AN: Sorry, everyone. I got more busy than I thought I would. Besides, it's always good to put a piece aside for awhile and let it sit, right? I haven't forgotten or given up on this!
"I have to run an errand in Manhattan," I said as we reached the bridge. Katja looked up at me curiously.
"What's that?" she asked.
"I'll tell you after I get back. I'm not sure yet," I said, and she smiled.
"That makes no sense," she said, and I laughed. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to upset her by talking about Muriel until I had a bit more of a sense of the girl's story. She put her arms around me tentatively, and I smiled inwardly at her shyness. She's my girl now; she's allowed to put her arms around me. In fact, I'll have to encourage it. But not now. I needed to go to Manhattan.
"I promise I'll tell ya when I'm done," I said, putting my arms loosely around her and kissing the top of her head.
"Do you need me to do anything in the meantime?" she asked, and I thought for a moment.
"If you want to sell, feel free. If you don't, you could grab a pape from one of the guys and see about a job. But only if you want one," I said. It wasn't that I thought she had to work. I could sell enough for both of us. It was that I thought it would help her confidence and keep her from getting bored. "Stick close to the guys, though, alright?"
"I can do that," she said thoughtfully.
"I'll see you late this afternoon," I said, pulling myself reluctantly from her embrace, giving her another kiss on the top of the head, and turning to head across the bridge.
"Tell the guys I said hi," she called after me, and I waved in acknowledgement as I trotted across the bridge and towards Manhattan.
I hadn't gone far when I ran into Specs. He's a bit of a quiet fellow, but he's always been observant.
"Spot," he said, surprise in his voice. I know he'd be afraid to run into me in Brooklyn, but I was on his turf, and he knows I respect that.
"Trug and the girl make it to your lodging house?" I asked, knowing he'd have at least some knowledge of that situation.
"Yeah. We didn't know what it was about, but Trug just said you'd be by later to take care of things," he said. I nodded.
"Good. See ya around," I said, waving him on his way and hopping onto a passing wagon. I reached Duane Street in good time, and as I entered I saw Kloppman, the man who ran the place, throw me a look.
"Heya, Kloppman," I said, aware that he knew me and wanted an explanation about the girl upstairs. "I need to talk to da goil. Den I'll fill you in." He nodded, waving me by, and I headed upstairs. There in the bunkroom was Trug, resting on one of the bunks. He wasn't asleep, though, and when he heard me enter he leaped to his feet. Seeing me, he relaxed.
"Want me to go?" he asked softly, waving his hand to indicate Muriel sitting by the window, staring out vacantly. I nodded, and he left quietly. I knew he wouldn't go far.
"Muriel," I said quietly, and the girl turned to me. She shrank back a bit, and I noticed in her hand she was clutching a bag as if it were a lifeline. Probably her possessions, though I did notice another, larger bag nearby-probably carried here by Trug.
"Why am I here, Mr. Conlon?" she asked, looking up at me fearfully. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair.
"First off, you can call me Spot," I said. "And you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not going to hurt you, and when I give that order, nobody's going to hurt you. That's why I had Trug with you all day." I looked at her, and she nodded, and while still uncertain, I could see her features relax just a bit. Clearly Trug had been good to her and built up some trust.
"Okay, Spot," she said hesitantly.
"Good. Now, I want to know if Santorelli did to you what I suspect he did," I said, and she immediately blanched.
"Look," I said in a softer tone, realizing that bluntness was too much for her right now. "I have a pretty good idea of what happened, but I'm the only one who does. Nobody knows, okay?" She nodded, and I continued. "I'm asking because I want to understand what happened with Katja when she disappeared."
"Did he-do things-" she nearly choked on the words- "to her, too?" Her voice was a whisper, but in the stillness of the empty bunkroom I heard her clearly.
"Yeah," I said, trying to keep my voice steady even though just saying it out loud still brought feelings of guilt. Muriel started to cry.
"I didn't think he-" and she trailed off. I forced myself to stay silent, knowing the dam was about to break and not wanting to force anything. She gathered herself.
"It started right before Katja came to work our shift," she said. "He started the job a few weeks before, and almost the first day he told me that I could earn a little extra. He told me he could arrange a raise or he could have me fired. All I had to do was come into his office every day during my shift and-" she trailed off. "Then Katja came, and I could see he wanted to do the same to her. But she always talked about her Papa and how close they were, so he never really did anything. It was like that for months." Muriel took a breath and gathered herself.
