CHAPTER 16

Anna and Mrs. Rosenberg trudged up the steps to the Jonquil Apartments beneath a black umbrella and the dripping branches of pepper trees. Two stone cherubs stretched their wings above the door, promising peace and protection. Joe was nowhere to be seen. Anna looked about for the Spanish beauty, but she was gone too. Anna silently wished her well.

Mrs. Rosenberg unlocked the door and took Anna’s hand. Anna followed her across the threshold. The lady’s hand felt cold, like her eyes. “Of course, no men are allowed.”

Anna nodded. She had one goal—to find and rescue the twins and any other young girls who may be trapped by a warm bed, pig’s feet in batter, and no alternatives. Then she could take them back to the cow ring where she would feed them stolen mush until the Friday Morning Club came up with a better plan, or they were sent to Whittier Reform Academy where they wouldn’t be safe either, and the food was so bad they would yearn for the Jonquil. Anna squeezed her eyes shut. She had to stop thinking in hopeless circles or she would lose her gumption.

If they had witnesses, the LAPD could raid the Jonquil, she could give the story to the newspapers, and maybe some of the men who frequent the place could be prosecuted.

They tread down a colorless hallway, cold hand in trembling hand, passing apartments. Anna thought she heard the monotone drone of the twins in conversation floating through a door. One voice rose in anger. She took note of the room number. Mrs. Rosenberg paused and patted Anna to reassure her. “You’ll like your room. You get one of our few singles.”

She unlocked a door with a plain brass key, and then handed the key to Anna. The room was small and simple but clean. It featured no decorations and a twin bed with an old, brown, patchwork quilt—not a place to entertain men, certainly.

“I’ll let you rest up. The bathroom is down the hall. And please join us for breakfast in the café. My treat.” Mrs. Rosenberg exited the room backward with a puckered smile. “Good night.”

When the landlady had gone, Anna stepped into the hall and flounced in torn ruffles back to where she’d heard the voices of the twins. She pushed back her fake, wavy locks, and knocked on the door without an introduction, without even knowing their names.

One of the twins answered. “Hello.” She wore rouge, which she most certainly had not before.

Anna smiled and whispered, “Hello. I’m with the police.”

The girl looked Anna up and down. “You don’t look like you’re with the police.”

“I promise you, I am. There’s an officer waiting outside, but he can’t come in because he doesn’t have a warrant.”

The girl looked nervous.

Anna smiled extra hard. “I’m here to help you. Can I please come in? Pretty please?”

The girl cocked her head looking suspicious. “You’re not another Mrs. Rosenberg? You know. She seems nice, but she wants things.”

Anna shook her head vehemently. “I’m the opposite.” Of course, she did want things. She wanted them to testify. She crossed her fingers. If this twin did not take the bait, Anna would be exposed as an LAPD police matron and could never go undercover here again. Mrs. Rosenberg and the nefarious Black Pearl would be on their guard, and Anna could never move forward with prosecution. “We want to take you somewhere safe where you don’t have to do things with men.”

Suddenly, the girl seemed interested. “Is there food?”

“Very good food,” lied Anna. “And you’ll make lots of nice friends.” With Matilda, a forger, a counterfeiter, several shoplifters . . . “We’re like a family there. A happy one.”

The twin cocked her head.

“You can bring your sister, of course,” said Anna. “But we should go now.”

She heard Mrs. Rosenberg’s voice somewhere down the hall. Her own voice went high with desperation. “May I please come in?”

The twin hesitated.

Mrs. Rosenberg’s voice grew louder, closer. Anna blurted, “We play Parcheesi night and day.”

The twin opened the door wide and Anna slipped in.

The other twin sat on the bed gaping. Anna assumed her most charming demeanor. “Hello. I’m Matron Blanc with the LAPD. I’ve come to take you to safety.”

“I don’t want to go with you. Your dress is torn and your hair is weird.”

“I think we should go,” said the twin who had let Anna in.

“You would. You’re stupid,” said the twin on the bed.

The standing twin picked up a shoe from the floor and threw it, hitting her sister. “You’re stupid and ugly.”

