“Mr. Ellsworth had nothing to do with Anna Blake’s murder,” she tried shouting above the din.
“How do you know?” one of them asked. “Was he with you that night?”
“Why are you trying to protect him?” another called.
Malloy was right, she thought in disgust. There was no way to convince these jackals of the truth. They were only interested in uncovering a scandal-or inventing one. She shoved her way through them and up her front steps and into her house, slamming the door behind her.
Once inside, she went to the window to see what they would do. Deprived of their latest prey, they returned to their vigil at the Ellsworths’ front stoop, waiting for a new victim. Poor Mrs. Ellsworth, held prisoner in her own home. Nelson, at least, had gotten himself into this mess with his poor judgment, but his mother had done nothing at all. Sarah wondered if they had enough food or if they needed anything. At least their captivity meant they hadn’t been able to get out to buy a newspaper and had been spared that outrage.
Sarah went to her own pantry and found a few potatoes, half a loaf of stale bread, and a bag of beans. She’d shop for them tomorrow, if Malloy still hadn’t solved the case by then. In the meantime, at least they wouldn’t starve. Throwing the food items into a market basket, Sarah went to her back door and checked to make sure no reporters had taken up a vigil in the alley. Finding the way clear, she hurried next door and banged on the door.
Mrs. Ellsworth peered out before letting her in. “Oh, Mrs. Brandt, thank heaven you’re here! I’m half insane with worrying. Has Mr. Malloy found the killer yet?”
“Not yet,” she said, “but I’m sure it won’t be much longer.” Malloy wouldn’t thank her for the lie, but it was all she had to offer. “Where’s Nelson?”
“Up in his room. I think he’s a little embarrassed about everything that happened, and he’s also mourning that poor girl. He really cared for her. And when he saw what they wrote about him in the newspaper…” Her voice broke.
“How did you see a newspaper?” Sarah asked in dismay.
“Mr. Holsinger across the street brought one over this morning, before the reporters got here.”
“How thoughtful of him,” Sarah said sarcastically.
“Oh, he wasn’t being kind,” Mrs. Ellsworth assured her. “He was furious that Nelson had brought a scandal into the neighborhood. He wanted to know what we were going to do about it.”
“What did he have in mind?” Sarah asked in astonishment.
“Heaven knows,” Mrs. Ellsworth said with a sigh, sinking down into one of the kitchen chairs. She looked as if she hadn’t slept much the night before, and Sarah wanted to check her pulse and her heartbeat to make sure she wasn’t truly ill. Perhaps she’d bring her medical bag when she came the next time.
Sarah set her market basket on the table. “I didn’t know if you had any food in the house, but I knew you couldn’t go shopping, so I brought over what I had.”
“That’s kind of you, but neither of us feels very hungry, I’m afraid.”
“You can’t stop eating. You’ll make yourself sick. How are you feeling?”
Mrs. Ellsworth looked up at Sarah through bloodshot eyes. “Frightened,” she said. “What if Mr. Malloy can’t find the real killer, and they arrest Nelson? He could be executed!”
“Don’t think that way! Malloy will find the killer, and if he doesn’t, I will. Nelson will never go to jail,” she promised rashly.
Mrs. Ellsworth smiled sadly. “You are such a good friend, Mrs. Brandt.”
Sarah returned her smile. “As I recall, you’ve been a good friend to me, too. Now let’s peel these potatoes and see if we can’t get some hot food into the two of you.”
Mrs. Ellsworth found a knife, and Sarah took it from her and began to peel. “Which newspaper did Mr. Holsinger bring you?” she asked after a moment.
“The World,” she said with a frown of distaste. “I wonder if it was written by that rude young man who told us Nelson had been arrested.”
“It seems likely,” Sarah said, remembering him only too well.
“He looked like such a nice young man, but… Can you tell me, Mrs. Brandt, are the things he said about Nelson true?”
“I’m sure very little of it was true,” Sarah hedged.
“But was that poor girl with child, like the paper said? Nelson won’t talk about it at all. I think he’s trying to protect me, but the truth can’t be any worse than what I’m imagining.”
“She’d told Nelson she was with child,” Sarah said, deciding that telling the truth was really the only way to protect her friend. “He thought perhaps she might be mistaken, so he asked me to visit her to make sure.”
“What a cad!” she exclaimed in outrage. “I’d never expect my own son to behave so unchivalrously! To seduce an innocent girl was bad enough. He should have offered to marry her at once!”
“He did,” Sarah assured her. “But for some reason, she didn’t want to marry him.”
This shocked Mrs. Ellsworth as much as it had Sarah. “Why on earth not?”
“According to Nelson, she didn’t think she was good enough for him or something. At least that’s what she said. Nelson is a modest man, and he was afraid she just couldn’t stand the idea of being married to him.”
“That’s ridiculous! Nelson is a fine catch, and a girl in her position would marry a hunchbacked imbecile, in any case, just to give her child a name.”
Sarah could only agree. “I don’t pretend to understand any of this. I’m just repeating what I was told. Nelson thought that if there wasn’t a child, Anna wouldn’t be forced into a marriage she didn’t want.”
“So he asked you to make sure,” Mrs. Ellsworth guessed. “And did you?”
“No. Miss Blake wouldn’t even speak with me. And the next day she was murdered.”
“No wonder they think Nelson did it,” the old woman sighed. “A man who didn’t want to be forced into marriage kills his paramour in a fit of rage.”
“Nelson would never have a fit of rage,” Sarah reminded her.
“Oh, Mrs. Brandt,” she cried, burying her head in her hands. “What are we going to do?”
Sarah only wished she had an answer. “Malloy will find the killer,” she tried again.
“But if he doesn’t, Nelson will go on trial, and the newspapers have already convicted him. Remember what happened to that Italian girl? The one who killed her lover? She only did what any woman would have done in her position, and the newspapers made her out to be the devil incarnate!”
“Not every woman in her position would have slashed the man’s throat in a public place,” Sarah reminded her.
“But don’t you agree she was justified? He’d seduced her and then refused to marry her and called her names in front of all those people and then said he was sailing back to Italy to leave her in disgrace. But when the newspapers got through with her, she was a wicked vixen who’d killed an upstanding gentleman for no reason at all. And that’s what they’re doing to Nelson!”
“But don’t forget, they’re giving that girl a new trial, and this time the newspapers are telling the truth about what happened.” Indeed, they’d painted the victim as black this time as they’d painted Maria Barberi the first time.
“Only because some rich woman championed that girl’s cause and got her a new trial. Unless someone champions Nelson, he’s going to die.” Mrs. Ellsworth’s wrinkled face crumbled in grief and then she was sobbing into her hands.
Sarah took the woman into her arms and offered what comfort she could, but even as she patted the bowed shoulders, she knew she had to do more. She had to do what Mrs. Ellsworth had said and what Malloy had warned her against, because if she didn’t try to save Nelson Ellsworth, he very likely would be executed. And how would she comfort his mother then?