Tell Me, Pretty Maiden (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #7)

“So you were following a man, Molly,” Sid prompted.

“Yes. I’ve been asked to check on the character and potential vices of a young man. I’m supposed to see if he’ll make a suitable husband.”

“And he was venturing into a disreputable part of the city? Tut, tut.” Sid chuckled.

“Only to visit his tailor as it turned out,” I admitted. “So far his behavior has been exemplary.”

Their guest was looking at me with interest. “Do I take it that you are some kind of detective?”

“I am,” I said.

“A very good one too,” Gus added proudly. “I haven’t introduced you properly, have I? Molly Murphy, this is Elizabeth Cochran Seaman. Molly has solved all sorts of dangerous cases. You’ll find her a fellow adventuress with stories to tell almost as good as your own.”

“Fascinating,” the woman said. “A woman detective. I don’t think I ever met one before.”

“Are you not a detective yourself?” I asked. “What other reason could there be for skulking around dressed as a boy on such a cold, unpleasant night?”

“I’m doing a little investigation of my own,” the woman said, smiling enigmatically. “Into the plight of newsboys.”

Sid came over to perch on the arm of the woman’s chair. “This, my dear Molly, is none other than the famous Nelly Bly.”

“But I thought you just introduced her as Elizabeth,” I said, and flushed at their laughter.

“My sweet, Nelly Bly is her pseudonym,” Sid said. “Surely you must have heard of her. She is very famous.”

“Infamous, rather, wouldn’t you say?” Nelly, or was it Elizabeth, chuckled.

“I’m sorry. The name is familiar but I really don’t know . . . ,” I mumbled.

“You have to remember that Molly has been in America less than two years,” Gus said, coming to put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Your most infamous exploits were all over by then, and perhaps news of them didn’t travel to Ireland.”

“It may have reached Dublin,” I said, laughing too now, “but not the backwater where I lived. We got the news of Queen Victoria’s death two days late.”

“Well, let me fill you in,” Sid said. “Elizabeth is a newspaper reporter. She specializes in exposing corruption, injustice, that dark underbelly of society that we should know about. She is worse than you at putting herself in harm’s way to achieve it, too.”

“She got herself arrested so that she could report on conditions in a women’s prison,” Gus said, “and she went undercover in an insane asylum.”

“From which they almost wouldn’t let me out,” Elizabeth added.

“And didn’t you cause a ruckus in Mexico?”

Elizabeth laughed out loud again. Truly she had a most infectious laugh. “I did indeed. I reported on the corruption surrounding their elections. I was lucky to have got out of that one alive.”

“So what adventures have you undertaken recently?” I asked. “I’ve read the newspapers diligently since I came here and I don’t think I’ve noticed your name.”

“My dear, I have been playing at being a staid married woman,” she said. “Only just recently it has begun to pall. And when I heard that the city newsboys were talking of forming a union, I thought what a good story it would make and resolved to look at their plight for myself. Hence the disguise.”

Gus looked across at Sid. “Aren’t you pleased that all our friends have so much spunk?”

“They wouldn’t stay our friends for long if they didn’t,” Sid said. “Life is too short to have boring friends. I must say it was delightful to discover that not all of our Vassar classmates had succumbed to matrimony and domestic drudgery.”

“What about that girl who had gone up the Amazon?” Gus exclaimed. “Her description of anacondas made me long to see for myself. Should we take a trip to the Amazon, do you think, Sid dearest?”

The fire and the hot toddy had brought back life to my hands and feet and I was feeling comfortable and drowsy. It occurred to me that conversations like this did not take place in many drawing rooms. Young women were supposed to swoon at the thought of a giant snake, not wish to rush up the Amazon to see one. I gazed at them fondly. Gus’s eye caught mine.

“Molly, where are our manners? You look quite worn out. Have you been overdoing things while we’ve been away? Have you eaten tonight?”

“Yes, thank you,” I said, not wanting to impose.

“And has Daniel the Deceiver been treating you well during our absence?” Sid asked.

“Daniel is still away, as far as I know,” I said. “I’ve not heard a peep from him since before Thanksgiving.”

“Just like a man.” Elizabeth chuckled. “It never crosses their minds to think that we women might be worried and want to hear from them. But why would you want to hear from a deceiver, may I ask?”