Mrs. Tucker and I looked at each other in silence.
“You shouldn’t have let her go,” she said.
“What choice did I have? They are her family—or she is about to be part of their family.”
“Then why wasn’t she wearing a ring, if she was promised to him?”
“Maybe they don’t in their society. Maybe he was going to give her the ring when they met here in America, or maybe it was stolen from her in Central Park. Who knows, maybe she was robbed of all her possessions.”
Mrs. Tucker shook her head again. “I didn’t like the look of them, myself.”
“They looked prosperous enough,” I said. “And they are taking on a tough assignment, restoring her to health, so they must care about her.”
“I’m glad you got their address. If I were you, I’d go and check on her for myself. Just in case.”
“I will,” I said. “And I expect that Dr. Birnbaum will want to as well, even if they don’t wish him to continue with his treatments.”
I felt bleak and empty as I went upstairs. Mrs. T. was already bustling around the room, stripping the bed and folding the sheets for the laundry.
“They walked off with your blanket as well,” she said accusingly. “The darned cheek of it.”
“They’re welcome to the blanket,” I said, “as long as it keeps her warm.”
Then I started to cry. I don’t know why I felt so strongly about her, but ever since I stumbled over her in Central Park I felt as if she were calling to me to protect her. And I had just let her go.
Still, I now had one less item on my plate, one less thing to worry about, which was good. This could be a day for sewing up loose ends, to use yet another household meta phor. I would go to see the Mendelbaums with my report. I just wished I could tie up my theater case as well. It irked me that I was no closer to unmasking the ghost. And now Blanche had virtually decided that I was useless and was going to terminate my contract at the end of the week. My only chance of getting anywhere was to enlist Ryan O’Hare as my spy. He heard all the theater gossip. Surely someone must have dropped a hint if they knew anything at all.
Mrs. Tucker had finished tidying up. “Well that’s that then, I suppose,” she said, looking sadly at me. “You’ll not be needing me anymore.”
“I suppose not, Mrs. Tucker. And I’m most grateful to you. You did a wonderful job looking after her. Let me give you what I owe you.”
I went to the drawer in the kitchen cabinet and took out the money. I gave her more than we had agreed on.
“That’s very generous of you, miss,” she said. “I’ll make you a nice macaroni pudding for your lunch, before I go, shall I?”
“No, thank you. I’m not hungry.”
“It’s all for the best,” she said as she collected her hat and shawl.
“I hope so,” I whispered as I stood alone in my dark hallway. Then I saw my gloomy face in the mirror. No use in standing around moping. At least I had one case I could conclude successfully. I spruced myself up, put on my long woolen cape, and headed uptown to the apartment of the Mendelbaums on the Upper West Side.
I was greeted by a prim maid and shown into the front hall while she went to announce my arrival. I could tell instantly that my timing had been bad. I could hear the chink of dishes and the sound of luncheon conversation coming from a door on my right. After a short wait Mrs. Mendelbaum appeared, wiping her hands on her napkin.
“Miss Murphy,” she said, looking a little flustered. “How nice of you to call. Unfortunately, I am currently entertaining guests to luncheon.” She shot a worried glance toward the dining room.
“I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized the time,” I said. “I should call back later, when your guests have gone.”
“That might be better,” she said, “Unless you would care to join us? We’re already halfway through the main course, though.”
“No, thank you. I don’t think that would be appropriate, or fair to your guests,” I said. “Should I return in an hour or so?”
“Very good,” she said. “That would be an excellent idea.”
She looked much relieved as she headed back into the dining room and I made for the front door. I spent an hour kicking my heels in a ladies’ tea room on Amsterdam Avenue, where I suspected the cheese sandwich had been on display in the window for several days, then returned to the Mendelbaums’ apartment building.
“Mrs. Mendelbaum is expecting me,” I said to the maid this time. “She asked me to return in an hour and I have done so.”
“Very good, miss. Come this way then.” She took me down the hall to the doorway past the dining room and ushered me inside. “Miss Murphy has returned as requested, madam.”
I stepped into a warm sitting room and was surprised to find that Mrs. Mendelbaum was not alone. She jumped to her feet as I came in.
“Oh, Miss Murphy. So soon? I’m sorry but my luncheon guests haven’t all departed yet.”
I wasn’t going to disappear again. It was a long trip for me to the Upper West Side.
A young woman who had been sitting on a sofa also got to her feet. “We were just leaving, weren’t we, Leon?”
I looked at the young man whose hand she was tugging to pull him up from the sofa. It was Mr. Roth.
“There’s no rush, Lanie,” he said. “Let us digest our luncheon, for goodness sake.”
