Peggy seemed more cheerful than she had in a while. She hummed as she brought a breakfast tray into Hazel’s room. Hazel yawned, pushed herself to a sitting position, and propped her pillows behind her. It was late morning, but she felt as if she had hardly slept. “Morning, Peggy.”

“Good morning to you, angel face. I know you had a big night last night, so I thought you might like a bite to eat in the comfort of your bed. Besides, your folks have already eaten and gone out for the day.”

“Mumsy too?” It seemed unusual for her mother to be up so soon following a bash like last night.

“Up and stone sober. Said she had some Christmas shopping to do. I’m to watch over you.” Peggy set down the tray across her lap, laid out a linen serviette, and poured the coffee. Then she glided across the room and pulled back the drapes to let the morning sun into the room. “There now.”

Hazel’s eyes teared up. Peggy was such a good mother. “Thank you ever so much.”

“Happy to serve.” Peggy smiled until she noticed Hazel’s eyes. “Oh, now, now. Last night was a terrible night, to be sure.” She sat on the edge of Hazel’s bed.

Hazel nodded, reaching for a piece of toast. She was bursting to talk about Stanley but didn’t know how to start. “I hear you had quite a night yourself.”

Peggy furrowed her brow. “Well, Arthur sure made a right bag of things last night. There will be hell to pay, to be sure. But this has been a long time in coming. Perhaps things needed to come to light this way.”

“Arthur is a menace. Between his mess and the things that Stanley writes, I’m sure there’ll be retaliation. Stanley says things that will make him a target.” She waited to see Peggy’s reaction at the mention of his name.

“Many a time a man’s mouth broke his nose. Stanley is no stranger to speaking his mind and paying for it. But this time he speaks for everyone, and he doesn’t stand alone. He is a good lad, and I’m fond of him.”

Hazel smiled at the glow on her maid’s face. “You’re proud of him … he’s grown up to be like his father.”

“That he has,” Peggy answered, and then realization lit her face. “So he told you then?”

Hazel set down the toast she had been holding, her lip trembling. “He did, and I think it’s just about the duckiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Peggy let out a laugh and hugged Hazel. “It is, darlin’ girl. It is. I’ve waited for this day for so long. There, there, are you cryin’?”

“I’m happy crying, Peggy. You’ve been such a swell mother to me. I’m so happy for him to have you now too.”

“Now you’ve done it.” Peggy wiped a tear from her own eye.

“I love you so much and … I love Stanley too.”

Peggy patted her cheek. “I know, dear. I saw it from the start.”

“Did you?”

“Oh, yes. I saw it on you and all over him as well. He always knew … he has a gift for feelin’ things, I’m guessin’. The two of you have a special connection that goes beyond just me.”

Hazel’s cheeks heated. “I feel like myself with him. I feel like I found my true home.”

Peggy nodded. “Anam Cara.”

“What’s that mean?” Hazel took a sip of coffee. It felt so good to be sitting and talking about Stanley this way with Peggy. She wanted to pretend that the rest of the world was not falling apart for just a little while.

“Oh, it’s old Irish, meaning soulmate. One with whom no divides or walls have power. You could be as different as the sun from the moon and still share the same sky forever.”

Hazel sighed. “That sounds heavenly. But … he sure makes me mad sometimes. It isn’t all rainbows.”

Peggy chuckled. “Love is a fiery thing, lass. And to be sure … he is a man after all. Bless their souls.”

Hazel’s heart swelled, picturing Stanley in all of his moods. Remembering his kisses filled her with unspeakable joy. All at once, she thought of how she had to stay away from him, and her insides sank. “I don’t know when all of this madness will end, and I can see him again.”

“He told you to stay away then?”

“It’s better if they all think we’re through.”

“Be patient. I have a feeling things are on the brink of change.”

“But … what if they come after all of us?”

“Under the shelter of each other, people survive.” Her Irish sure came out when she was happy.

Peggy’s dimple showed, and she smoothed Hazel’s curls. It was something she’d done for as long as Hazel could recall. The simple gesture that often started her day. As a child, if Hazel was scared of the dark or sad, Peggy would smooth her curls and hum her to sleep.

In another life, Peggy would have done the same for Stanley. But instead, he’d been a lonely, little boy with no one to tell him that everything would be okay. Hazel wanted to be the one to smooth his hair and comfort him. It was only fair.

“Now, eat your breakfast before the eggs get cold.”

Hazel took a forkful and gave Peggy a wink. “You got it, mom.”

