiness that comes from too much drink.

“I’m so sorry to hear about poor Vivian. I came at once to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“We’re all still in shock, I’m afraid. I’ve been trying to decide on funeral arrangements, but it’s so difficult. I don’t have any idea what she would have wanted.” He noticed Sarah. “Is this your daughter?”

“Yes, Mrs. Brandt. She helped Vivian in her work at Rahab’s Daughters.”

Sarah saw the emotion flicker across Mr. Van Orner’s face. She thought it was distaste, but he recovered quickly. “I’m sure Vivian appreciated your help very much.”

“I was grateful for the opportunity. She’ll be greatly missed.”

“Yes, well, I see the servants have brought you some refreshment. Can I refill your cups?” He took a seat on a chair opposite the sofa where they sat and proceeded to pour, filling a cup for himself in the process.

“Vivian’s death was so sudden,” Mrs. Decker said. “Had she been ill?”

“No, not that anyone knew. She . . . Well, I suppose you’ll hear sooner or later. The police believe she was helped along.”

“Helped along?” Mrs. Decker said with creditable innocence.

“You know, murdered.”

“Good heavens! Who would do such a thing?”

Van Orner glanced at Sarah. “Vivian had made a lot of enemies with her little hobby, people who wouldn’t think twice about murder.”

“How was she murdered?” Mrs. Decker asked, still looking suitably shocked.

“They believe she was poisoned somehow. At least that’s what Miss Yingling tells me. Miss Yingling was Vivian’s secretary.”

“How on earth could someone have poisoned her?”

“I have no idea. I’ve left everything up to the police.”

Sarah could see they’d get nothing from Mr. Van Orner. “I would like to express my condolences to Miss Yingling, if I may. I met her while I was working with Mrs. Van Orner, and I know she must be devastated.”

Mr. Van Orner seemed a bit surprised, but he shrugged. “I’m sure that would be fine.” He rang for the maid and sent her to fetch Miss Yingling.

Mrs. Decker made polite conversation with their host while they waited for Miss Yingling. When the door opened, Sarah managed not to gasp at the transformation in the young woman. After what Malloy had told her, she’d been prepared for a change, but the difference was still shocking.

Malloy hadn’t done justice to her when describing the change, but Sarah could see every detail. The drab, ill-fitting suit was gone. In its place she wore a fashionable flowered gown that fit snugly enough to accentuate all of her womanly curves, curves Sarah hadn’t even suspected she possessed. Her hair had been restyled into the modern, more flattering Gibson girl knot on the top of her head. Soft curls adorned her forehead and trailed down her cheeks and the back of her neck. The faintest touches of rouge brought out the color in her lips and cheeks. She was, Sarah acknowledged, a lovely young woman. Sarah had to consciously close her gaping mouth.

Miss Yingling seemed equally surprised. “Mrs. Brandt,” she said. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I heard the news about Mrs. Van Orner. I’m so very sorry.”

Miss Yingling just stood there.

Conscious of the uncomfortable silence, Mr. Van Orner said, “Mrs. Brandt said she knew you, Tamar.” He seemed unsure if he’d made a mistake by summoning Miss Yingling.

“Yes, of course she does,” Miss Yingling quickly confirmed. “Mrs. Brandt helped us with our last rescue.”

“The one with—”

“The one I told you about,” she said sharply, cutting him off. The glance she gave him could only be described as a warning.

Sarah had never seen a servant give such a look to her master, but Mr. Van Orner didn’t seem outraged or even surprised. He just nodded once and fell silent.

Miss Yingling turned her attention back to Sarah, suddenly and belatedly gracious. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Brandt. How did you hear about Mrs. Van Orner’s death?”

“From the police,” Sarah said.

“The police? Why were you talking with the police?”

“They wanted to know what I knew about Mrs. Van Orner’s activities.” That much was true, at least.

Miss Yingling frowned. “I wonder how they got your name.”

“I understand they’re questioning all the people who helped Mrs. Van Orner at Rahab’s Daughters.”

“That’s not necessary, I’m sure,” Van Orner said, finally finding a reason for outrage.

“They’re trying to find out who might have wished Mrs. Van Orner harm,” Sarah said. “Her friends would know the people she had offended.”

