Tell Me Pretty Maiden Page 30

  “A terrible one,” I said, and spilled out the whole story. “We have to do something,” I concluded. “They wouldn’t listen to me. It will take an official visit from the police before we can get her out of there.”

  “Very well.” She nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Captain Paxton was the senior officer in the raid on the Sicilians, so he would have to be the one to take this up.”

  She went upstairs to get dressed and I left her feeling more hopeful. It was now in the hands of the authorities. They would make that hatchet-faced nurse admit them and release Jessie back to me. I realized I might be taking on a long-term problem, that supporting another person would not be easy, but I’m always of the Mr. Micawber school of thought that “something will turn up.” So I walked home with a spring to my step, already planning how I might make Jessie’s bedroom more cheerful, or perhaps give her mine so that she got the morning sun.

  I waited impatiently all day. There was almost no food in the house, but I dared not leave to go shopping, in case I missed Mrs. Goodwin. Evening came and still no Mrs. Goodwin. Still no Daniel, either. I paced the house like a caged animal, up and down the narrow hallway, waiting for that knock on the front door. By eight o’clock I realized she wasn’t going to come.

  I told myself to calm down and stop fussing. Obviously Captain Paxton had more on his mind than the fate of one girl. I couldn’t expect him to drop everything, to risk jeopardizing his case against the Sicilian gangsters just for me. That night I dreamed about Ward’s Island, but it wasn’t Jessie who was locked up there, it was me. It was a horrible nightmare with half-human creatures dancing around me, screaming and moaning and laughing. They prodded me with sticks and one of them said, “This one’s sane,” and another shouted, “Not for long!” at which they all cackled with laughter and a voice in the background whispered, “You’ll never get out, you know.”

  I woke screaming, then lay in the darkness with my heart pounding. I had to do something today. I couldn’t wait any longer. As soon as it was light I made my way to police headquarters. As I walked up Mulberry Street I saw her walking ahead of me, in conversation with a male police officer. I didn’t stop to think that perhaps I shouldn’t approach her when she was on duty. I’m afraid I yelled out her name and broke into a run. She turned in surprise and waited for me.

  “Molly, my dear, I can’t talk now,” she said. “We’re on our way to interview a girl in a brothel. I get off duty at ten and I’ll come straight to your house.”

  So I had to wait yet again. At least she’ll have good news when she comes, I kept telling myself. At last there was the knock on the door and I ushered her inside.

  “Would you like a cup of tea?” I asked. “Come and sit down.”

  “I won’t stay.” She remained standing just inside the door. “I’m afraid I don’t have very encouraging news for you, my dear. I told your story to Captain Paxton and he’s not prepared to intervene.”

  “What?” I shouted. “He knows those gangsters have shoved an innocent girl into an insane asylum and he’s not going to do anything?”

  She put her hand on my shoulder. “Molly, he considered it carefully, I assure you.”

  “Oh, I bet he did!”

  “But in the end his opinion was that the girl was currently out of her mind and thus belonged in an insane asylum, even though she was admitted there by dubious means.”

  “Did you tell him I’d be prepared to take care of her?” I demanded.

  “Molly, you have no claim on her. You’re not a family member. You’ll have to let matters be for now. I’m sure, if she recovers her senses they’ll release her.”

  “No, they won’t.” I could feel tears stinging in my eyes.

  “I don’t know why you’re taking this particular case so personally,” she said. “You’re a detective. You know the world is full of sadness and injustice and you have to remain detached from your work or go mad yourself.”

  “But she’s not my work. I found her,” I said. “I believe I was meant to find her. Meant to save her. And save her I will, one way or another.”

  After she had gone I sat at my kitchen table, staring out at the December grayness. The world outside matched my mood—swirling fog, bare branches from which moisture dripped. How could Daniel have deserted me when I needed him? If he’d been in charge of the case, and not that stupid Captain Paxton, then all would be well. At least he’d have been able to comfort and reassure me. I realized that sometimes I fought too hard to be a strong and independent woman. Maybe I had shut him out one time too often and he no longer thought that I needed or wanted him close to me. I was almost ready to rush up to Westchester, find him, and make him come back to New York with me. But my pride wouldn’t let me do it.