The Irish maid grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

 

 

 

 

Stanley wanted evidence about Maxie’s visits to the clinic. Hazel had easier access to what they needed than anyone else. After explaining why she needed to go to the clinic, Peggy said she could as long as she brought Henri along, and that it was right and natural for Hazel to do her part … as long as she was careful.

Hazel had spent an hour that afternoon at the clinic doing the usual tasks of cleaning and assisting Doctor Galton with patients. So far, there had been a little girl who needed stitches on her chin, an old man with a bad cough, and a Chinese woman with a rash.

The doctor was efficient and friendly, as usual. Hazel had to keep reminding herself that there was something sinister going on. It was strange that he had not mentioned what had happened at the ball. In fact, he had barely spoken to her at all.

After the woman with the rash had gone, Doctor Galton washed his hands thoroughly, and Hazel handed him a towel.

“Thank you, Hazel. I’ll be in my office for a while doing paperwork. You can go home early today if you would like. Marie will be here any minute to do anything else that I may need here.” He adjusted his glasses.

“Are you sure?” Hazel hesitated. She needed time to search his files. “Do you have anything new for me to organize? Or maybe …”

He smiled at her. “If you call Jennings now, you’ll get home before dark. Days are short this time of year. Go have some fun—school is out for the holidays.”

“I think I will … Henri is waiting patiently outside. I’m sure he’ll be happy to go. Let me finish cleaning the exam room first.” She gave him one of her sunniest smiles.

“Good!” He turned and went into his office and shut the door.

Hazel took a deep breath. She’d recently filed a lot of the new patient files for the doctor in a room across from his office. It was lined with filing cabinets, some of them locked. It occurred to her that it was an awful lot of paperwork for a new clinic. It couldn’t all be patient files … She walked softly and shut herself in, flipping on the light. Pulling open a drawer, she found a stack of empty file folders where there used to be patient charts.

A couple of empty drawers later, she opened one that had forms written in German. There were people’s names at the top, and it looked like information about their height, weight, where they lived, and their jobs. At the bottom, each form had a serial number in bold.

The numbers. The tattoos.

Hazel lost her breath for a moment and flipped through the forms as fast as she could. Name after name and serial numbers. In the next drawer, as she paddled through the files, a name lit up from the page. “Robert Guido.” It took Hazel a few moments. That was Teeth’s last name.

Then, voices came through the wall. Marie was talking to the doctor in German. Hazel’s hands went still as she strained to hear what was being said. Whatever they were talking about, it got intense. She crept to the door and opened it a crack. From across the hall, the harsh tones of their voices peaked and fell in sharp staccato. She wished for the second time in her life that she spoke German. Then one word stood out to Hazel … an attack word that Mick used with Henri.

“Vernichten.” Destroy. Kill. Exterminate.

Hazel’s skin crawled. The cold fingers of evil seemed to rake down her back. She didn’t want to be there—had to get out. In her hurry, she shut the cabinet drawer too hard, and the half-full cabinet rocked just enough for the empty coffee mug sitting on its top edge to tumble to the floor.

The sound of it smashing on the tiles stopped Hazel’s heart, and the voices across the hall quieted. In a panic, Hazel searched the room for a place to hide. No dice. There was a push broom leaned against the wall behind the door. She snatched it just as the door to the office across the hall opened. Hazel held the broom tight in both hands in case she’d need her escrima skills.

Marie entered the room first, a scowl on her face. “Was ist los?”

Hazel lowered the broom, struggling for words.

Doctor Galton came in behind the nurse. “You all right in here, Hazel? I thought you’d gone by now.”

She swallowed, summoning her inner actress. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a klutz. I was looking everywhere for the broom—it wasn’t in the closet. Then I knocked the mug down with the broom handle when I walked by. It was stupid.” Her voice shook from nerves, but it sounded like tears were coming.

The doctor eyed her carefully and then nodded. “It’s only a mug. And I apologize, I was the one who left the broom in here.”

Whew.

Marie said something under her breath, and the doctor shot her a look. There was tension between the two of them. “Things are in hand here, Marie,” he said in a firm voice.

The nurse briskly left the room.

Doctor Galton sighed and removed his eyeglasses. “It seems everyone is on edge right now. Marie will sweep up. Go take your holiday, I insist.”

“Okay. I am a bit distracted lately. I didn’t sleep well last night.” She leaned the broom against the wall.

