Where the hell was she? I went to the factory that morning, Lefty in tow. Maybe she had gone to Muriel's? But why didn't she want to come back to the lodging house? I had skipped selling the morning edition to arrive at the factory well before the morning shift. I saw Muriel coming up the street and confronted her.
"Where's Katja?" I demanded, and she shrank back. Maybe I shouldn't have been so belligerent, but my worry was making me a bit gruff.
"I don't know," she pleaded.
"When she shows up, let the newsie outside know," I barked at her, and she nodded. As I watched her retreating back, I looked around the street for Santorelli. I saw him headed up the street and turned to confront him.
"Where is Katja?" I demanded once more, and he just looked at me blankly.
"I expect she will be here soon. If not, she's fired," he said simply. I glared at him again. Legs had reported back to me last night that Santorelli had entered a building down the road and had not left. They didn't know which apartment was his, but by god we were going to find out tonight. Sighing in frustration, I left the man alone and continued to stalk up the street, looking for her. After an hour or so, it was obvious she wasn't coming. I left Lefty there with a promise that he would be relieved in a bit, then headed back toward Katja's old apartment I was nearly there when Brown ran into me.
"I did what you asked, Spot. I trailed that man this morning when he left. I even managed to see him locking a second floor apartment. I snuck in, but there was nobody there," he said. I nodded. I didn't need my boys arrested for breaking into an apartment, so the fact that he had done so told me how concerned he was for Katja. Now if only we could figure out where she was.
That night I went into Katja's room and stared around forlornly. I picked up some of the clothes that had been strewn around the room, folding them neatly and putting them away. I didn't remember her being so messy, but at that moment I didn't really care. I didn't even bother to look for the copy of Tom Sawyer I had set on her bed while she was at work yesterday . . . .