I glanced up as the light in the upstairs room was extinguished. The curtains remained drawn. I watched and waited. Nothing moved, no door opened, no wandering husband slunk out of number 135.1 wasn't sure what to do next. Would I really have to hang around until morning? Not a pleasing prospect, given that the weather was getting worse by the minute. Fortunately Mr. Tomlinson had chosen his dalliance in my own corner of the city. My own room was but a ten minute walk away down Fifth Avenue. I could slip home to change my clothes, have a bath and a good sleep and be back in position before dawn broke, this time equipped with an umbrella. Of course, Mr. Tomlinson could emerge from the house at any time during the night and I'd miss my opportunity. If I left my post, he'd undoubtedly slip out while I slept and I'd have to conduct a nightly vigil ail over again. Besides, Paddy would never have left his post and I was trying to live up to his example.
I resolved to stick it out a little longer. If anyone could endure wind and rain, then it was surely I—having been raised on the wild west coast of Ireland where the rain usually fell horizontally and was whipped so hard by the driving wind that it stung like a swarm of bees. And nothing more than a shawl to wrap around me in those days either! Nothing like this long warm cape I had inherited from Paddy. I pulled it more closely around me and stuck my hands into the pockets to keep them warm.
Down at the other end of the block, on Broadway, the city was still awake. I heard a hansom cab clip clop past, the clang of a trolley car bell, raucous laughter, shouts, running feet. The city was never peaceful for long, but at least it was alive, which was more than I could say for County Mayo.
I stiffened as I heard a police whistle blowing, but the gale picked up and sounds were muffled again. Then I saw two figures coming along Twelfth Street toward me. I froze and stepped back behind the flight of steps, hoping they would pass by without noticing me. It was at times like this that I realized being a woman alone was a distinct disadvantage. Although I was still in a highly respectable neighborhood, only one block from the patricians of Fifth Avenue, things went downhill pretty quickly in the other direction and Broadway was not a street on which I'd feel comfortable walking alone at night. The footsteps came closer—a heavy measured tread of boots. I held my breath and pressed myself against the railing. They were almost past me when one of them turned. Before I knew what was happening, big hands reached out and grabbed me.
“Well, lookee what we've got here, Brendan!” a deep Irish voice boomed. “One of them did get away after all. And she's a little wild cat all right!” This last comment uttered as I tried to wriggle free from his grasp and swung a kick in the direction of his shins.
“Let go of me this instant!” I sounded less rattled than I really felt. “I'll call the police. I heard a police whistle just down the block. They'll be here in a second.”
“Call the police—that's a good one, eh, Brendan?” The big man who had hold of my wrists chuckled. His taller, skinnier companion laughed too a higher hee hee hee followed by a snort through his nose which I found very annoying.
“You don't think the New York City police can deal with the likes of you?” I was still attempting to remain calm and haughty. “Now unhand me immediately.”
“A proper little firebrand, and Irish too,” the big man said, as he attempted to bring my hands behind my back and I attempted to stamp on his toes. “We are the police, as you very well know.”
Relief flooded through me as I recognized the familiar uniforms under their rain capes. “Then you're making a terrible mistake, officers. I am no criminal. I'm a respectable citizen.”
This caused them more mirth. “A respectable citizen and my father's the pope in Rome! You did a bunk through the back window when my partner and I raided Tom Sharkey's saloon a few minutes ago. So where did your fancy boy get to? Left you to face the music alone, did he?”
It was just beginning to dawn on me that they thought I was a woman of a very different occupation. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I'm thinking the pair of you are in need of glasses,” I said angrily. “Look at me. Do I look like a woman of the streets?”
“She is kind of dowdy looking and she's not even wearing any rouge on her cheeks,” Brendan commented. “Maybe we have made a mistake.”
I decided to ignore this unflattering assessment of my charms. “Of course you've made a mistake. But I'll accept your apology, given that the light is so poor,” I said.
“So maybe she wasn't the young girl who escaped from the bawdy house,” the larger officer conceded, “but she's still up to no good. What would a respectable woman be doing out alone at this time of night?”
“If you really must know, I'm a private investigator, out on a case,” I said. “I'm observing a house opposite.”
If they had been mirthful before, then this time their jollity positively overflowed. They nudged each other in the side and staggered around guffawing while I gave my impression of Queen Victoria not being amused.
“If you don't believe me, I have my card in my purse,” I said. “I am a partner at J. P. Riley and Associates. You must have met Paddy Riley.”
“Paddy Riley?” The large constable gave me an incredulous glance. “Paddy Riley? You're not expecting me to believe that he'd ever work with a woman, are you? He hated women. Couldn't stand the sight of them. And anyway, Paddy Riley's dead and buried, in case you didn't know.”
“Of course I know. I'm carrying on the business without him, or I would be if you two great clodhoppers would just leave me in peace.”
He still had hold of my arm and I tried to wrench myself free.