Anna winced. “You’re twins.”

The twin on the bed threw the shoe back at her sister. “We aren’t coming.”

“Then, I have no choice. You’re both under arrest.”

Anna gripped both twins by the hands and dragged them down the hall, out the door of the Jonquil, and down the street at top speed. Their squawking alerted Mrs. Rosenberg who Anna heard shouting. Joe fell into step beside them. “Are you okay?”

“Fit as a fiddle.”

“Are they going to testify? Because the girl on the trunk is gone.”

Anna gave him a meaningful look. “We are going to give them tasty food, a warm bed, and new friends. And they won’t have to do things with men. That’s as far as we’ve gotten.”

Mrs. Rosenberg came running from behind and darted in front of Anna, causing her to stop. “Gladys Syldag, what do you think you’re doing?” Her lips were puckered to a point.

“Biscuits! Joe, we’re found out. We can’t let her get back to the Jonquil.”

Joe flashed his brass star. “Mrs. Rosenberg, you’re under arrest.”

The Henry twins had come from Minnesota on a train, virtuous yet friendless, traveling alone to the land of sunshine, fleeing a drunken father who loved the belt and had broken Sue’s arm. He had pulled them out of school five years ago to replace their dead mother’s labor. Anna could only tell them apart because Clementine’s hair was short on one side. Sue had chopped it while her twin was sleeping. Sue was older than Clementine by ten all-important minutes. They were unloved and sixteen.

When Anna gave them a stern look, Sue clammed up, but Clementine sang like a canary. Mrs. Rosenberg had found them at the train station and offered them a place to stay. They quickly found themselves in the arms of bushy mustache man and scrawny mustache man. It had been frightening and painful, but the girls were flattered and were each briefly fifty dollars richer—more money than they had ever seen. Mrs. Rosenberg had then taken all their money, in addition to her cut, to pay room and board for the next two months. Subsequent earnings would be split down the middle. In two months, they’d owe rent again.

Anna thought this deal was rather ingenious on the part of Mrs. Rosenberg. Any girl with scruples would have to choose between the dangerous streets and excellent food. She could lie to herself and tell herself she would stay the two months and not see men, meanwhile looking for a job, but expenses would crop up, and it would be so easy to entertain just one more time—especially if it were the same man every time. It would almost be like taking a lover. Especially if all the other girls were doing it. By the end of two months, the girl would be used to the idea.

Sue and Clementine had only been at the Jonquil Apartments for a week. Anna promised them they could stay in the cow ring and that she would try to get them a refund.

The next morning, Anna and Joe interviewed Mrs. Rosenberg together in the presence of her lawyer, a Mr. W.H. Stevens. His demeanor was serious, as if he were more serious than anyone who had ever lived. Anna felt he did not take her seriously at all, but that was no surprise. His hair was perfectly controlled. He sat there frowning.

Mrs. Rosenberg folded her arms tight across her chest. “Officer, you’re being absurd. I don’t know any Black Pearl. My tenants are not prostitutes. They’re career girls. They work in shops or in theater. Some are nurses. They certainly don’t entertain men in my apartments. They have single beds, for heaven’s sake.”

Joe was all cop. “That’s not what the twins say, and they don’t agree on much. They say you lured them into sin and profited from it. They’re virtuous minors Mrs. Rosenberg—or they were virtuous. Now they’re broken blossoms. You’re using children for immoral purposes. That’s a kidnapping charge right there. Those girls are going to testify against you. Why go down alone? If you help us, the judge will go easier on you. Just give us the Black Pearl.”

The woman remained resolutely silent.

Anna despised pouty Mrs. Rosenberg on the balance, but begrudgingly admired her faithfulness to the Black Pearl. Her puckered lips were sealed.

When they left the room, Joe said, “I think it’s time for a raid—before she posts her bail. I can get a warrant. We go in, look for young girls, look for drugs.”

Anna clapped her hands. “Yes! I’d love to raid.”

“Captain Wells is not going to let you raid. It’s too dangerous.”

“A woman has to go to protect the girls.”

“I’ve already spoken to him. He said no.”

He said “no” was the story of Anna’s life.