Part 2 (2/2)

Who would have thought that shead end up finding true love in that stuffy, flat, sn.o.bby, high-society nonsense world that her parents had always pushed her toward?

aWere you waiting long?a aYears and years,a Clara replied, laying a hand across her forehead. aI was simply dying in the heat.a aOh, that would have been tragic. I would have had to eat alone.a She pushed him away. aYouare a beast.a Marcus stood and offered Clara his hand. aYou could have gone ahead,a he said. aI wouldave just met you at the restaurant.a aYou know you would have gotten lost without me.a He grimaced at the street sign. aYou may be right. Why canat they just use numbered streets here like they do in Manhattan?a aTheyare trying to force you to use your head every once in a while.a He huffed. aNever. There will be more than enough for my head to deal with in the fall.a aMarcus, your parents practically built half of Columbia. You probably wonat have to try too hard.a They walked arm in arm down Hicks Street and toward the Franklin Arms Hotel. A breeze stirred the treetops, but down here along the slate sidewalks the heat was stifling.

aI hope you didnat have too much trouble getting here,a Clara said. aA little trouble, of coursea”you need to work for love or itas too easy. But not too much work, or itas like a work.a He sighed. aItas just so far, Clara. Why do you have to live all the way in Brooklyn? Itas like another country. People even dress differently here. Look at that man in that horrible coat.a Clara rolled her eyes. aThatas a woman in a maternity dress.a aYou see what I mean?a aYou know why I live out here.a aBut I donat know why you wonat let me help you out. It would be a gift to me more than anything, to have you closer. No more decade-long subway rides.a She smiled but murmured, aI canat, Marcus.a Marcus gave her hand a squeeze. aSorry to pester you about it. I just miss you.a The only way to reach the restaurant was through the hotel lobby. It was a grand old place, and bright with the golden light from a dozen wall sconces.

The restaurant was darker and more run-down, but the room felt plush anyway. The red wallpaper was richly textured, and the long mahogany bar was beautifully polished, and even at lunchtime, intimate candles lit each table. A man played a slow tune on a glossy-white baby grand in the corner. Clara adored this placea”it reminded her of the speakeasy Marcus had taken her to in Chicago on their first date.

After the waitress took their orders, Marcus looked around. aWe should come here at night sometime. The bandas supposed to be the catas meow.a Clara shrugged. aMaybe.a She would have loved to go out with him in Manhattana”it wasnat as if her parents would ever find outa”but a promise was a promise, and she was trying to be good. aIam sorry I havenat been the most exciting girlfriend.a Marcus laid his hand over hers. aI canat think of anything more exciting than being here with you.a Lunch was lovely, but Marcus was in an odd mood. He seemed eager to finish as fast as possible. When Clara remarked on how quickly he was shoveling down his salmon, he grinned.

aI just want to get out of here and take a walk across the bridge. Itas such a beautiful day.a Clara hiked an eyebrow. Sweet as Marcus was, he rarely gave a d.a.m.n whether it was aa beautiful day.a The waitress returned and asked, aDessert?a As Clara said, aYes!a Marcus said, aNo, thank you, just the check.a She frowned as the waitress walked away. aA cake-eater like you rejecting a slice of cake? I never wouldave believed it.a Marcus paid the check promptly, and then he grabbed Claraas hand and pulled her back outside.

Marcus had been telling the truth: The day was beautiful, the sky bright and blue, and a nice breeze off the water chased away the heat. Claraas Mary Janes clacked on the wooden planks as they made their way across the bridge, her hand in the crook of Marcusas arm.

aYou wonat get a better view of Manhattan anywhere,a he said as they strolled underneath the first arch.

The farther they walked, the more clearly Clara could see the aquamarine Statue of Liberty raising her torch to the sky. Wind dimpled the water and twined the smoke rising from pa.s.sing steamboats.

When they came to the second arch, Marcus eyeballed the cart of a nearby vendor, one of the many who camped out on the Brooklyn Bridge every afternoon. aOn second thought,a he said, aI think dessert is a good idea.a aIad kill for an ice cream,a Clara said.

aNo need for violence, Miss Knowles. If itas ice cream you want, then it is ice cream you shall have.a He walked over to the vendor with two fingers raised. aI scream fora”Oh, never mind. Two, please.a Clara turned away and leaned her elbows on the railing. She had a swell view of the Manhattan skylinea”the tall white Woolworth Building, the spires of Park Row. Shead almost forgotten how idyllic the city could look from a distance, the way it did to newcomers.

