“Of course,” Sarah agreed. “I didn’t mean it that way. It does seem miraculous that Brian can walk, though, doesn’t it? He must be wearing you out.”

“I can manage,” she said defensively, almost desperately.

Sarah had unwittingly touched another nerve, and she sighed in exasperation. “Mrs. Malloy, I have great respect for your son and great affection for your grandson, but surely Mr. Malloy has told you that he and I are merely friends and nothing more.”

Mrs. Malloy looked over at Sarah. “I have eyes, don’t I?” was all she said. Sarah had no idea what she meant by that and decided it would be foolish to ask.

Luckily, the church was on the next corner, and Mrs. Malloy managed to distract Brian while Sarah slipped away. She realized her trip here had been wasted if Malloy was at Police Headquarters. Or he might already be waiting for her at her house. But at least she’d gotten to see Brian and judge the progress he was making for herself.

As for seeing Malloy, she certainly hoped he would have a good idea for how to get Mrs. Donato to confess – an idea that didn’t involve taking her down to Police Headquarters and giving her the third degree. If he could get a confession, maybe there wouldn’t be a trial and all the accompanying scandal. The girls at the mission certainly didn’t need any more trauma in their lives.

When Sarah turned the corner onto Bank Street, she saw a man sitting on her doorstep. For an instant, she thought it was Malloy and her heart leaped with an excitement she felt for nothing else in her life. Then the man stood up, and she realized it wasn’t Malloy at all. She told herself not to be disappointed. A millionaire was waiting for her, after all, and he’d brought her a bouquet of flowers.

Richard Dennis hurried down the street to meet her. “Good morning,” he said when he reached her. “I hope you don’t mind my calling this early and waiting for you. Mrs. Ellsworth assured me it would be fine.”

“I’m sure she did,” Sarah said with a smile. She couldn’t help noticing her neighbor had made herself scarce, too, for once. Probably, she was intimidated because Richard was her son’s employer. “I hope you didn’t have to wait long.”

“Not at all,” he assured her, falling into step with her to return to her house. “I felt I owed you an apology after the way I behaved last night.”

“I told you, I had a wonderful time,” she reminded him.

“Until I ruined it with my memories. I’m afraid I was feeling a little melancholy, in spite of the festivities.”

“That’s only natural. I’m sure being with your old friends reminded you of your wife. Won’t you come in? I can make some coffee, and I have some pie.”

He glanced down at the bouquet he still held. “Oh, and I guess I have some flowers for you. To prove my apology is sincere,” he added, offering them to her.

“The flowers weren’t necessary, but they are appreciated,” Sarah said, accepting the gift. They were red roses, and she knew they must have cost a fortune and taken a monumental effort to procure. Flower shops would be closed on Sunday, and roses weren’t blooming anywhere near the city on the first of November.

Without even thinking, Sarah settled Richard into one of the chairs in her front room, by the front window. She didn’t ask herself why she hadn’t invited him into the kitchen, as she always did with Malloy. Richard, she decided, just wasn’t that type of man.

A short while later, she served the coffee and the remains of Mrs. Ellsworth’s apple pie. They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes.

“I guess I owe you yet another apology, too,” he said at last.

“For what?”

“For involving you in the mission. If I hadn’t asked you to accompany me there, you never would have met the girl who was murdered.”

“I’ve thought about that a lot,” Sarah admitted. “Life would be simpler if we didn’t get involved with other people, wouldn’t it? On the other hand, if the girl hadn’t been wearing my clothes, there’s a good chance no one would even have known who she was. The people at the mission and” – Sarah had almost said her family – “and those who loved her would never have known what became of her, either.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “On the other hand, if she’d just disappeared, they could have imagined her alive and happy someplace else.”

“That would be difficult,” she said. “Girls like Emilia don’t usually have happy lives, particularly if they just disappear into the streets.”

“Or even if they find a home at the mission, apparently,” he reminded her.

He frowned. “What did the mother say when she confessed? Did she explain why she did it?”

Suddenly, the sweet pie tasted like sawdust in her mouth. “She hasn’t confessed yet,” Sarah admitted. “She hasn’t even been arrested.”

“Then you don’t know for sure she did it,” he challenged.

“Well,” Sarah hedged, “all the evidence points to her.”

“What evidence?”

This was the most animated she’d ever seen him. How odd that he would suddenly be so concerned about this. “The way she was killed, for one thing. It’s obvious a woman killed her.” It did sound flimsy when she said it out loud like that.

“How was she killed?”

“With a hat pin.”

Richard stared at her incredulously. “A hat pin?”

“There, you see,” Sarah said with a small smile of triumph. “Men simply don’t consider a hat pin a weapon. But think about it. A hat pin is as long and sturdy as a knife blade and sharp on the end. It could do as much damage as a stiletto.”

“What do you know about stilettos, Sarah,” he chided with amusement.

“Probably more than you,” she chided right back. “And we found the hat pin the murdered girl was wearing. It had blood on it.”

“Where was she stabbed with this deadly hat pin?” he asked, still not convinced.

Sarah explained, showing him on her own head how the pin went in.

Plainly, he was horrified at the mere thought. “How could that kill a person?” he asked in amazement.

“By damaging the brain somehow. She looked as if she’d suffocated, so it must have affected her breathing.”

He was going to ask a question, but just then Sarah saw a familiar figure pass by outside on the way to her front porch. “Malloy is here,” she announced, jumping up to open the door for him.

Malloy wasn’t smiling. “Didn’t I tell you not to leave me any more messages?” he said before she could even open her mouth to greet him. “Sometimes I think you don’t have the sense God gave a – ” He stopped when he saw Richard, who had followed Sarah to the door, and his face got even redder than his anger justified.

“You know Mr. Dennis, don’t you, Malloy?” she asked sweetly.

Richard looked outraged, and he probably was. A gentleman would never tell a lady she didn’t have good sense, even if she didn’t.

The two men glared at each other for a long moment. Neither offered to shake hands and neither spoke a word of greeting.

“I’m so glad you came, Malloy,” Sarah said, pretending not to notice anything amiss. “Mrs. Wells and I were finally able to figure out who killed Emilia.”

“It was her mother,” Richard said with a satisfied smirk. Plainly, he wanted Malloy to know Sarah had confided in him first.

To his credit, Malloy didn’t bat an eye. Instead, he drew a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “If you want me to come back at a more convenient time,” he said to Sarah, with just a hint of sarcasm.

Sarah pretended not to hear the sarcasm. “I would hate to inconvenience you,” she said with mock sincerity. “I know Richard will excuse us,” she added with a smile. “I’m sorry to cut our visit short, but I’m sure you understand how important it is to see the killer arrested as soon as possible.”

Richard’s face turned so red, he looked as if he might explode. He hated the thought of leaving her alone with Malloy, but good breeding demanded that he obey her wishes. He needed a moment to regain control, and then he said, “I will forgive you if agree to dine with me tomorrow evening.”