The Diviners
“On a moving aeroplane?”
Sam grinned. “You should try it sometime. Though if you really want to see someone do it up right, you should see Barnstormin’ Belle Butler, the aerialist extraordinaire.”
“Who is that, pray tell?”
“An old friend.”
Evie arched an eyebrow. “What sort of friend?”
Sam smiled but didn’t satisfy her curiosity. “The circus brought me to Coney Island. When they headed south to Florida for the winter, I decided to stay here for a while, see if I could make enough money so I could find my mother.”
Evie looked at the postcard again. It was a beautiful picture of blue skies and tall trees, with mountains in the background. She handed it back to Sam, who secured it inside his jacket pocket once more. “Doesn’t seem like much to go on.”
“I’m going to find her,” Sam said, sounding very determined. “So now you know about me. What about you? How’d you end up with your uncle?”
Should she tell him the truth? Then she might have to admit that she’d tried to read his mother’s postcard and gotten nothing from it. He might be furious. Or he might ask her to try again. And when she couldn’t get a read, he’d think she was a liar.
“I killed a man for insulting my honor,” Evie said blithely.
“Naturally. And?”
“And… I robbed a five-and-dime. I can never have enough paste bracelets.”
“Who can? And?”
“And… I accused the town golden boy of knocking up a chambermaid.”
Sam let out a low whistle. “For fun?”
“I don’t understand. If it was true, how come you got sent up the river?”
“Hmm. And then these murders started in New York. Coincidence?”
“You’re on to me, Lloyd. I’m afraid I’ll have to kill you now. Be a honey and sit still while I strangle you.” Evie reached playfully for his throat and Sam jerked the wheel, making the car swerve and Evie scream.
“I’ll go quietly, sister,” Sam said, correcting their course. “Just don’t wreck us.”
They parked Will’s old Model T a block away and dodged the trolley rattling up the cobblestones of Centre Street on their way toward the Tombs. The imposing, elliptical jail was anchored by a turret at each end and surrounded by a tall stone wall and an iron railing, which made it seem more like some medieval fortress than a modern New York City building.
“If I give you this signal”—Sam put a finger to the side of his nose—“it means distract the flat foot while I steal what we need. Got it?”
“Got it. But how will we find where they’re holding him?” Evie said in despair. They entered the building to find a bedlam of officers and miscreants. It was like opening night at a Broadway show of criminals.
Sam walked up to the officer at the front desk. “Pardon me. The lady here heard you might be holding her brother, Jacob Call?”
The officer conferred with someone over the telephone and came back shaking his head.
“No visitors.”
“I see. We just want to be sure he’s not being held down below. He had pneumonia just last month, and that swampy air isn’t good for his lungs,” Sam said.
The officer turned to Evie. “He’s in the warden’s office on this floor, so you can rest easy, Miss.”
Evie batted her lashes and tried to look forlorn. “Thank you. You’ve been a real doll, sir.”
Sam put his finger to his nose in the secret signal, at which Evie’s eyes fluttered. She swayed on her feet. “Oh, ohhhh…” She swooned as attractively as she could, and the officer caught her. Through slitted eyes, Evie watched Sam steal his keys.
“Oh, thank you, officer. If I could just sit down somewhere until I feel steadier on my feet?”
The officer led them inside to a waiting bench. Evie winked at Sam and he whispered low in her ear, making her neck tingle. “Sister, together, we could be a hell of a team.”