“Sorry to hear that.” He paused and put his spectacles back on. “Perhaps you could make plans with your newsie?”

Hazel’s heart paused. It felt like a test. She made a face. “He’s a swell kid. But not really my type … and he seems to find trouble wherever he goes.” The morning paper had not mentioned Stanley by name, and she didn’t know what the doctor knew. It probably didn’t help the Veiled Prophet to mention the “newsie hero” being a hero again. They needed a scapegoat. The focus had to be on the ruffian attack. “Anyway.” She smiled shyly. “Don’t tell anyone …” She lowered her voice as if she was about to tell a secret.

The doctor leaned forward, brows raised. “Yes?”

“I think Gabriel Sinclair is a dream.” She sighed and patted her heart.

He grinned at her. “He is a handsome boy. And from an excellent family. I wouldn’t have this clinic if it weren’t for them. I guess not everything that happened at the ball was a disaster then?” He’d breached the subject. She had to be very careful now.

She shook her head. “Were you there?”

“Oh, no. As a simple neighborhood doctor, I would not be invited to such a prestigious event.”

Hazel wondered if that was true. He had all of the right connections. “Well … it was spectacular at first. Simply heavenly until that nutty street rat tried to wipe us all out.” Tears stung her eyes. “Oh, it was so awful.”

His expression was sympathetic. “It must have been frightening. I read about it in the papers. A close call.”

“It was. I saw my whole world threatened.”

The doctor nodded. “Yes. It was indeed threatened. As long as unfortunate souls like that are allowed to roam free, we are all in danger. The poor boy is a product of bad breeding and mentality. His suffering becomes everyone else’s.”

Hazel shivered. “I see what you mean. I wish there was something I could do about all of this.”

Doctor Galton’s smile seemed forced. “You are doing something. You’re helping me to help all of them. We do what we can to eliminate and relieve suffering. For the good of all.”

“Creating a safer place for everyone,” Hazel said.

“That’s right. In the meantime, don’t worry too much. Things will work out. There are good people working on the problem.”

“Thank you.” Hazel’s adrenaline had dissipated, and she was suddenly tired and wanted to be home.

“Take a few days off. I’ll see you after Christmas?” His smile was encouraging.

“Yes … I’ll be here. Have a merry Christmas.”

“Thank you. You do the same.”

Hazel smiled and walked away. She realized she hadn’t called Jennings, but she didn’t want to ask to use the doctor’s office telephone. Henri could walk with her to the trolley to catch a ride. She went to her locker, hung up the apron, and grabbed her coat and handbag. There were a few people waiting in the reception area as she left, and Marie was talking with one of them, holding a clipboard.

Hazel stood out in front of the clinic with Henri hopping around her legs for several minutes, staring out at the street. It was nearly evening. She buttoned her coat against the chill. A few people walked by, some automobiles passed. Up the street, there was the sound of Christmas music coming from a tavern. The world went on fairly peacefully despite all the talk of danger and destruction.

A loud scraping echoed from the shadowed alleyway beside the clinic. Hazel tugged on Henri’s leash. “Fuss.” He quickly followed her to the side of the building.

Light from the low sun did not reach the cluttered alleyway. In the shadows, Hazel saw a man with his hands against the large trash container. It had been pushed against the clinic under the window of one of the storage rooms stacked with a disarray of tables, chairs, and boxes.

It was just a trash man. Maybe there to salvage something. Hazel was about to turn back to the street when the man adjusted his bowler hat with a familiar gesture.

Arthur. Why was he still loose?

Hazel flattened herself against the brick wall of the alley and slid down to crouch behind some empty wooden crates stacked there. “Ruhig,” she whispered to her dog. He went still and quiet.

The renegade newsie climbed on top of the metal box and forced the window open a crack with a crowbar he produced from his baggy trousers. Then he sat and lit a cigarette. He puffed on it a few times before reaching into the inside pocket of his oversized coat. He pulled out a bottle that sloshed with liquid and removed the cork.

He took a handkerchief and stuffed it into the bottle of liquid, leaving a tail of it hanging out of the top. Pinching his cigarette between two fingers, he contemplated the tip, while smoke trailed out of his nose.

Henri sniffed the air, and his ears perked. Before Hazel could stop the young dog, he jumped and let out a bark.

Arthur sprung to his feet, turning in Hazel’s direction.

Bananas. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he wouldn’t see her where she crouched.

“Peek-a-boo,” Arthur said, slow and deliberate. “I see you, Princess.”

