In a Gilded Cage - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,17

anymore. Our lives are so different now. She has all the time in the world and I have none. Speaking of which, my precious half hour is rapidly disappearing. Come, Molly, we must away. If you’ll excuse us, Ned.”

“I’ll leave you ladies to your luncheon then,” he said, with a polite bow. “I have to get back to work,” he added loudly for Mr. McPherson’s benefit.

“Too right you do,” Mr. McPherson said, looking up from his table. “Does Mrs. Hartmann require any more of the stomach powders?”

“No, she said she didn’t need anything,” Emily said. “She said she was on the mend.”

“Well, let’s hope she’ll be back at work soon. You young slackers don’t know the meaning of work.”

I followed Emily out of the shop.

“So what did you think of Ned?” Emily asked. Her eyes were shining.

“He is very handsome,” I said.

“Isn’t he just? And so smart too. It was my lucky day when I answered that advertisement in McPherson’s window.”

I couldn’t help wondering what it was about Emily that had caught Ned’s eye. Maybe I had misjudged him and he was more impressed with her intellect than her looks. He had certainly given me a once-over all right.

“I usually just go to the café across the street,” Emily said. “They have a ten-cent daily special that is sometimes quite good. And I only have one gas ring in my room so it’s hard to cook at home.”

“Fine with me,” I said. “As long as it’s quiet enough to talk.”

We dodged the traffic and went inside a pleasant little tea room called the Black Cat. I could see why Emily came here. The other occupants were women and the tables had white cloths on them—overall an air of gentility. The waitress greeted Emily and two plates of the special were brought. It was some kind of meat pie and cabbage, mainly hot and filling but with little flavor. Maybe I had become used to good meals with Sid and Gus.

After we had satisfied our immediate hunger I took out my little notebook. “So I’m anxious to get started on your case,” I said. “Let us begin with your parents’ full names.”

“I believe they were William and Mary,” she said. “I think that’s what Aunt Lydia told me.”

“And where in China were you born?”

“I have no idea. In the interior, that’s all I know.”

“What about your birth certificate? Doesn’t that give all those details?”

“I have no birth certificate,” she said. “That’s the problem. As I understand it, a cholera epidemic was raging when I was born. My parents died when I was only a few days old and a devoted servant whisked me away to safety. I was deposited at the nearest mission and eventually brought back to America.”

“What a romantic story,” I said. “Tragic, of course, but the fact that you survived against all odds is amazing.”

She nodded. “I know, isn’t it?”

“So where did your parents come from?”

“Massachusetts, I believe. As I said, Aunt Lydia, who could have told me these things, died when I was too young to ask the right questions, and Uncle Horace showed no interest in me whatever.”

“Your parents were your aunt’s relatives, then?”

“I believe my mother and Aunt Lydia were second cousins, or second cousins once removed. Not close relatives, at any rate.”

“And what was your aunt’s maiden name?”

“I’m afraid I don’t even know that.”

“That should be easy enough to discover. She died when you were five. There will be a death certificate.”

“Of course.”

“So I could go to her birthplace and check for other relatives.”

“I understood that there were none. They took me in because they were my only surviving kin. At least that’s what Uncle Horace said once.” She saw my look and gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry. I knew this was not going to be easy.”

“I love a good challenge,” I said. “And it can’t be that hard. After all, how many missionaries could there be in China at one time? Maybe twenty or thirty at the most. I know,” I perked up as a bright idea hit me, “we could start with that couple who came into your shop. You said they didn’t know your parents, but you also mentioned that they had been in China for twenty years. I presume you are older than twenty—”

“Yes, I’m twenty-five.”

“So it’s quite possible that they didn’t arrive until after your parents had died.”

“That’s quite possible,” Emily bucked up at this.

“At any rate, they could give us details of the various denominations of