“That seems reasonable,” Miss Yingling said to Van Orner.

He seemed to accept her judgment.

Sarah soldiered on, wondering how to get some information out of one of them. Maybe if she could get Miss Yingling alone . . . “I stopped by the rescue house yesterday, as soon as I heard, to see if I could be of any assistance. I was particularly worried about Amy . . .” Miss Yingling stiffened slightly. Sarah pretended not to notice. “But she wasn’t there. It seems she’d packed up and left the house that morning.”

Miss Yingling didn’t seem surprised. She glanced at Mr. Van Orner before replying. “Did she? I wonder where she went.”

“No one seemed to know. She didn’t even tell anyone she was leaving.”

“That’s a shame, but some of the women simply refuse to be helped. We can’t make them change, as much as we may want to.”

Somewhere, a door slammed, not a sound one expected to hear in a home where the occupants were in mourning. A servant would probably find herself turned out of the house for the lapse.

“Miss Yingling, I know it’s not my place to say anything, but Miss Biafore is very concerned about what’s going to happen to the rescue house now that . . . Well, with Mrs. Van Orner gone . . .”

Miss Yingling glanced at Mr. Van Orner again, and this time he looked away, clearly not pleased by the subject.

“I’m afraid we haven’t really had time to give the matter any thought,” Miss Yingling said.

Sarah wanted to press the issue, but before she could say anything, they heard a disturbance out in the hall and then the parlor door burst open. Sarah could hardly believe her eyes.

Amy strode into the room, her cheeks red with fury, but she stopped dead at the sight of Sarah and Mrs. Decker. She wore a muslin housedress that barely contained her full breasts, and her golden hair was loose around her shoulders. “I . . . I thought . . .” she stammered in mortification.

“I’m sure no one cares what you thought,” Miss Yingling said, obviously furious and also embarrassed at being proved a liar. “Mr. Van Orner has visitors. You have no business here.”

Sarah jumped to her feet. “Amy, I’m so glad to see you. How is the baby?”

Amy looked around wildly, searching for some clue as to how she should react. Mr. Van Orner and Miss Yingling simply glared at her, but Mrs. Decker apparently sensed an opportunity to be of service to her daughter.

“Is this the young lady whose baby you delivered at the—” She caught herself and covered her near-disastrous error with a charming smile. “Mrs. Brandt has been very worried about you.”

“Yes, I have,” Sarah said. “I would love to see the baby. May I?”

Amy was still looking somewhat desperate and finding no friendly face except Sarah’s. “If you’d like, I . . . Of course you can see him.” She whirled around and made her escape. Sarah had to hurry to catch up with her.

As she followed Amy up the stairs, she saw the girl was barefoot. She was making herself quite at home here. Amy didn’t look back until they’d reached the top of the stairs and gone down the hallway to one of the doors. Amy pushed it open and entered, leaving Sarah to follow.

Sarah saw at once it was a bedroom, furnished in the impersonal style used for occasional guests. A large market basket sat at the foot of the unmade bed. Sarah recognized it as the one she’d carried the baby in from the Mission the day they’d rescued Amy. Amy stopped beside it, turning back to Sarah.

“Here he is.”

Sarah closed the bedroom door behind her. She didn’t want anyone to hear the questions she needed to ask Amy. She went over to the basket and looked down. The tiny boy was sleeping peacefully, snuggled into his makeshift bed. “He looks well.”

“He’s fine. Did you think I wasn’t taking care of him?” She was still angry and taking it out on Sarah.

“I knew you’d take good care of him, but babies can get sick for no reason at all, and he’s been through a lot in his young life. When I heard you’d left the rescue house, I couldn’t imagine where you’d gone. I was very worried about you.”

She stuck out her lower lip like a spoiled child. “I couldn’t tell them I was coming here, could I?”

“I suppose not. Did Miss Yingling invite you here?” she tried.

“Miss Yingling!” she scoffed, amused by the thought. “Not likely.”

“But you did know Mrs. Van Orner was dead.”

“Sure. Miss Yingling was kind enough to send us a note, so we’d know the old witch was gone.”

