“Did he have any money to pay them with?”

“Mrs. Gittings was too clever to give either of them money. They would be gone in an instant.”

“Along with your livelihood,” Frank remarked, earning another scowl from the Professor.

“I will notify you immediately if he returns here,” he said, ignoring Frank’s provocation.

“Do you think he will?”

“He won’t go far without Serafina.”

“Ah, yes, young love,” Frank said sarcastically.

The Professor sniffed in derision. “Love or not, she’s his livelihood, too.”

Another good reason to lock Serafina up, Frank thought. “I’m taking Serafina in.”

“What do you mean?” the Professor asked in alarm.

“I mean I’m going to lock her up until we find Nicola, so they don’t both disappear.”

“But what about her other clients?” he protested. “They’re already scheduled to come. They’ll be expecting her to be here for a sitting.”

“Then you can tell them how lucky they were not to be here when Mrs. Gittings got stabbed,” Frank said.

He left the Professor sputtering more protests and walked down the hall to the parlor, where the three women were still waiting. He pushed open the door and found them huddled together on the sofa, Serafina in the middle while Sarah and her mother tried to comfort her while she wept. Damn, Sarah must have already told her she was going to jail.

They all looked up, and Sarah rose to her feet, that determined look on her lovely face that always meant she was going to do something to make him angry.

“We’ve worked everything out, Mr. Malloy,” she told him. “Serafina is going to come and stay with me until you find Nicola.”

8

SARAH BRACED HERSELF FOR MALLOY’S RESPONSE, BUT SHE wasn’t going to back down. She didn’t like the idea of an innocent girl like Serafina going to The Tombs, which was what they called the city jail because a creative architect had designed it to look like an Egyptian tomb. Heaven only knew what might happen to her there among the prostitutes and hardened criminals she would encounter.

Malloy said, “Can I speak to you in private, Mrs. Brandt?” He didn’t look angry exactly, but then he wouldn’t want her mother or Serafina to see that he was angry with her.

“Certainly,” she said and preceded him across the hall into the office again. The instant the door was closed behind them and before he could explode, she launched into her justification. “I can’t allow you to lock a girl like that up in the Tombs. You know what that place is like, and besides, if she’s locked up, she won’t have any chance at all to contact Nicola, so how can you hope to find him?”

“Do you know what you’re getting into?” he asked, still scowling at her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, Nicola might very well be the killer. Do you want to take a chance of him coming to your house?”

“Nicola isn’t the killer. Serafina swears he was playing the violin, and my mother heard him. Besides, even if he’s guilty, he’d have no reason to harm any of us,” she insisted, “especially if we’re protecting Serafina.”

“He would if he thought you were trying to get him caught.”

“We’re not going to get him caught. How could we? And why would he come to my house at all? He just has to stay away, and he’ll be safe,” she pointed out reasonably.

“All right.”

Sarah gaped at him. She’d never known him to be so obliging. “All right?” she echoed uncertainly.

“Yes, it makes perfect sense to take Serafina to your house. She probably knows where Nicola is hiding, and maybe you can get it out of her. Or if Nicola really is innocent, maybe you can find out something from Serafina that will help figure out who the real killer is.”

Sarah couldn’t think of a thing to say.

Malloy studied her for a moment and his mouth quirked in what might have been a smile. “Was that all it took?”

“What?” she asked, completely bewildered.

“To shut you up,” he clarified with a definite grin this time. “All it took was agreeing with you.”

She glared at him. “If you’d ever tried agreeing with me before, you’d have known that,” she snapped.

“I had to wait until you were right about something,” he replied, then hurried to open the door before she could smack him, which she dearly wanted to do. “Get Serafina out of here.”

Sarah made a rude noise. “I’ll take her upstairs to pack some things,” she said, breezing by him out the door and into the hall. Being right should feel better than this, she decided. But at least she’d gotten her way about Serafina.

Serafina and Mrs. Decker looked up expectantly when Sarah went back into the parlor. “He said you could come home with me,” she reported.

“Thank heaven,” Mrs. Decker said, and Serafina breathed something in Italian that might have been a prayer.

“I’ll take you upstairs so you can pack some clothes,” Sarah said. “Then my mother’s carriage can take us to my house.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Brandt,” Serafina said, her eyes still wet with tears. “I could not bear the thought of going to jail.”

Sarah smiled reassuringly and led her out into the hall and up the stairs. The one police officer who had been left to guard the door watched them curiously but made no move to follow.

Upstairs, Serafina entered one of the bedrooms. She pulled a battered carpetbag out from under the bed and set it on the coverlet. She pulled it open and checked inside, then quickly closed it again. Then she looked up and managed a smile. “This won’t take long,” she promised, and went to the chest of drawers. She pulled out some undergarments and quickly bundled them up and stuffed them into the bag. She only had two dresses hanging in the clothespress, and she quickly packed them as well, along with a pair of house slippers and a nightdress. The few toiletries on the washstand went in last, and then she buckled the bag securely. “I am ready.”

As they made their way down the stairs again, they found the Professor waiting for them at the bottom. “You shouldn’t leave,” he told her sternly.

“I have no choice,” she replied testily. “If I do not go with Mrs. Brandt, they will put me in jail.”

The Professor frowned at her. “What about your other clients? Will you come back to see them?”

“I… I do not know,” she said, glancing uncertainly at Sarah.

“When they read about Mrs. Gittings in the newspapers, I doubt they’ll even show up,” Malloy said, coming back in the front door. “Mrs. Decker’s carriage is out front. I still don’t see any reporters, so you should be able to get away without anybody seeing you.”

Mrs. Decker stepped into the hallway from the parlor. “Come, my dear,” she said to Serafina. “Everything will be all right, you’ll see.”

Sarah doubted this very much, but she didn’t want to upset Serafina. The girl went to Mrs. Decker and the two started toward the front door, which the cop was holding for them.

Malloy touched Sarah’s arm as she passed. “Tell Maeve to find out as much as she can about her,” he said softly, so that only she could hear.

Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise. “So that’s why you wanted to send her to my house!”

He shrugged, feigning innocence. “I’ll come by tomorrow to see how you’re doing with her.”

“Catherine will be very glad to see you,” she told him acidly, and followed her mother and Serafina out to the waiting carriage.

The driver was trying to take Serafina’s bag, but she was saying, “No, please, I want to keep it with me!”

“It’s all right, Peter,” Mrs. Decker told him, and he nodded and helped them all into the carriage.

“I can’t believe there are no reporters here yet,” Sarah said as the carriage pulled out into the street.

“Yes, we’ve been very lucky,” her mother agreed.

“Why would reporters be here?” Serafina asked.

“Because they like to write about sensational murders,” Sarah explained. “Lots of people will buy their newspapers to read about them.”