“He gives her no clothing allowance, Daniel. He himself said he didn’t know how she found the money to run away. But there’s something more…” Again I leaned closer. “I saw traces of blood on the bedroom washbasin and what looked like spots of blood on the carpet.”
Now he really was paying attention. “Blood? Are you sure?”
“The light isn’t the best in that room, but it certainly looked like blood,” I said.
An icy blast swept down Patchin Place, sending dead leaves swirling again. Daniel frowned. “If he killed her, what do you think he has done with the body?”
‘That’s what your men will have to find out,” I said.
We had reached the Emorys’ front door. “All right.” He took a deep breath. “Let’s go and take a look, shall we?”
He rapped on the door and Mr. Emory opened it. “Oh, it’s Officer Sullivan. How good of you to come.”
“It’s Captain Sullivan,” Daniel corrected. “My wife tells me your own wife is missing.”
“I don’t know what to think,” Mr. Emory said, ushering us into his front hallway. “I’ve been beside myself with worry. She was supposed to visit friends on Long Island yesterday, you see. When she didn’t return by nightfall, naturally I assumed they had persuaded her to stay. You’ll remember we did have an unpleasant bout of rain yesterday evening. But when she hadn’t returned and there was no word from her today, I sent our friends a telegram and they replied that she had never arrived at their house.”
“Worrying indeed,” Daniel said. “Is your wife prone to taking off on a whim?”
“Absolutely not. She is required to obtain my permission before she leaves the house, and until now, she has given me no cause for alarm.”
“Does she perhaps have other friends she might have decided to visit instead?” Daniel asked. “Or relatives nearby?”
“She is not from here,” Mr. Emory replied. “She came from New Orleans and knows nobody in the city apart from members of our church, to whom I introduced her.”
“Then is it possible she has returned to her former home?”
“I hardly think so,” Mr. Emory said. “As I explained to your wife, her former home is no more. Her stepmother has remarried, her stepsisters are now also married and living in their own homes. And from what my wife told me, she had no great affection for any of them.”
“I see.” Daniel sucked through his teeth. “So what exactly would you like me to do, Mr. Emory?”
“Find my wife and bring her back.” He snapped out the words. Then he paused and a spasm of pain crossed his face. “Or if something untoward has happened to her, I need to know.”
“Untoward?” Daniel asked.
“This is a city of crime and danger, Captain Sullivan. It’s just possible that she fell among evildoers on her way to Long Island. She’s an innocent, unworldly little thing, and easily led astray.”
“We are talking about a journey in broad daylight on public transportation, Mr. Emory,” Daniel said. “A train ride to Long Island?”
“Who knows where evil lurks,” Mr. Emory said. “I want your men to find her for me.”
“That’s quite a tall order, Mr. Emory,” Daniel said. “Anyone who wanted to stay hidden in this city could do so easily, and if she has fled beyond the city…well, America is a big place. But I will try. All I can do is the obvious—post her picture at our police precincts, check the bodies of young women brought to the morgue.”
Mr. Emory gave a sort of hiccupping cry. “I need to know, Captain Sullivan. However painful the news, I need to know.”
I touched Daniel’s arm. “Perhaps you should also take a look upstairs in her room and see if you can glean anything from the clothes she took or didn’t take.”
“Very well.” Daniel’s voice displayed no emotion. “If you permit, Mr. Emory?”
“By all means. Anything that will help.”
We trudged back up the stairs. The house felt cold and I shivered. I pictured the lively Mrs. Emory sitting at her vanity, brushing her hair, and her husband coming up behind her with a knife in his hand or a blunt instrument and…. I pushed the thought away. I let Daniel go ahead of me into the room. He moved around, apparently showing only perfunctory interest.
“A valise, Mr. Emory,” he said, turning back to the man who remained in the doorway. Have you checked whether a valise or traveling bag is missing?”
“No, I…” the man began, then turned. “Our traveling bags are on top of the wardrobe in the spare bedroom. Let me see…”