She turned and started to walk toward the front of the church again. Behind her, she heard the chillingly familiar rasp of a hat pin being pulled from a hat and then the patter of running feet coming up behind her, and in that instant, she understood everything.
Sarah threw herself into the nearest pew as Mrs. Wells dove for her. The woman stumbled, her momentum carrying her forward when she missed Sarah, so that she fell headlong to the floor.
Catching herself on the back of a pew, Sarah kept her feet and started for the opposite aisle as quickly as she could. The space between the benches was too narrow for real speed and her skirts kept trying to tangle with her feet, but she lurched on, knowing her attacker would be hindered the same way if she tried to follow.
She should scream. Someone would come if she screamed, but she didn’t have the breath to do it. She’d have to concentrate on getting away instead.
She heard Mrs. Wells scrambling to her feet. Sarah risked a backward glance. The woman’s hat was askew, and she held the hat pin like a knife, ready to plunge it into flesh. For a second Sarah thought the other woman was going to come after her, but then she turned and started running back down the aisle, toward the rear of the church. That’s when Sarah realized she was planning to cut her off before she could reach the door and make her escape.
Sarah’s only chance was to beat her there. Terror propelled her out from between the pews and into the opposite aisle. Lifting her skirts with both hands, she raced toward the rear of the church. Watching her adversary out of the corner of her eye, she saw that she stood a good chance. If she didn’t fall, if she didn’t stumble, if she didn’t slip ...
Her breath gasping, she reached the last pew, and she saw that she was going to make it. She was closer to the door, and she would escape into the street and then she would —
“No!”
a shrill voice cried, and Sarah saw a tiny wraith streak from shadows near the doors straight for Mrs. Wells, who was running toward Sarah. The woman caught herself just in time to keep from sprawling over the tiny figure, who grabbed her around the legs as she had done to Sarah only a short time ago.
“Aggie, run!” Sarah cried, freezing in her tracks, but she was too late. The child cried out in pain as Mrs. Wells clutched a handful of her hair and held her fast with one hand while she raised the hat pin threateningly with the other. She looked up at Sarah in triumph. “Don’t hurt her!” Sarah pleaded desperately.
“Why not?” Mrs. Wells asked, her voice icily calm. “She’d be better off, just like the rest of them. She’d be in heaven.”
Oh, dear God!
Sarah had to think, to plan. She had to figure out how to save Aggie, so she had to keep Mrs. Wells talking until she thought of something. “Why?” she asked, her voice hoarse with terror. “Why did you do it?”
“I had to save them,” she said, as if that made perfect sense. “Before the devil got them again.” Aggie was whimpering softly, but thank heaven, she wasn’t struggling.
“Were there others, before Emilia?” Sarah asked in an effort to distract her.
“Oh, yes. Once I realized how many of them would weaken and fall away, I knew I had to do something to save them.”
Sarah’s heart was pounding, and she felt the gorge rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down. “Please, let Aggie go.”
Mrs. Wells considered the request. “All right,” she said, and for a second Sarah’s heart leaped with hope. “But
you
must stay.”
“My life for hers, is that it?” Sarah asked unsteadily.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Brandt, but I can’t allow you to interfere. My work is too important. Those girls will go to hell unless I save them. I can’t let anything stop me.”
The woman wasn’t thinking clearly at all, Sarah realized. She was bound to come under suspicion. But Sarah didn’t think there was any chance of reasoning with her. She could never recall being so frightened. She could barely breathe, but she had to be strong for Aggie. The child kept trying to turn her little head to look at Sarah, but Mrs. Wells held her too tightly, the hat pin poised to strike if Sarah made a false move.
“It will be over quickly,” Mrs. Wells promised. “You won’t suffer.”
Drawing a deep breath, Sarah somehow managed to keep her voice steady. “All right, Mrs. Wells. But you must let Aggie go.”
“Not until ... it’s over,” she said quite firmly. “I’m afraid I don’t trust you to keep your part of the bargain if I release her. And she’ll never be able to tell what happened, so it doesn’t matter if she knows or not.”
Sarah thought she heard something outside, but she was afraid to call for help. Mrs. Wells might panic and stab Aggie. She’d have to rely on her own wits and strength to save them both. She took a step toward the madwoman, and then another. Aggie was sobbing now. Another step, measuring, trying to decide how she could grab the hand that held the pin before —
“Sarah!”
