Besides, the family might not appreciate visitors right now, after what they went through last night.”
“I guess you’re right,” Sarah said, knowing she was. “I suppose if they need me, they’ll send for me.”
“Of course they will, dear. And if you simply can’t stay away, you might consider a visit to the mission a little later on. Surely, someone there can tell you everything you’d want to know,” she added with a wink.
Frank wasn’t surprised at the summons to Roosevelt’s office when he arrived at Headquarters the next morning. Old Teeth and Spectacles was in early this morning, and Frank had a feeling he probably hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. When he saw him, he was sure of it.
“Mr. Malloy, we can’t have the Irish and the Italians rioting in the street,” he said before Frank had even closed the door behind him.
“No, sir, we can’t.”
“Have you made any progress on the Irish girl’s murder yet?”
“No, sir. I was at the Ruoccos’ last night, questioning the family, when the riot started.”
“Do you still think one of them is the murderer?”
“That’s the most logical solution, but it’s hard to figure out why they would kill her. The boy she was married to had the best reason, but I’m almost certain he didn’t do it.
By all accounts, he was passed out drunk that night anyway, and I don’t think he’d even realized yet what all this meant for him.”
Roosevelt removed his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I had a visit from Tammany Hall last night,” he said grimly. “And Commissioner Parker.” Tammany Hall was where the Democratic politicians held court. He meant that someone in power there had accompanied Parker.
Although Roosevelt liked people to think he was in charge of the department, he was only one of four police commissioners. Parker was another of the four, and as a loyal Tammany soldier, he was the bane of Roosevelt’s existence.
“They came to my home,” Roosevelt added with quiet outrage. “They want this matter settled, and they want the girl’s mother—what’s her name?”
“Mrs. O’Hara.”
“Mrs. O’Hara. They want Mrs. O’Hara to have the child.”
Frank managed not to wince. “But the law says—”
“I know what the law says. I also know that this O’Hara woman has been raising Cain down at Tammany Hall, and the penny press has got everybody in an uproar. When we questioned the rioters we arrested last night, we found out they’d been organized by the Ward Heelers!” The Heelers were the political hacks assigned to organizing voters and making sure they made it to the polls to vote for the proper—that is, Democratic—candidates, as well as per-forming whatever other duties might be required of them.
Frank hadn’t realized that starting riots was one of those duties.
“Are you saying Tammany Hall is behind all the trouble?
Why would they care about one baby?”
“I think they want to demonstrate to their constituency that they have the power to control even me,” Roosevelt admitted. Frank could see how much this infuriated him.
“The trouble is, I can see the justice in this woman’s claim.
If someone in that house killed the baby’s mother, then they’ve got no right to the child.”
Frank had to agree with that, too. “We don’t know if one of the Ruoccos killed her, though.”
“Do you have other suspects?”
“Not any good ones.” Frank thought of the foreman at the sweatshop where Nainsi had worked.
“I don’t know how long Tammany will wait before they organize another riot, and the next time the Ruoccos might not be so lucky. Would it be possible to convince them to give the child to Mrs. O’Hara?”
Frank remembered Maria Ruocco holding the baby in her arms. She wouldn’t give the boy up willingly, but she wasn’t the power in that household. “Maybe,” Frank said,
“but they wouldn’t listen to me.”
“What about Officer Donatelli?”
“They don’t trust the police, even when the cop is Italian.
They don’t trust anybody else with authority, either. According to Donatelli, they only trust their own blood relatives.”
“But there must be someone else they’d listen to,” Roosevelt argued. “Or at least someone who could reason with them. It could save their lives!”
Frank gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t say her name. He wouldn’t even think it, not even to save every last one of the Ruoccos. “Maybe Donatelli knows somebody,” he offered.
“Somebody Italian who could influence them.”
“Dee-lightful,” Roosevelt declared. “The boy is upstairs in the dormitory. The desk sergeant told me they didn’t get finished with the prisoners until early this morning, so he stayed here.” He hurried to the door and ordered Miss Kelly to send for him.
While they waited, Frank filled Roosevelt in on everything he’d learned so far in the case. Hearing how little it was discouraged even him. He’d said before that all the Ruoccos had to do was keep quiet, and they’d never find Nainsi’s killer. He’d gotten them to talk, at least a little, but he was still no closer to the truth.
Donatelli appeared a few minutes later, looking as if he’d only had a few hours of sleep—which he had. His uniform, Frank noticed, looked a little less crisp than usual, but not too bad under the circumstances. Roosevelt quickly explained why they’d summoned him.
“Oh, yes, sir,” Donatelli said, his voice still thick from sleep. “I know who could talk to them—Mrs. Brandt.”
Frank almost choked.
Roosevelt pulled off his spectacles again. “Mrs. Brandt?”
he echoed with an accusing glance at Frank that caught him mid-wince. “Mrs. Sarah Brandt?”
“I don’t know her given name, sir,” Donatelli said, “but she’s the midwife who delivered the baby.”
“You didn’t mention Mrs. Brandt was involved in this case, Mr. Malloy,” Roosevelt said, less than pleased.
“She isn’t involved,” Frank lied. “She just delivered the baby.”
“But she also—” Donatelli began but caught himself when Frank glared at him.
“What did she also do?” Roosevelt asked Frank in a tone that brooked no evasion.
“She helped the Ruocco woman take care of the baby after the mother died,” Frank admitted reluctantly.
“They’d trust her, then?”
Frank doubted it. “I don’t know,” he said instead. “And I’m not even sure Mrs. Brandt would be willing to ask them to give up the baby. The Ruocco woman is pretty fond of it, I understand.”
“But Sarah would see the wisdom of it,” Roosevelt argued, using her first name to remind Frank he’d known her all his life. “She’d understand that it’s to protect the family and for the good of the whole city.”
Frank suspected Sarah would choose the good of one baby over the good of a whole city any day of the week, but he refrained from saying so. “Mrs. O’Hara doesn’t really have the means to take care of a baby,” he argued.
“Tammany is going to give her some kind of a pension, I’m told. They want this badly, Malloy. They aren’t going to let the matter rest, and if they don’t, I imagine Ugo Ruocco will make sure they have a fight on their hands. We can’t have these two factions rioting in the streets every night.”
Frank thought Roosevelt was right about Ugo putting up a fight. He wouldn’t sit by and see his family attacked, but he certainly had no loyalty to the bastard child of a woman who had lied to his nephew. He’d help put pressure on the family.
“I’m not sure it’s really safe for Mrs. Brandt to go down to Little Italy,” Frank tried, grasping at his last straw.