has still not yet left the building and that the police claim he is not inside, everything here appears to be normal."
Auntie Lil sighed and her face sagged. It was time to break the bad news to him.
"You have found out the whereabouts of Miss Eva," Herbert Wong said sadly as he searched her face. Herbert often communicated on a deeper, unsaid level.
"Yes. It was her."
Herbert's face fell in dignified sadness. "I do not believe that it could be thought of as your fault," he said quietly. "I hope you are not blaming yourself."
"Well, of course I am." Auntie Lil stared dejectedly at Emily's building. "If not for me, they wouldn't have been parading around the streets. In fact, it might be because of me specifically that she was killed."
"You must explain," he said gently, guiding her to his chair.
"The police, or at least Detective Santos, think it likely that the killer was after me. We are very alike in physical characteristics, except for our hair."
"Perhaps." Herbert allowed a tiny shrug, as if humoring the police. "However, perhaps not. She may have brought it upon herself through her own actions."
"Maybe." Auntie Lil felt silent.
"And you cannot bring yourself to inform the other ladies at St. Barnabas?"
"Correct. You may call me a coward, if you wish."
"You are a brave and honest woman, Lillian," he replied. "But this is not a task that you should handle. I shall tell the ladies the bad news myself. We are due to assemble in a few hours. Instead of the usual warning, I shall tell them of Eva's death." He paused briefly. "I will also tell them that they must not pretend anymore. That they must stay at home where it is safe and leave the rest of the investigation up to the police." He stared steadily at Auntie Lil and she did not respond. It was one of the few times he had ever tried to impose his will on her and she sensed that arguing with him would not be a wise course to choose. Besides, he was right.
It still hurt to admit it. "You're right," she finally said, rising with a sigh, telling him of the dire warnings she had received from Detective Santos and Lieutenant Abromowitz. "It is too dangerous. We must give up the game."
"Regrettably," Herbert added.
"And so it must be done." She managed a small wave and continued her trek to the church, passing a familiar old man in another lawn chair at the far end of the block. His nose was as bulbous as a cauliflower; his clothes were as drab and tan as the building behind him. He recognized Auntie Lil, but she was too preoccupied to notice that her progress up Eighth Avenue was being carefully observed.
It was back to the soup kitchen, she thought glumly, back to being nothing more than a bored old lady whose mind was sharper than her body and who harbored illusions that she could, with all her frailties, be the one capable of bringing justice to the mean streets of Hell's Kitchen.
Stop whining, she commanded herself suddenly. There was still an ace card she could play. She stopped at three pay phones until she found one that worked, then dialed Margo McGregor's number. The columnist still was not in and the busy reporter who answered took her latest message with bored efficiency.
Auntie Lil hung up glumly. She had to get through to Margo McGregor for help. Because her only hope now was publicity. Maybe then, public pressure would force Lieutenant Abromowitz to put more men on the job.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As soon as she saw the long line still snaking down the sidewalk toward St. Barnabas, she realized that they were in deep trouble and hurried inside. Nearly everyone should have been fed by now.
To her surprise, Bob Fleming had kept his word. Despite his own miseries, he was there behind the counter handing plates of hot food across to hungry patrons. Father Stebbins was back at work beside him, looking uncharacteristically subdued. Annie O'Day was sweating over one of the big industrial stoves in back, while the remaining volunteers fought valiantly to maintain order.
She saw at once where the confusion began. Auntie Lil appointed herself guardian of the silverware and napkins, then began to hand out trays. The logjam in the line cleared quickly and the flow of hungry people picked up their pace.
Thank God Adelle and her followers had already been through the line. Auntie Lil did not think that