Mrs. Mendelbaum’s eyes darted from Mr. Roth to me. “Miss Murphy, may I present my daughter Lanie and her betrothed, Mr. Leon Roth.”
“How do you do,” I said and politely shook hands.
“I suggest you two go on your walk, if you’re going,” Mrs. Mendelbaum said. “You know how early it gets dark at this time of year.”
“Yes, I am determined to walk to the park and back,” Lanie said. “Come, Leon.”
He got up, unwillingly, and followed her from the room.
Mrs. Mendelbaum’s gaze turned to an elderly woman. “And you, Mama. Isn’t it time for you nap?”
“I can tell when I’m not wanted,” the old woman said, rising from her chair with difficulty and shuffling out of the door.
Mrs. Mendelbaum and I stood facing each other in awkward silence.
“Please take a seat, Miss Murphy,” she said at last. “It was good of you to come.”
“Rather awkward under the circumstances,” I said. “I see you have already made up your minds about the suitability of Mr. Roth as a husband for your daughter. You didn’t need my help after all.”
“It was our daughter who rushed things along, Miss Murphy. She took one look at the young man and fell hopelessly in love. She is an impulsive girl, and she has her father wrapped around her little finger. He doesn’t deny her anything she wants.”
“I wish you could have waited until I submitted my report,” I said, “because I believe I have uncovered some not-so-savory details about Mr. Roth.”
“Oh dear. How vexing.” She glanced at the door as her daughter’s high-pitched laugh echoed down the hallway, followed by the slamming of the front door.
“They’ve gone,” she said with a sigh of relief. “Now please feel free to speak. You do not think it wise that Lanie should proceed with this engagement?”
“I don’t, Mrs. Mendelbaum.” I leaned closer to her. “I followed Mr. Roth for several days and I am disappointed to report that his moral character is not all that it should be.”
“Mercy me,” she said. “What can you mean?”
“I mean that he hangs around stage doors and picks up chorus girls.”
She put her hand to her impressive bosom and started to chuckle. “Is that all? Surely every young man in New York has had a yen for chorus girls at some time or other. It’s a natural part of growing up, Miss Murphy.”
“But I heard rumors that he does not treat them well. That he is—well, rather rough with them. That he makes strange demands of them.”
“What kind of demands?”
Since I hadn’t been privy to that conversation I couldn’t supply her with details. “Just that they were afraid to go with him. That should be enough to warn you, shouldn’t it?”
Instead of agreeing with me, she shook her head, still smiling. “This is of no importance for Lanie’s future, Miss Murphy. After they are married there will be no more evenings at the theater. No more chorus girls. The boy will learn to settle down and be a good husband and doting father. We shall make sure of that. I was more concerned about his financial status.”
“His financial affairs seem above reproach,” I said. “He is thought of highly among his colleagues and at his bank, one gathers.”
“Then that is all that matters. Young men are expected to sow their wild oats, Miss Murphy. You’re no more than a slip of a girl yourself. You have probably led a sheltered life and never encountered such things, but young men with a good income make a practice of wining and dining chorus girls. They may get drunk and act foolishly from time to time. But it all stops when they marry.”
“But are you not concerned that he may treat your daughter roughly? He may make strange demands of her?”
“My daughter is used to getting her own way, Miss Murphy,” she said firmly. “I don’t think she’ll have any problem keeping Leon Roth in order, and if she does, then Mr. Mendelbaum will soon straighten him out. Everyone listens to Mr. Mendelbaum, if they know what’s good for them.”
She stood up again. “I’m so glad you came and I thank you for the information. I owe you a fee, don’t I? Let me find my checkbook.”
She went to a lady’s writing desk, beautifully carved in mahogany, and opened the roll top. Then she scrawled something on a check and handed it to me. “I think we agreed on one hundred, didn’t we?”
“I hardly like to take it if I did you no service,” I said.
“Take it. Of course you should take it. You put in the time and effort, didn’t you? You supplied us with the facts. Now it is up to us to decide whether we should act on those facts. And knowing my daughter and how headstrong she is, I’d say there is little likelihood that she will let Leon Roth out of her clutches again. And I suspect they will be blissfully happy.”
She waved the check back and forth to let the ink dry and then put it firmly into my hands.
I left the house with a bad taste in my mouth. Should I have been more forceful in my condemnation of Leon Roth? Was Lanie Mendelbaum destined for a hard time ahead? Then I told myself that it was none of my business. I had been hired for a job. I had done the job. What they did with the information I supplied was their business. As my friends had told me, I got too emotionally involved with my cases. I should learn to keep all emotion out of my work.