Sarah managed not to wince. “It must’ve been a shock.”

“We were all surprised, if that’s what you mean. That Lisa, she bawled like she’d lost her own mother. You never saw such carrying on. The other girls, too, but I don’t think it was for the witch. They were just worried about who was going to feed them now.”

“And you decided Mr. Van Orner was going to feed you,” Sarah guessed.

Amy smiled the sly little grin Sarah was coming to know. “I told you little Gregory’s father was going to take care of us.”

Sarah glanced down at the child in the basket, her heart aching for the innocent babe who hadn’t asked for any of this.

“Oh, that’s just temporary,” Amy said, apparently thinking Sarah was judging her success by the quality of the baby’s sleeping arrangements. “He’s going to get a cradle and a nurse and everything brand-new.”

“That’s very nice.”

“I’m going to get everything brand-new, too, now that she’s gone.”

How very convenient for Amy. “Do you know what happened to Mrs. Van Orner?”

“She died. That’s all I need to know.”

“Miss Yingling said you had a conversation with her right before she left the rescue house the other day.”

“So what if I did?”

“I was just wondering what you talked about. Miss Biafore said Mrs. Van Orner was upset afterwards.”

“Upset? Is that what she claims? I don’t know how she could tell. The witch never let on that she was feeling anything at all. I never even saw her smile. She was a cold fish. I know everything about her. Gregory told me.”

Sarah’s stomach twisted at the thought of a man discussing his wife’s shortcomings with his mistress, but she managed not to betray her true feelings. “What did you and Mrs. Van Orner talk about that day?”

Amy smiled, apparently enjoying the memory. “She told me I was going to have to leave the rescue house. She said the other girls were complaining about me, but I knew the real reason. She couldn’t stand looking at me and my baby. She hated me because I had his baby and she never could.”

That conversation may have upset Amy, too. She wouldn’t have liked being threatened. “You must have been frightened at the thought of leaving the rescue house and having no place to go.”

“She couldn’t scare me. I told her she wouldn’t dare put me out because I’d tell Gregory what she’d done. I was going to tell him anyway—about the baby, I mean—the first chance I got. I knew he’d take care of me, too. He used to take good care of me, and I knew he would again, because of the baby. He always wanted a son, and now he has one.”

This certainly explained what Lisa Biafore had observed. Mrs. Van Orner would have been furious to hear her husband’s mistress challenge her. “Were you trying to hurt her?”

The question surprised her. “I just wanted her to know she couldn’t treat me like she treated all the other whores.”

“Do you know how she died?” Sarah asked again.

“I already told you . . . Wait, are you saying that’s why she died? Because I got her so mad? Did she have apoplexy or something?” The thought seemed to please her.

“No,” Sarah said, feeling sick. “She didn’t have apoplexy.”

Amy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I know, she got drunk and fell down! Gregory told me how she drank all the time. She drank something funny, something with mint in the name. He told me but I can’t remember. And then she ate peppermints so people wouldn’t know. He told me all about it, and when I smelled the peppermint on her, I knew it was all true. We used to lay in bed and laugh about how she carried a silver flask in her purse and took a nip whenever things didn’t go her way. That’s what happened, wasn’t it? After I told her what for, she took too many nips and fell down and broke her neck.”

“No, that’s not what happened.”

Someone tapped on the door, and it opened before anyone could respond. Miss Yingling stood in the doorway. “Mrs. Brandt, I’ll show you out.”

Sarah thought she should probably stay and question Amy further, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear any more of her answers. Grateful to Miss Yingling for the rescue, she bade Amy good-bye. “You can send for me if you need anything,” she added as she stepped out into the hallway.

Amy smiled. “I won’t need anything.”

Miss Yingling closed the door behind them with more force than was necessary. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be,” Sarah said. “I really am glad to know she and the baby are safe. I was picturing her carrying him around the streets and begging for food.”

“Amy isn’t very bright, but she knows how to take care of herself.”

Sarah decided not to comment. “Do you think there’s any chance that Rahab’s Daughters will continue its work?”

Miss Yingling raised her eyebrows, surprised at the question. “That’s up to Mrs. Spratt-Williams and the others, and they aren’t likely to consult me when they make their decision.”