"Then he got word he was going to be transferred to morning shift. He made me transfer with him, even though it meant I couldn't go to school anymore. He was talking about what he wanted to do with Katja when word came that her pop had died. A few days later, he had me meet you at the door. He threatened to hurt me if I didn't do what he said. And the next day, he had me call the cops and tell them she was at work. I didn't know why, but then they came and raided the place, and she ran. I didn't know what was going on." She was sobbing by now, and I had no idea what to do other than to hand her a handkerchief, which she took gratefully. After a few minutes, she resumed speaking, interrupted by the hiccups that had started.
"He told me to tell you she had run away but not to tell you anything else," she said. I winced as I remembered yelling at her on the day Katja had disappeared. "He told me what he would do to me if . . . . The next day he waited until he heard newsies outside, then sent me to break into your lodging house. Told me to get some of Katja's things. I snuck in through the fire escape." I stiffened, remembering the mess in Katja's room just after she had disappeared and the missing Twain novel. "After that, he left me alone most days. But every few days he would remind me of what he would do if I ever said anything. I didn't know what happened to Katja. I thought maybe he killed her."
Damn. She was really afraid, and for all I knew, rightfully so. We had to keep her hidden until this was over. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, not bothering to try to fill the silence that had fallen. I wondered if we were doing the right thing, going through a legal process like this. Was Santorelli really that dangerous? Maybe we should . . . I pushed the thought aside for the moment when Muriel spoke again.
"Is Katja . . . " she didn't finish the question, but I could hear genuine concern in her voice.
"She'll be okay. She got away, and she's in a safe place," I said. "What I'm worried about is whether anyone will be looking for you."
"I doubt it, but I don't know," she said. "My uncle won't. He's not really my uncle, you see. He just took me in for the rent money. But Mr. Santorelli will know-"
My heart went out to this lonely girl. Newsie life is tough, but at least we have each other. She didn't seem to have anyone.
"Let me worry about him," I interrupted, and she nodded hesitantly. "For now, I'm going to make arrangements for you to stay here in Manhattan. The newsies here are a good bunch, and they can keep you safe. I think it's best if you stay away from Brooklyn for awhile."
She stared at me, her eyes wide. I could see her fear as she looked around the room, counting the bunks.
"Hey," I said firmly, and she looked at me, that trace of fear back in her expression. "They're good guys. None of them will lay a hand on you. You're under their protection-and mine. We'll put you up at the Working Girls' Home, but the boys will have to be the ones to introduce you and take you over. You'll probably spend a night or two here first."
"Is that a good idea?" she asked. I shrugged.
"I know these guys. You'll be in excellent hands, and they and the girls can probably even help you find a job. C'mon, I'll introduce you to Kloppman and a few of the boys."
I took her downstairs, where we saw Trug talking with Kloppman.
"Kloppman, dis here's Muriel," I said, gesturing to the girl. "It ain't safe for her to be in Brooklyn, and I need her where the boys can keep an eye on her. Any way you could bend the rules about a girl for a night or two until she goes to da goils' house?" Kloppman looked at the red-rimmed eyes and haunted expression on the face of the girl behind me, and I could see him soften. I placed two dimes on the counter. "That should pay her up for a bit," I said, knowing it would was more than she'd need. I slid another dollar towards him, but he slid it right back at me.
"It's important?" the old man asked.
"Very, or I wouldn't ask," I replied. He knew I was right, and he nodded. "I'm going to take her to meet da fellas. She'll be back tonight with them. Any problems and you send someone to me." He nodded.
"It won't put the boys in danger?" he asked, and I shook my head.
"Nah. Nothin' illegal, either. Just a personal problem," I said, and he nodded. I gestured for the girl to follow, and I noticed she was still clutching the bag.
"You want Trug to put that upstairs with your other stuff?" I asked and she hesitated. Trug, who'd been sitting nearby while I talked to Kloppman, moved in and held out his hand. She slowly placed the bag in his hand, and he instantly disappeared upstairs.
"How do you know he won't go through it?" she asked, and I could her the tremor in her voice.
"Because he's not that kind of guy," I replied. "And he knows I'll kill him if he even looks inside."
She shrank a bit at the words, but I think she knew I wasn't being literal. Maybe. I led her outside, sending Trug back to Brooklyn with the coins I had earned for him, and we set off in search of Dutchy. He and I hit it off last summer, and he's big and intimidating but with a soft, open expression. He's also soft spoken and, from what the girls say, good looking, so I figured he'd help put Muriel at ease. Or maybe Snoddy would do-he has some of those qualities. Anyway, as we walked it was my turn to talk.
"Katja and I have spoken to a lawyer. We want to have Santorelli arrested," I said. "It would be great if you could testify. You don't have to decide right now, though." She nodded, her eyes darting around the crowded street even as she took in what I was saying.
"Would I have to see him?" she asked, and I shrugged.