Marcus walked over with a cup of lemonade. aHe was out of ice cream.a At times like these, Clara remembered that she really didnat know Marcus all that well. Shead only been in New York for three weeks, and she and Marcus had spent the previous months with a few hundred miles between them. Theyad had a small amount of precious time together when Clara had stayed with Gloria in Chicago, but for much of that time Clara had believed that Marcusas interest in her was just a cruel joke he had cooked up with Gloria and Lorraine.

And it had been, at first.

But things had changed. She and Marcus had developed real feelings for each other. Clara had tried to tell him about her wild flapper life in New York and her affair with Harris Brown, but that desperate wench Lorraine had got there first: Shead drunkenly announced to the world the one secret Clara most wanted to keep hidden. Not only had Clara had an affair with an engaged mana”shead become pregnant. And then had lost the baby.

Clara had been sure Marcus would leave her after that, but he hadnat wavered.

But what would happen when he started cla.s.ses at Columbia in the fall?

aLetas sit for a second.a Marcus led her over to a metal bench and sat next to her, taking hold of her hand. aSo, listen. I have a surprise for you.a Suddenly his strange behavior made sense. aOh? I love surprises.a aRight.a He took a deep breath. aYou remember how my father went to Columbia and my mother went to Barnard? Well, dear old Motheras been writing letters to her friends on the admissions board. And my father handed out some bribesa”er, donations.a aWhatever for?a Clara asked. aI mean, you were already accepted.a aItas not for me, Clara. After all that and a little sweet-talking, they were able to pull some strings and get you into Barnard!a He pulled her into a tight hug and laughed. aNow you can go to school across the street from me! Your parents will be thrilled, youall have a good reason to move uptown, and life will be just peachy! Isnat it wonderful?a Clara pulled away. aThey got me into Barnard? They can just a do that?a aMy dadas got low friends in high places.a Marcus met her eyes, his smile dimming a little. aYou arenat excited. That is not the face of a thrilled Clara Knowles.a She let out a forced-sounding laugh. aOf course I am! Itas justa”Wow, it caught me off guard. Barnard a wow.a aYou donat need to be nervous, Clara. Youare the smartest girl I know. Look at how easily you finished up your course work before you moved here. Youare certainly smarter than the Unmentionable, and she got in.a Clara paled. Shead forgotten that Lorraine was going to Barnard as well.

aSorry to remind you. Is that whatas wrong?a Lorraineas being at Barnard didnat help matters, but Clara would be able to avoid her easily enough. It was more that enrolling would force her to face her old uptown haunts and even older friends before she was sure she was ready.

And as awful as Lorraine was, at least she had gotten into Barnard on her own merit. aGetting me into Barnard a itas just a lot. I didnat even want you to get me an apartment, and you got me a whole college.a aI thought an apartment would be a little cramped,a he said. aMy parents wanted to do this for you, Clara. Actually, thatas the other thing: My fatheras in town and wants to meet us for dessert at Le Royale Bakery. Heas so eager to meet you.a Suddenly Marcusas refusal of dessert at the Franklin Arms and his random desire to enjoy the outdoors made sense. As he pulled Clara into a kiss, she tried to feel as happy as he obviously felt. Barnard. Her parents would be so proud. They might even start sending her more than nickels and dimes.

Clara wasnat sure she could accept Marcusas offer, but she did need to find the courage to face Manhattana”even Greenwich Village. Marcus had been kind enough to leave her past in the past.

It was time she did herself the same favor.

VERA.

Vera yawned and watched the beams of morning sunlight stream in through the giant half-moon windows of Grand Central Station.

She had never been to New York beforea”never been anywhere outside of Chicago. If this had been a normal trip, she would have been marveling at the beautiful buildingas grand staircases and the starry mural on the ceiling, gold constellations connecting to create Pegasus and other signs of the zodiac against a blue-green sky.

But all she could think about was the killer coming after Jerome.

If the woman found out the address of his post office box in New York City, then eventually she would just come and wait for Jerome or Gloria to turn up. But she probably had her hands full with Carlito in Chicago, and that might buy Vera just enough time to find her brother first and warn him.

