City of Darkness and Light(71)

“We thought we should get a cab back to our place immediately,” Gus said, “but Miss Cassatt said we should stay put until we were sure we were safe. We just prayed that the housekeeper had been so shocked that she hadn’t had time to recognize Sid. But then we learned from asking in the neighborhood that a young Jewish man was seen running away from the house. Obviously they thought Sid was a young man, on account of the trousers and her short hair.”

“I see,” I said. “So what happens now?”

“I suppose we remain hidden until they catch the real killer, or we try to make it to the coast and take the next steamer bound for America.” Sid sank her face into her hands. “We hate to compromise Miss Cassatt in this way. She insisted we stay here, even though she hardly knows us, saying that we women needed to stick together. She’s been so wonderful to us. Such a pillar of strength, but we’d certainly not want her to be accused of harboring a fugitive from the law.”

“But you can’t go back to your place in Montmartre,” I said. “Madame Hetreau would sell her own grandmother for tuppence.”

This made them laugh. “Yes, she is rather frightful, isn’t she? And so nosy,” Gus said. “You see now why we had to contact you through the postcards. We were sure the police had been to our house and the housekeeper had identified Sid. Mary volunteered to go herself but we couldn’t let her, in case she was followed back here. In fact we couldn’t give any hint of where we were, sure that the dreadful Hetreau would relay any scrap of information to the police, in the hope of getting a reward.”

“She almost didn’t want to let me use your apartment when you were not there,” I said. “And now she takes great glee in asking me if I’ve found you every time I come back.”

“You didn’t leave Liam with her, did you?” Gus asked.

“Of course not. He’s with the baker’s wife, across the street. She’s an absolute dear, although she’s been stuffing him too full of food.”

The attempt to brighten up the atmosphere failed like a slowly deflating balloon. “So you’ll have to stay put for now, won’t you?” I asked.

Sid sighed. “It all seems so hopeless, Molly. I’m so glad you are here. You’re a real detective. You’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t really see what I can do to help in a strange city,” I said hesitantly. “It seems to me that your only hope is to find the real killer.”

“Exactly what I said,” Gus exclaimed with enthusiasm.

“But wait a minute,” I said. “When I was at the house they were dusting everything for fingerprints. Surely that will exonerate you, Sid.”

She shook her head. “No, it won’t. When he was trying to remove the knife and I tried to stop him I know I must have touched it as well as his hand. I had blood on my hands afterward. My fingerprints will be on that knife.”

“Oh, dear. That’s not good,” I said. “Now the fact that strikes me is that he wasn’t dead when you arrived and the front door was open. That indicates to me that he had just been stabbed before you got there and that maybe the killer slipped out as you went into the studio.”

“You mean he was in the house at the same time?” Sid shuddered. “How awful. I might have been his next victim.”

“He probably only had one knife,” I said. “I suspect he did what he came to do and then all he wanted was to get away. You are absolutely sure that there was nobody else in the room? Was there anywhere one could hide?”

Sid frowned. “There was a red velvet curtain hanging as a backdrop for the painting he was working on. I suppose someone could have hidden behind that,” she shuddered.

“Now think, Sid. Sometimes we take in more details than we realize. Was there anything about that room that struck you as different, odd, unusual? No bulge behind the drapes? No sixth sense that somebody else was breathing?”

Sid closed her eyes, then shook her head. “It all happened so fast, Molly. I came in, went straight up to him, and saw he was dying. I didn’t have time to look at my surroundings. When I did, afterward, it was only to look for an escape route. I saw the open window and made for it.”

“Never mind,” I said. “Perhaps by now the police have identified a fingerprint on that knife that matches a known criminal. And even if they have your fingerprints, they wouldn’t know how to start looking for you, especially if they think you are a young man.”

Sid clutched at my hand. “Molly, you are so calm and wonderful and efficient,” she said. “I know you’ll be able to help me prove my innocence.”