"I don't know. Probably in the courtroom. But I'd be there, and the police, and Katja," I replied.
"I'll think about it," she whispered, her eyes still moving up and down the street. The girl was like a wounded animal, skittish and frightened.
"I also want your permission to let her know you're here," I added.
Muriel looked up at me at that. She nodded hesitantly. "Okay," she whispered, and I nodded as we continued on. I handed her three dollars to cover food and lodging for the first few days until she could find a job and let her know to send word if she needed more. It wasn't long before we noticed Snoddy and Snipeshooter selling the afternoon edition. Snoddy spotted me first and walked over hesitantly. He, like Specs earlier, knew there would be a reason for my being on their turf, and as such he could greet me as a friend, even if I did obviously make him a bit nervous.
"Spot," Snoddy said, spitting in his hand and extending it.
"Snoddy," I said, returning the gesture and shaking his hand. I noticed Muriel wrinkle her nose a bit and grinned, my mind flashing back briefly to the conversation I'd had with Katja on New Years' Eve. Girls didn't realize we barely used any spit when we did this. Snipeshooter walked up at that moment, and I punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Shooter, go find Cowboy. Meet us at Tibby's," I said, and he nodded, handing Snoddy his papes and bolting through the crowd. The kid isn't small anymore, but he still has a knack for getting through the crowd. I turned to Snoddy.
"This here's Muriel," I said, gesturing to the girl cowering beside me. "She's a friend of mine, and she needs your help. Muriel, this is Snoddy," I said. Ordinarily I would have to give a death glare to someone as a warning to play nice, but I didn't bother here-Snoddy is the kindest, most unassuming newsboy I have ever met.
"Hi," he said, wiping his hand on his trousers before extending it to Muriel. She shook it tentatively, and I noticed that while she didn't look down the way Katja always did when she was shy, she didn't quite meet Snoddy's gaze, either. We headed over toward Tibby's, Snoddy ahead and Muriel cowering beside me.
"He ain't gonna bite ya," I whispered, giving her a big, conspiratorial wink. She smiled slightly at that, looking at his back.
We reached Tibby's just before Snipeshooter and Jack, grabbing a booth in the back. I stood and spit shook with Jack as the boys entered, then gestured for them to have a seat and join us.
"Boys, this here's Muriel," I said, and their eyes flew over to her. She ducked her head, but I could see an attempt at a smile on her face. Brave girl. "She's not safe in Brooklyn right now, so I was wonderin' if you could take her in for a few weeks. I've already cleared it with Kloppman for her to stay with youse for a night or two until you can get her settled at the goils' home," I said. Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. No wonder. This was an unusual request.
"Why with us?" he asked.
"I need her safe. We'll be corresponding in the next few weeks, and I need to be able to find her," I said. Muriel nodded, and I could see her confidence growing. She was starting to trust me.
"So you want us to keep an eye on her," Jack said.
"You could try gettin' to know her," I added, raising an eyebrow, and Jack looked a bit abashed.
"Sorry," he muttered in her direction. "Spot's right. You're good staying with us for tonight?"
"I guess," she said.
"Just make sure she's safe," I said, giving Jack that icy look that says I mean business. He threw up his hands defensively.
"Hey, no problem. We'll look out for her," he said, and I grinned.
"I got a long walk back tonight," I said, rising from my seat. Turning to Muriel, I said, "You good with these bums?"
"Yeah," she said, smiling slightly at Snoddy. My instinct had been correct. I tossed her a dime.
"Enjoy your meal. See ya in a few days," I said, and without looking back, I walked out. I had only gone about three steps when Kid Blink appeared, out of breath, in front of me.
"Spot," he gasped, and I could tell he'd come running, wanting to talk to me. He's not as afraid of me as some of the others-at least not since the strike.
"Blink," I replied.
"You have Katja back? She's okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said belligerently, giving him a glare that made it clear that he was to stay away.
"She with you now?" Blink wasn't dumb, I'll give him that. He could see the possessive gleam in my eye, as I'd intended.
"What's it to you?" I asked. Blink put up his hands and backed up a step.
"Just wanted to make sure she's okay," he said, and I softened fractionally. I can understand someone caring about Katja-after all, I considered myself lucky she'd chosen to be with me.
"She's fine," I snapped. "She sends her regards to everyone." Blink nodded.
"Just don't hurt her," Blink said, and I could tell he was genuinely worried. I realized my reputation was a concern for him, and my whole demeanor changed. I could at least reassure him that she was more than just a conquest.
"I won't," I said vehemently and with feeling, knowing he would recognize that I was serious about her. "See ya around, Blink." I spun on my heel and headed back towards home without a single glance backward.