Why Are You Weeping, Sister?

Chapter 5

Mary Kathleen was shaken awake shortly after dark. "Lady, get up. The zoo's closing. Time to go."

She jumped up, utterly disoriented. She got on this train around two in the afternoon, and now it had to be after seven. And where was Miss Gwendolyn?

A park policeman stood in front of the Moorish Station, twirling his nightstick. Mary Kathleen made a beeline for him. "Officer, she's gone! I don't know what I'm going to do. Can you help me?"

Dylan Dunleavy grasped the leather thong on his truncheon to stop the spin, ran his index finger under his waxed mustache. "And who exactly is gone?"

"Miss Graham. I was supposed to be their chaperone. I guess I fell asleep. When I woke up they were gone."

"They?"

She nodded and swallowed. "Miss Graham and her gentleman caller."

"Oh, surely, Miss, they just took advantage of your inattention to slip away for a few stolen moments. No great cause for alarm."

Mary Kathleen shook her head so hard the officer swore her brains were rattling. "No no no! Miss Graham, she has a beau. Back where they used to live. He writes to her, just her ma don't know. They're gonna get married as soon as she's old enough."

Now it was coming together for the young officer. "And just what is her beau's name?"

"Jonathan...Jonathan... Mills? No Miller. Jonathan Miller."

"And what was the name of the man at the zoo today?"

"I'm not sure. Norman something. He's supposed to be some kin to the Linderman family in Mount Vernon."

Dunleavy stepped in close to her, trying to affect an air of confidentiality. "Do you think the young lady may have arranged to run off with this Mills, and used Norman as a go-between?" It made sense, at least to the young copper.

More head shaking. "No. She wrote to him just this morning, and told him she didn't have a choice but to walk out with Norman."

"And how would you be knowing that?" He swore she knew more than she was telling.

"I saw what she wrote. At least that line, before she sealed it. I ran down to the corner to drop it in the post box. If she planned to meet him, she wouldn't have written.

Dunleavy sighed. Usually, his duties as City Park Police Officer involved tossing out drunken college boys, telling young couples to not get frisky on the sheep meadow where everyone could see, and finding the occasional lost kid. He wanted more than anything to get on the City Police, but the new chief was refusing to hire any more Irish coppers. His first real police matter, and it's some run away rich girl. "And you say her mother doesn't know she's carrying on a correspondence with this Miller?"

"That's right. But she loves him."

"So why did she agree to spend the day with this Norman?"

"I'm not sure." She was shaking her head again. "But I think he may have threatened her somehow."

"Does your employer have a telephone? Perhaps your Miss Graham is already home."

Dylan was getting downright dizzy watching this girl shake her head. "No, she'd never leave me sitting on the train. Never. She's not like that."

"All righty then. Let's go into the station here. I need to call in, and we'll get you home."

At the rear of the soda fountain, Officer Dunleavy went first to the call box. He used his key to open the filigreed iron box, picked up the earpiece and checked in. "Sarge, Dunleavy, post 27. Remember that bulletin the chief sent around last week? Well, we got one. I'm gonna need to call Sergeant Dods, at Western District...Sure...Thanks, Sarge."