The church doors slammed open, and Sarah instinctively looked to see Richard Dennis charging through them.
“She’s got Aggie!” she cried and lunged for the other woman.
All Sarah could see was the hand holding the hat pin raised over Aggie’s tiny neck. If she could grab it and stop it —
But Richard got there first. He snatched Aggie away just as the hat pin plunged downward. Someone else was calling Sarah’s name, but she didn’t have time to even look up. She was too busy wrestling Mrs. Wells, both of her hands wrapped around the fist that still clutched the hat pin.
Then suddenly someone was helping, overpowering Mrs. Wells and wrenching the hat pin from her fingers. A rough arm pushed Sarah away, and she recognized Malloy. He thrust the hat pin into Sarah’s hand and shoved Mrs. Wells to her knees, twisting one of her arms behind her back. She cried out in pain, but Malloy didn’t release his grip.
“What’s going on here!” an outraged voice shouted. “Get out of here or I’ll call the police!” Father Ahearn was running down the aisle toward them. He wore only an undershirt and trousers and looked very unpriestly.
“I
am
the police,” Malloy shouted back. “This woman is a murderer, and she’s very dangerous. Get me something to tie her up.”
The startled priest stared at the tableau for only a moment before hurrying to obey.
Malloy turned to Sarah. “What the hell were you trying to do?” he demanded, but he didn’t wait for an answer. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Take that other pin away from her!” she added, suddenly horrified to realize Mrs. Wells had another one still in her hat.
Malloy relieved the woman of that one, too, and handed it to Sarah as well. Mrs. Wells’s hat slipped off and fell to the floor in front of her. Malloy continued to hold her firmly and painfully in place.
“Can you help me here?” Richard asked, his voice oddly strained.
Sarah hurried to his aid. He lay on the floor where he had fallen in the scuffle, and he held a terrified Aggie to his chest. Still clutching the hat pins in her left hand, Sarah reached out her right one and Aggie grabbed it. Scrambling out of Richard’s arms, the child threw herself at Sarah and fairly climbed up her body until her little arms were wrapped tightly around Sarah’s neck and her legs around Sarah’s waist. Sarah managed to stagger over to one of the pews and sit down, setting the hat pins on the seat beside her so she could hold the child with both arms. Her little body was trembling, and Sarah crooned meaningless words of comfort into the soft cloud of her hair.
Father Ahearn came running back with what appeared to be drapery cords. Malloy looked at them askance, but he used them to bind Mrs. Wells’s hands securely behind her back. Then he hauled her roughly to her feet and shoved her down into the nearest pew.
Richard was a bit slow getting to his feet.
“Richard, are you all right?” Sarah asked in alarm when she noticed, remembering how Mrs. Wells had been wielding the hat pin.
But Richard wasn’t listening. He was staring in horror at Mrs. Wells. “You killed Hazel, didn’t you?”
Sarah gasped as Mrs. Wells looked up, her eyes bright with the fires of fanaticism. “She was very unhappy here, Mr. Dennis. I sent her to heaven.”
Father Ahearn caught Richard when he would have attacked her and held him back.
“Let the law take care of her, Dennis,” Malloy warned him. “She’ll die for her crimes. There’s nothing worse you can do to her.”
Richard was shaking with fury, but after a moment, he allowed the priest to push him back a few steps.
“Father,” Malloy said, “can you go to the nearest call box and have them send a wagon over for this woman?”
Father Ahearn nodded, probably only too glad to escape the nightmarish scene. Portly Father O’Brien came lumbering down the aisle, wheezing from the effort of running, just as Father Ahearn bolted away to do Malloy’s bidding. He’d taken the time to put on his cassock, so he looked more professional than his young colleague. He recognized Mrs. Wells at once. “What are
you
doing here?” he demanded breathlessly.
“Trying to cause you some trouble, I expect, Father,” Malloy said. “She’s the one who killed Emilia Donato, and she just tried to kill Mrs. Brandt right here in the church.”