  I tried to tell myself that Jessie would be all right. This was, after all, the Twentieth Century. Great strides were being made in treating the insane. There were other doctors like my friend Dr. Birnbaum who now specialized in the sick mind. Maybe she was in the right place. Maybe they’d cure her.

  Then I decided I’d write a letter to the head of the asylum, asking to be notified as soon as he saw any improvement in her, letting him know that I was willing to take care of her myself. He’d be a reasonable man. I’d have her out in no time at all.

  I wrote the letter, weighing every word I put down. At last I was satisfied and had completed a whole page with no blots, which in itself was a miracle for me. I found a stamp and set out to post it. But even as I dropped it into the mailbox, I found that I couldn’t keep the old worries at bay. What about that dream I had had last night? Was it a warning that the asylum was a terrible place? After all, Nelly Bly had gained notoriety by having herself committed and thus exposing the horrors of such places.

  I stopped in midstep on the sidewalk. I’d go and see Elizabeth and find out the truth. So I turned away from Patchin Place and made for the Fifth Avenue Hotel. Hot chestnut men and Christmas carolers reminded me of the approaching season. It certainly didn’t feel like a time of goodwill to all men!

  Elizabeth had obviously just risen and was still in her robe having breakfast in her suite, but she looked pleased to see me.

  “Molly. You have news about your silent girl?”

  “News, but not good. It seems she has been admitted to the insane asylum on Ward’s Island.”

  “Mercy me. That’s not good news, as you say. Is there nothing you can do about it?”

  “I’ve tried everything I can,” I said. “I’ve just written to the doctor in charge. Everyone has told me that the girl belongs in there. So I came to you. I have to know—is it such a terrible place, do you think? Will she be treated and cured?”

  I saw the answer from her face before she spoke. “Molly, those places are one step away from hell,” she said. “In spite of the article I wrote, and the public outcry at the conditions, I’ve come to believe that little has been done to improve things. We’ve no way of improving them, you see. We just don’t know how to treat the insane. Most of the time we just don’t bother.”

  “Then I want you to help me,” I said. “You managed to have yourself admitted to a similar institution once. I want your help in getting me admitted there.”

  She shook her head firmly. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Of course I do. But it’s the only way. Once I’m in there, I’m sure I can find Jessie and manage to convince a kind doctor or nurse that a terrible injustice has been done.”

  “You may not find a kind doctor or nurse. Some of the people who work there are the worst sort of bullies—those who delight in inflicting suffering on those with no voice and no power.”

  “At least let me try it,” I said. “What have I got to lose? If a family member can commit a person, then surely you can claim to be my relative. You can have me admitted and then, a couple of days later, reveal who you are and why you admitted me. People will listen to you. I’ll be whisked out again and I can bring Jessie with me.”

  “
Jessie?”

  “That is the girl’s real name. Jessie Edwards. She was a dancer in Connecticut.”

  “Amazing. So not foreign after all?”

  “No. It must be as Dr. Birnbaum suggested—that a great and horrible event robbed her of her senses and her power of speech.”

  Elizabeth shook her head again. “Then what would happen to her if she was rescued from that place? The insane are not always easy to care for, you know.”

  “I can help her, Elizabeth. My doctor friend is a renowned alienist and I have a devoted woman to be her nurse. The poor girl has suffered enough. I’ve got to do all I can.”

  “Then why not let your doctor friend help her?”

  “Unfortunately, he’s been called away, and I’ve no idea where or for how long. Don’t you see that a few days in a place like Ward’s Island might push somebody into madness forever?”

  “Yes, I do see that,” she said.