“I don’t suppose Mr. Van Orner would help in any way.”

Miss Yingling came as close to laughing as Sarah had ever seen. “No, and I believe I can be certain about that.”

They’d reached the stairs, and Sarah stopped, forcing Miss Yingling to stop as well. She gave Sarah a questioning look.

“I’ve been thinking about Mrs. Van Orner’s death,” Sarah began, feeling her way carefully. “I got the idea that the police believe someone at the rescue house put the poison in her flask the day she died, but that’s not the only possibility.”

Miss Yingling held herself very still. “What other possibility is there?”

“Someone in this house might have done it. They could have even done it the day before, maybe days before, and Mrs. Van Orner just happened to drink from the flask that day.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you would know if that’s possible. Could she have been carrying the poisoned flask around for days?”

Miss Yingling considered the question carefully. “No.”

“You seem very sure.”

“She filled her flask every morning. You can ask her maid, if you like. She filled it every morning because it was empty from the day before. She filled it that morning as well.”

“You saw her?”

“No, of course not, but I know her habits. Mrs. Brandt, someone at the rescue house put the laudanum in her flask. That’s the only place it could have happened.”

“But who would have wanted her dead?”

Miss Yingling slowly turned her head until she was looking at the closed door to Amy’s bedroom. Then she slowly turned back to Sarah. “Someone who had something to gain by her death.”

Unfortunately, Sarah was starting to believe that, too.

“GOOD HEAVENS,” MRS. DECKER EXCLAIMED WHEN they were safely ensconced in the Decker carriage again. “I’ve never seen a prostitute before in my entire life and today I saw two.”

“And what do you know now that you didn’t know before?”

“That they look exactly like everyone else.”

Sarah couldn’t help smiling. “What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I thought they’d look . . . depraved or something. That girl Amy did look like a trollop, the way she was dressed, or rather, not dressed, but I gather she’d been resting or something.”

“I’m sure she was. According to the other women at the rescue house, that’s one thing she’s good at.”

Mrs. Decker leaned closer to Sarah, even though they were completely safe from eavesdroppers. “Did you get the impression when she burst in that she thought Van Orner and Miss Yingling were having a tête-à-tête?”

“I did. I’m sure that’s why she was so angry. She was quite shocked to see us sitting there with them.”

“I can’t imagine what Gregory plans to do with those two women now.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “I think you could if you gave it a moment’s thought.”

“Oh, Sarah, I don’t mean that. I mean how does a gentleman explain the presence of two young women in his home with no wife to serve as a chaperone?”

“Hundreds of gentlemen live with unchaperoned young women in their homes. They’re called maids.”

“Those women aren’t maids.”

“No, they aren’t, Mother, but he could pretend they’re some sort of servants.”

“His dead wife’s secretary and a woman who used to be his mistress and now has a child named after him?”

“I’ll admit, that is a bit difficult to explain.”

“And whatever her past, I’m sure Miss Yingling would like the world to believe her to be a respectable young woman now. Will she jeopardize that to remain in Gregory’s home?”

“I have no idea,” Sarah said with a weary sigh. “I don’t understand any of these people.”

“Did you learn anything at all while you were upstairs?”

Sarah mentally reviewed her conversations with Amy and Miss Yingling. “I learned that Amy did know about Mrs. Van Orner’s drinking. It seems Mr. Van Orner told her all about it, for her amusement.”

“That cad!” Mrs. Decker exclaimed.

“I suppose if you’re unfaithful to your wife in one way, it’s not a very big step to be unfaithful in all ways.”

“I believe I could forgive your father for seeking the delights of another woman’s bed, if he were truly repentant, but I would never forgive him for speaking about me to a trollop!”

“I know. That’s a completely different kind of betrayal. Amy said they’d lie in bed and laugh about her drinking.”

Mrs. Decker gasped in outrage.

“But all of that aside,” Sarah continued, “the fact is that Amy did know about Mrs. Van Orner’s flask.”

“Did you find out if someone could have put the poison in the flask the day before?”

“Miss Yingling said Mrs. Van Orner emptied her flask daily, so it seems likely someone put the laudanum in it the same day she died.”