Father O’Brien’s gaze shifted back to where Mrs. Wells sat, bound and helpless. He stared at her as if the jaws of hell had suddenly opened up to reveal their horrors. “I
knew
something was wrong at that place,” he murmured, and Sarah remembered his accusation about other missing girls. She didn’t even want to think about how many others the woman had “sent to heaven.” She hugged Aggie more tightly and was relieved to realize the child had stopped trembling.
Richard still glared at Mrs. Wells, but he seemed calmer now. Then Sarah noticed he was rubbing his chest.
“Richard, you
are
hurt!” she cried. “Did she stab you?”
“Just a little jab,” he said. “It’s not even bleeding.”
Only a tiny drop of blood had stained his shirt beneath his vest, but Sarah remembered how Emilia’s wound hadn’t bled either. “Are you sure? How deep did the pin go in?”
“Not deep at all. I told you, it was just a jab.”
Sarah knew even a shallow jab could become infected, and there was always a danger of lockjaw. He did seem pale, and he was sweating. “You should sit down. You look as if you’re going to faint.”
He took a seat in the pew in front of hers and half turned to face her. He was grinning boyishly, as if he’d done something a bit naughty and was proud of it. “I did do a bit of running to get here.” He looked over at Malloy, who was still guarding Mrs. Wells. “In the end, I beat you here,” he bragged.
Malloy frowned, but he didn’t deny it. Then Sarah realized how amazing it was that they were here at all.
“How did you know I’d be in danger? And what are the two of you doing here together?” she demanded.
“I was on my way to your house, and we ran into each other,” Malloy said unhelpfully.
Sarah turned to Richard expectantly.
“I’d just found your note and was reading it when Mr. Malloy arrived.” His smile faded. “We started discussing that girl’s murder, and I remembered something you’d said about how she looked after she died.”
“You mean Emilia?” Sarah asked, still confused.
“Yes, you said she looked as if she’d suffocated. I asked Mr. Malloy to describe it and then I realized — that’s the way Hazel looked. Mrs. Wells had come to visit her that last day, and when she left, we found Hazel gasping for breath. She died a short time later.”
His gaze drifted to Mrs. Wells, who sat staring back at him, unrepentant.
“She went to heaven, Mr. Dennis,” Mrs. Wells said. “That was her wish.”
Richard looked as if he would have cheerfully broken her neck, but he managed to restrain himself.
“She’ll be punished now,” Sarah said, reaching up to pat his shoulder reassuringly. “And nothing you do to her can bring Hazel back.”
He continued to glare at the woman, rubbing his chest absently.
Father Ahearn came running back into the church and reported that a police wagon was on its way and that a carriage had pulled up outside.
“A carriage?” Sarah echoed in amazement, looking at Richard for an explanation.
“We took my carriage from your house to the mission. Mr. Malloy was expecting to find Mrs. Wells there and accuse her of the murders. When she wasn’t there ... Well, that’s when we realized she was the one who had sent you the note to lure you here. Mr. Malloy said it would be faster to go on foot, so we left Sydney to follow as best he could. It looks as if he found us,” he added to Malloy.
Father O’Brien turned to Malloy. “Can someone tell me what happened here?”
Malloy looked at Sarah. “I received a note from Father Ahearn this evening,” she began, but Ahearn interrupted her.
“I didn’t send you a note!”
“I know that now,” Sarah said. “Mrs. Wells sent it and claimed it had come from you. It said you had discovered who the killer was and asked me to come to the church as soon as possible.”
“But you went to the mission first,” Richard said.
“Gina, one of the girls there, had brought the message. I had to see her safely home and tell Mrs. Wells the good news,” Sarah added bitterly.
Mrs. Wells refused to meet her gaze, but Malloy said, “So that’s how she knew exactly when you’d be at the church. Then she followed you over here.”
“And Aggie must have followed
her,”
Sarah said, looking down at the child, who had gone very still. Sarah realized with amazement she was asleep. “I can’t imagine why. Look at her! She’s in her nightdress and barefoot.”
“She was trying to save you,” Mrs. Wells informed her, although it gave her no pleasure. “She’s a clever girl, and she understands more than you’d ever imagine.”
“She understood that I was in danger, I guess,” Sarah continued, “and she tried to stop Mrs. Wells from stabbing me with the hat pin. Mrs. Wells grabbed her and threatened to kill her if I didn’t allow her to kill me instead.”