Vera smiled as Evan appeared with two cups of hot coffee. She drank down a big gulp. aNow I feel human again.a She looked at the map of Manhattan hanging on the wall. aHis post office box is close to Harlem a so I guess we should walk to Times Square and take the train uptown. Not that I know a d.a.m.ned thing about the subway.a Evan reached over and squeezed her hand. aWeall find him, donat you worry. Here, I got you something.a He handed her a small paper bag head been holding, which contained a single glazed doughnut. aA little something sweet for somebody sweet.a Vera started to laugh. aExcuse me?a Evanas cheeks darkened. aSorry. That was stupid.a Vera was about to laugh again but stopped herself. Was Evan flirting with her? It didnat seem likelya”he was her brotheras friend and former bandmate first. But did former bandmates hop overnight trains to cities halfway across the country?

No.

Could Evan a like her? She looked at him again, his high cheekbones, his dark and stormy eyes. Evan was gorgeous, and he played the trumpet like a dream.

But Vera wasnat here to fall in love. She was here to find Jerome.

That didnat mean she couldnat enjoy a doughnut, though.

aThanks a lot,a she said quietly.

Evan chuckled. aYeah, Iave given you a sandwich and a doughnut. Maybe Iall even throw in some fruit and vegetables sometime, though I donat want to spoil you.a After theyad checked the map once more, Evan and Vera walked outside into the bright sunlight. Vera marveled at the buildings they pa.s.sed. They loomed higher than any shead seen back in Chicago. Despite the early hour, men and women filled the sidewalks. The men mostly wore suits and straw hats, while the women dressed in smart-looking day dresses with skirts that came down only a few inches past their knees.

Cars of every make and model crowded the streets, as well as a few horse-drawn wagons. Hulking yellow-and-black Checker cabs tried in vain to weave through the stalled traffic. A wonderful smell of brown sugar pervaded the aira”Vera realized that the source was a cart selling sweet, hot peanuts, cashews, and almonds.

aSo you want to get off at a Hundred and Third Street,a Evan said once they were on the subway and the train clicked into the Eighty-Sixth Street station.

aBut you wonat?a Vera asked, frowning. Theyad just gotten here. She wasnat sure she was ready to face this strange city alone yet.

aNaw, Iam gonna stay on until a Hundred Forty-Fifth. Iam gonna start lookina for a gig right away. A friend works up there at the Hooch Pooch.a aMeet back at the Hundred and Third Street station around four?a Vera asked.

aThat should be just enough time a for a few clubs to kick me right back out the door.a He let out a nervous laugh.

Vera nudged his shoulder with hers. aDonat be ridiculous. I bet you find something before I even make it to the post office.a Vera emerged from the station and straightened her cloche hat.

The subway stop was only a few blocks from the post office, and it was a pleasant walk. This area was a bit like her neighborhood in Chicago. She pa.s.sed tiny markets selling everything from newspapers to cigarettes and hot coffee. There were more white people than black. Vera decided to keep her head down so as not to raise suspicion.

The post office was like every other post office shead seen, if a little dingy. A few people with packages in their arms stood in line in front of a bank of small wooden-framed windows. Others strolled in, went to the wall lined with the little bra.s.s doors of post office boxes, and opened them with tiny keys.

Vera selected a sheet of stationery and an envelope from a display, paid for them, and went to a table to dash off a short note to Jerome.

Dear Jerome, There is too much to say and this note has to be short, so Iall get to the point: Someone killed Bastian Grey and is after you. The killer may have got this address from him, so youad best stop using it. I am in the city, staying at Then she realized she didnat know where to tell him to look for her; she and Evan hadnat found accommodations yet. She scratched out the line and began again.

Iam staying in the city, and I will go wait under the clock in Grand Central from noon to two every Sat.u.r.day until you show up.

Your loving and worried sister, Vera This was not the best plan for finding Jerome and Gloria. But it was the only lead Vera had.

She folded the note up and tucked it into the envelope, casually watching the customers in the post office. Who knew how often Jerome and Gloria checked their mail? Would they come together? Or would Gloria waltz in like the redheaded woman whoad just entered, glanced around nervously, and gone over to one of those tiny mailboxesa”

Vera realized she wasnat looking at a Gloria look-alike: it was Gloria. She was a lot thinner and was wearing a cheap blue dress that old high-society Gloria wouldnat have touched with a ten-foot swizzle stick, but it was definitely her.

Vera was just about to call out Gloriaas name when she saw that Gloria had been followed.

A woman in a dark gray dress and a large hat had entered the post office right on Gloriaas heels and was standing at the bulletin board as though interested in the WANTED posters. But her head was clearly tilted in Gloriaas direction. The woman wore large sungla.s.ses and kept one hand hidden in her handbag.

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