“Someone at her house still could have put it in before she left home that morning.”

“Yes, but who?”

“Miss Yingling, for one. I don’t like her at all. She’s a bit of a . . . a prig, although it sounds odd to say such a thing about a woman with her past.”

“I know what you mean, though. I think she’s just trying very hard to be what she thinks a respectable woman should be.”

“Do you think she imagines Gregory is interested in her?”

Sarah considered this. “I have no idea, of course, but it’s interesting that while Mrs. Van Orner was alive, she took great pains to make herself plain and unattractive, but as soon as Mrs. Van Orner died, she changed her clothes and her hair and every part of her appearance to make herself as beautiful as possible.”

“A woman only does that when she wants a man to notice her,” Mrs. Decker said.

“Or when she wants to influence him,” Sarah said. “According to Malloy, she first made the change when she went to speak with Van Orner about allowing the police to investigate the murder.”

Mrs. Decker considered this. “Gregory could easily have forbidden the police from getting involved. He could have just claimed Vivian died of some mysterious ailment and let her be buried quietly. Even if he suspected she’d been murdered, no one wants their family secrets dragged through the newspapers, and they certainly don’t want to be involved with the police . . . No offense to Mr. Malloy, but you know very well—”

“Yes, I know very well what people in your social set think of the police, and you’re right, no one with the means to prevent it would allow them to be involved in their lives.”

“So Vivian’s death could have passed with little notice from any but her closest friends, and yet Gregory chose to let Mr. Malloy investigate.”

Sarah was beginning to see the point her mother was trying to make. “Yes, why would he do such a thing? If he was devoted to his wife, he might want justice, but . . .”

“Believe me, he was not devoted to Vivian.”

“Then it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Just as important, why did Miss Yingling work so hard to convince him to accept Mr. Malloy’s assistance?”

“And she did work hard. She changed her entire appearance, becoming a woman he couldn’t fail to find appealing before making her case to him.”

“Even more amazing, she succeeded,” Mrs. Decker said. “She must have some influence over him, more than his wife’s secretary should have, at any rate.”

“Miss Yingling thinks Amy poisoned Mrs. Van Orner.”

Mrs. Decker looked at Sarah in amazement. “Does she? How do you know?”

“She made it very clear to me that she believes Amy is the only one with something to gain from Mrs. Van Orner’s death.”

“I don’t know if she’s the only one, but she certainly did stand to gain. She’d get nothing but crumbs as long as Vivian was alive. Gregory might have taken her as his mistress again, but he’d never acknowledge the child openly. Vivian would have made sure of it. She’d never allow him to humiliate her like that.”

“How could she have stopped him?”

“She would make sure he understood that she would win the support of the wives of all his friends. He’d be socially ostracized. Even though his friends might not care what he had done, their wives would make certain he was never invited anywhere. The threat of such a fate would be enough to ensure his discretion.”

“Now he doesn’t have to worry about that,” Sarah mused.

“No, he doesn’t, but I still don’t understand why he’s letting the police investigate the murder.”

“I got the feeling the whole thing was Miss Yingling’s idea. She dressed up and went to see him, sort of like in the Bible, the way Queen Esther dressed up to go see the king to plead for the safety of her people.”

“It’s a trick as old as time.”

“And she convinced him to do it.”

“Yes, she did,” Mrs. Decker said with a frown. “But why? Why would she care so much?”

“Maybe we misjudged her. She had good reason to be grateful to Mrs. Van Orner, who’d rescued her from the depths of degradation and given her a place in her own household and a respectable way to earn her living. I can’t even imagine how grateful I’d be to someone who had done that for me.”

“You’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way before. She hasn’t shown it, but she must be devastated that Vivian is dead.”

“And if Vivian was murdered, Miss Yingling would surely want to find out who did it and see them punished.”

“That would be perfectly natural, and the only way to find the killer is to involve the police.”

Sarah nodded. “So that explains why she went to so much trouble to make sure Mrs. Van Orner’s death was investigated.”

“And if they find out Amy is the killer, she’ll be rid of an annoying problem into the bargain.”

“Yes, everything would work out very neatly for Miss Yingling . . . but only if Amy is the killer.”