The fellow had the girl’s hand tucked into the crook of his arm, and they turned in the opposite direction from where he and Mrs. Brandt were standing. He should give them a minute to get a start. If he followed them right off, it would look suspicious.
He could hear Mrs. Brandt breathing. Her breath came quickly. Probably she was frightened. This sort of thing wasn’t something a midwife usually did in the course of her work. Maybe she was even worried some harm might come to the girl. It was possible, he supposed, but not very likely, not with Frank on his tail.
Frank could feel her breath on his cheek. He could feel the sweat forming all over his body. The night was warm, but not that warm. He was just standing too close to Mrs. Brandt was all. He’d fix that in a minute. There, they were turning the comer.
“Come on,” he said, pushing himself away from the wall with a sense of relief. Action, that’s what he needed. Anything to distract him from thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking.
He didn’t wait to see if she was coming. She’d be with him every step of the way. He knew he’d probably have to force her to leave when they caught up with George, too. She’d want to hear everything he had to say. Well, he’d deal with that, too.
He started down the sidewalk in the direction they had gone, watching the traffic for a break so they could cross and follow the other couple. Unconsciously, he reached for her arm, clasping it tightly so she would be with him when he saw an opportunity to cross. It came unexpectedly, a break between two wagons, and he fairly dragged her across the street, just barely missing a pile of horse manure.
She was sputtering a little, but he ignored that. He let go of her arm, and by then they were at the comer. He could see the couple walking up ahead, heading downtown. The girl was still clinging to his arm. Was she looking back? Damn her, she’d tip him off that they were being followed!
No, wait, she was just talking to him. He was leaning down to hear her better. She was pointing, and he reacted in some surprise, but he followed her lead. They disappeared into an alley.
“Smart girl,” Frank said in approval to Mrs. Brandt, who was struggling to keep up with him.
“I think I’m starting to understand why there are no female police officers,” she said breathlessly. “It’s too hard to keep up the chase in skirts.”
He tried not to smile, but he couldn’t help it. They were almost to the alley into which the other couple had disappeared. He pulled up short and caught her arm again.
“Stay here,” he warned. “When the girl comes out, take her away. I don’t care where you go, just get away from here.”
“Will Lisle be in danger after this?” she asked, new fears widening her eyes and flushing her cheeks. Or maybe it was just the chase that had flushed her cheeks.
“Not if he isn’t the killer, and if he is the killer, then I’ll arrest him, so no, don’t worry about her. She’ll be safe. I just don’t want either of you around when I question him. Do you understand?”
She didn’t like it, but she nodded. And she stayed put when he went into the alley. Thank God for that.
The evening shadows were long now, and no sunlight entered here even at midday. Frank needed a moment to accustom himself to the darkness. He didn’t need his eyes to find them, though. He could hear the sounds of their kissing from here. Either the girl was really enthusiastic or she was making sure Frank found them. Considering she thought this fellow might’ve killed her friend, Frank thought it was probably the latter.
George muttered something Frank couldn’t understand. He carefully picked his way through the piles of trash, trying not to alert George before he was in a position to overpower him. By the time he was close enough, however, he realized George probably wouldn’t have noticed a brass band marching by.
“Hello there, George,” Frank said amiably, startling the fellow as he grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.
“What the he-” he cried, ending on a gasp of pain as Frank nearly wrenched his shoulder from its socket.
The girl cried out, but whether it was from fear or in protest, he didn’t particularly care. “Get out of here,” he told her. “Go on now, run.”
She hesitated a moment, looking at George’s grimace of pain, but she apparently decided to obey him. She darted away. Frank figured Mrs. Brandt would catch her up and take care of her. At any rate, she was no longer his concern.
“Are you her father?” George said, his voice high with terror. “Stepfather, I mean. Look, it’s not what you think!”
“How do you know what I think?” Frank inquired genially as he smashed George’s face into the brick wall.
“Owww!” he cried, but he didn’t struggle. He had more sense than that. “She was willing!” he tried. “I didn’t force her. It was even her idea!”
“That’s not exactly what a father wants to hear, George,” Frank said. “Maybe you should try a different story.” He gave George’s arm a little pull.
“Owww! I didn’t mean no harm!”
“What did you mean, then, bringing a girl into an alley like that?” Frank asked, his voice still friendly, even if his actions were not. “Maybe you had something in mind. Like maybe you were going to start hitting her.”
“Hitting her?” he gasped in surprise. “Why would I do that?”
“Oh, maybe because you hate her. You hate all women, don’t you, George? You think they all deserve to die.”
“Die? What’re you talking about? Who are you?” he was starting to sound frantic now.
“I’m Detective Sergeant Frank Malloy of the New York City police, and I’m investigating the deaths of several young women in the city.”
“What do you want with me, then?” he asked, his words distorted because Frank was pressing his face a little harder into the bricks. And because he was terrified.
“Because you knew them. You knew all of them,” Frank said, exaggerating a bit for effect. “And we know you bought at least one of them a gift right before she died. Also very interesting, she was killed right after you got angry because she danced with someone else one night.”
“Who…? Gerda? Is that who you mean?” He sounded almost relieved. “You think I killed her?”
“The thought did cross my mind, especially after I heard you got into a fight with her over her seeing another man.”
“If that’s all you want, you can let me go.” He sounded relieved. “You don’t have to hurt me anymore. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
“Why don’t you get started, then, and when I’ve heard something I like, I’ll think about letting you go.” He gave George’s arm a little twist that made him shudder with pain.
“I did give her a hat,” he said quickly, his voice high again and much faster. He was in a hurry to get this over. “She and I… Well, she earned it, is all I can say. She liked pretty things and was willing to do whatever it took to get them.”
“It’s not very gentlemanly to talk about a lady like that, George,” he chastised him.
“Gerda was no lady,” he said. “You can ask anybody.”
“Maybe I will. So you bought her this hat, and then she found somebody with more brass and gave you the gate.”
“Made me mad!” George admitted. “One day she was my girl, and the next day she wouldn’t even dance with me. Said she found somebody could give her even nicer things. Showed me these red shoes he’d give her. They wasn’t even good quality! I know quality. That’s one thing I know. But she didn’t care. They was flashy. That’s all she cared about. She never cared a fig for me.”