Knees shaking, Hazel slowly stood to face him. She gripped Henri’s leash. He was her only defense.

“C’mere.”

Hazel shook her head. Not a chance, buster.

“Not here to stop me then? Wanna watch?”

“What are you doing?” Hazel demanded.

“First, I wanna show you something.” With the cigarette between his fingers, he cupped his hand around his mouth. “Help me!” he squealed in a high pitched voice.

Hazel glanced around in confusion. Behind her was the outlet to the mostly empty street. The alley echoed as he screamed again. “Help!”

Nothing happened. Nobody came running. He looked down at her with a piercing glare. “This is Dogtown, bright eyes. Not the good ship lollipop.”

She got the message. “Sandy would never forgive you if something happened to me. I’m the next best thing to a sister that she’s got left.”

“And she may never forgive me if I don’t finish what we started …” He gestured at the open window with the hand that held the bottle. “See my problem?” He stuck the cigarette between his lips and breathed in.

“She wants you to sneak into the clinic and have a party?” Hazel smirked, getting some of her sass back. He was no Al Capone, just a crazy kid with a grudge, but he had a couple of weak spots. She sensed it. Sandy and Stanley.

He squinted at her like she was an idiot. “This ain’t to drink. It’s gasoline, dollface.”

“I see … and you light it up and …”

“Now she’s got it. I know this kind of stuff only exists in the movies for you.”

Hazel bristled. “Don’t do it …” She tried to think of what would convince him to stop.

“Why? Because your hero doc is still inside? I’m counting on it.” He sneered.

“There are others in there besides. People from your own neighborhood. Henri and I will run out to the street and get help.”

He set the bottle on the windowsill and pushed the window open wider. “I’ll be done and long gone by then.”

Desperate, Hazel pointed at Arthur. “Fass!”

Henri burst from her side and galloped toward Arthur. He leaped up on the side of the trash bin, scratching and barking. Arthur slipped and scrambled backward, away from the snarling dog. Hazel’s heart thumped. Henri was truly intimidating. Mick had been working hard to turn him into a killer, and it was working.

Arthur’s sudden fear turned to anger. He picked up the crowbar and clutched it in both hands. Cigarette dangling from his mouth, he grated, “Get this pooch away from me, or you’ll be scooping up his brains with those manicured hands of yours.”

Hazel didn’t doubt him. There was a look on his face that terrified her. She approached the trash bin. “Anhalten,” she commanded.

Henri backed away, a deep growl in his throat. Then he turned and trotted back to Hazel, his tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “Braver Hund,” she said, patting the dog’s head, her eyes not leaving the boy in the bowler hat. Her mind skipped to a new tactic. “Listen … Stanley wants me to find evidence in there about the murdered maid. I haven’t found it yet. Burn it down, and we lose the chance.”

Arthur lowered the crowbar. “I have all the evidence I need about this place.”

“This isn’t just about eliminating the people you see as problems. It’s about the truth getting out to the public to stop the whole thing. For that we need proof.”

Arthur removed his hat, anger still simmering on his face. “They’ve been taking my boys,” he said.

“I know … I saw the files. Names and serial numbers. There might be more about where they are now and what’s happened, but I can’t read German.”

Arthur’s eyes lit with interest. “You on the level, swell?”

She could see she had him. The anger was draining from his body. “Yes. I saw one with the name Robert Guido on it. Thought maybe he was a relation to Teeth?”

Arthur blinked. “That ain’t nobody but Bobby ‘Teeth’ Guido himself.”

“They have him, then. The question is where?”

“Why don’t I just go in there, smash in the doc’s skull, take his papers, and find out?”

“His nurse is in there too and some patients. Just give me a couple of days. I’ll get what you need and what Stanley needs.”

It looked as if he might argue, when a police siren split the air. Arthur grabbed the bottle and his crowbar and jumped down from the top of the large, metal bin.

“You better make good on that.” He pointed the crowbar at her and then turned away and ran down the darkening alleyway, away from the street.

Hazel wandered out to the street in a daze. The sunlight had drained from the sky, and the neighborhood was in the shadow of the buildings now. Shaking and on the brink of tears, she watched as a police car passed the clinic and stopped at the tavern up the street. There was a small crowd of men on the sidewalk, walloping each other and shouting. The siren turned off and two officers exited the patrol car; one had his gun drawn.

She sadly shook her head and turned her back on the violence. If the Veiled Prophet didn’t kill everyone off, they might just do the job themselves.