  “So won’t you help me? You can summon the wagon to have me taken away. Tell them I’m having delusions or I’m violent or even that I’m like Jessie and I’ve lost my memory and can’t speak.”

  “Violent and delusional would be better,” Catherine said. “If you’d just lost your memory, any loving family member would take care of you until you regained it. I’d have to show that it was beyond my power to care for you and that you were a danger to yourself and others.”

  “But not too dangerous, or I might be locked away from other inmates.”

  “Very well,” she said after a long pause. “If you really want to go through with this, then I’ll come with you to your home and contact the asylum from there. It will look less suspicious than from a hotel. And you’ll need to pack a bag—only pack clothes you don’t care about losing, as they’ll probably be stolen from you if they are too fine.”

  We took a cab back to Patchin Place. I went upstairs and threw my oldest night attire and undergarments into the bag. I wasn’t going to risk taking a change of dress. I didn’t own enough clothes to willingly sacrifice one outfit. I also packed my hairbrush and tooth powder, although whether I’d be allowed to use either was debatable. I unpinned my hair and made it stand out wildly, giving me a definitely mad appearance.

  Then Elizabeth went to find a public telephone and I rehearsed my role. We had decided that I had become delusional. I was convinced that I was a foreign princess, being held captive by my sister Elizabeth, and that I kept trying to escape. That way I would not be deemed a danger to other inmates, but would be too much for my poor sister, given her own current health problems (we hadn’t quite decided on these, but we’d just hint).

  Elizabeth returned, looking grave. “They will be here before the end of the day,” she said. “And they will be bringing papers for me to sign, committing you to the care of the state.”

  “I see.” I swallowed hard. It suddenly sounded very real and very final. “And we’ll give it two days, shall we?” I added. “That should give me enough time to locate Jessie and make sure that she’s all right. And who knows, I might even have a chance to speak to a person who would listen to the truth.”

  “Who knows,” Elizabeth said.

  I thought of going over to Sid and Gus to say goodbye, but I had a suspicion that they wouldn’t let me go through with this. I wasn’t at all sure that I should go through with it myself. The sensible side of me kept saying that Doctor Birnbaum would be back in a few days and that he’d be able to rescue Jessie, but I couldn’t shake off this terrible feeling of dread and need for haste. What if he had gone back to Europe and stayed there for months? Something inside me whispered that if I didn’t get there soon, it would be too late. I wasn’t sure why those ruthless men had committed Jessie to the institution—maybe they had been tipped off about the police raid and wanted her safely stashed away. But maybe they could equally have bribed a guard to bring about her demise in a way that didn’t look suspicious.

  Anyway, the wagon had been summoned. There was no going back now. And I had Nelly Bly working with me. She had done braver and more risky things than this and had survived. She’d make sure I stayed safe.

  At four o’clock there was a hammering on the front door. I was just finishing a slice of bread and jam and a cup of tea. I leaped up, my heart hammering as loudly as those knocks. So this was it. Doom was knocking. I heard Elizabeth go to the door and heard her say, “She’s in here. She’s quiet right now, and I think she’ll go with you if you agree with what she asks you.”

  Two men came into the kitchen. I looked up at them and recognized one of them from the time I stole Jessie. But I managed to keep my face in a worried stare and went on eating bread and jam as they handed Elizabeth papers to be signed.

  “Molly dear,” Elizabeth said, as she handed the papers back to them, “these nice men have come to take you on a little trip.”

  “I’m not Molly. I keep telling you,” I said. “I am Princess Alexandra.” I turned to the men. “They took me from my castle in England, you know,” I said. “Have you come to take me home and restore me to my royal seat?”

  “Yes, that’s right.” One of the men dug the other in the ribs.

  “Say Your Royal Highness when you address me,” I said.

  Another dig in the ribs. “Oh, of course, your royal highness.” He smirked. “Now, come along nice and easy. We’ve got to make our way to the boat that will take you back to your palace.”

  “Make sure she doesn’t escape during the trip,” Elizabeth whispered to them. “She’s become an expert at running away.”

  “Then we’d better put on the jacket, Fred,” one man said to the other.

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Elizabeth said quickly. “If one of you sits beside her and you keep the doors shut.”

  “Best to be safe,” the first man said. “Fred here lost a patient a couple of weeks ago and he got in one hell of a row about it.” He produced a white canvas jacket and came toward me. I whimpered in alarm and backed away.

  “It’s your royal robes, your highness,” he said, and slipped my arms into it, lacing it up down the back. Then, to my horror, I found that there was no opening for my hands. The laces were pulled tight and suddenly my arms were wrapped around myself in a tight hug. I shot Elizabeth a frightened glance.

  “You’ll be all right, Molly dear,” she said. “These men will take good care of you.” But I could see that she looked worried, too.

  “Let me give you a kiss,” she said. As her face came close to mine she whispered, “It will only be for two days, and I’ll try and check on you all the time.”

  The men put big hands on each of my shoulders and marched me out of my door and down the alley. Then they literally bundled me into the back of a wagon. I heard the doors close with grim finality, shutting out all light, as I sat on the hard bench. I was almost hurled to the floor as the wagon took off and had no way of steadying myself. I pressed myself into a corner and tried to stay upright. It wasn’t easy and when I slipped down to my knees, I stayed there on the floor, rather than risk another fall.

  After what seemed to be an eternity the wagon came to a halt. I heard the sound of the door opening. “Come on, get out,” one of the men shouted, no longer gentle and kind. He grabbed at my arm and yanked me down to the ground, where I fell to my knees again. This time he grabbed my hair and made me stand up.

  “You’re hurting me,” I protested.

  “You’d better get used to it, sweetheart,” he said. “Now march. The boat’s at the end of the dock.”

  This was no friendly little rowboat but bigger and enclosed. They half-carried, half-pushed me onto the deck and inside a nasty little cabin. Then they shut the doors again, leaving me in complete darkness as the boat chugged across the narrow stretch of water. I almost fell over as we bumped against another jetty. Then the door opened and this time there were warders in uniform, looking remarkably like prison guards.

  “Come along then. Get moving,” one of them said. They grabbed me and marche
d me between them from the dock to that big front door. It opened. I was taken inside, and the door clanged shut behind me. I was an inmate in an insane asylum, whether I wanted it or not.

  FORTY-ONE

  Without having time to catch my breath, I was hustled down a long tiled hallway and another heavy iron door was opened with a key. I was shoved through into a holding area. It was dank and cold and the only small window had bars on it. There was a bench along one wall but I paced rather than sat. Time went by. Outside the light was fading. I began to worry that I’d be held in a solitary cell like this and never have a chance to talk to Jessie.

  Then I heard the tramp of approaching feet and then a hatchet-faced woman in a nurse’s uniform and another man who looked like a prison guard came in.

  “Name of Murphy,” the nurse said, looking up from a clipboard. “Committed by sister. Delusional and tries to run away.”

  I decided I had better keep playing my part.

  “This isn’t my royal palace,” I said in a haughty voice. “Guards, I command you to take me to my palace immediately.”

  The man glanced at the nurse and chuckled. “Right away, your majesty. You’ll find a couple of Napoleons and Queen Victoria waiting for you, if I’m not mistaken.”

  The nurse, however, did not smile. “Did she bring a bag?”

  “Yeah. They have it.”

  “I need my bag,” I said. “It has my crown in it. Make sure it is brought to me. And please remove this ridiculous garment. It is most uncomfortable.”

  “The garment stays on until you’ve been evaluated,” the nurse said. “Is Dr. Arnold still in the building?”

  “No, he’s gone,” the man said.

  “Then take her to Female Four.”

  “You should probably take the jacket off her if she’s going in there,” the man said. “She’ll need her hands to defend herself.”

  “The inmates are not violent in Female Four,” the nurse said.

  “She’ll still need her hands free,” the man said flatly.