Murder on Mulberry Bend by Victoria Thompson

he was jealous of Richard Dennis. She pretended not to notice.
    “While I was there, she insisted that I take several other things as well. My mother has excellent taste, and my new clothes are so much more fashionable than the old ones, I decided I didn’t need them anymore.”
    “So you took them to this mission,” Malloy guessed. “The Prodigal Son? Isn’t that the one on Mulberry Street, down by Police Headquarters?”
    “Yes, do you know anything about it?”
    He shrugged, which either meant that he didn’t know anything or that he didn’t want to say. “So who did you give the clothes to at the mission?”
    She opened her mouth to say she’d given them to Mrs. Wells, when the real meaning of his question hit her. “The dead woman must be someone from the mission!”
    “Or at least they’ll know who they gave your clothes to,” he said.
    Sarah felt a sickness in the pit of her stomach. “Did you say the dead woman had blond hair?”
    He winced a little, reminding her that he’d thought the body was hers at first. “Yes. She had brown eyes. Younger than you, but about the same size.”
    Sarah groaned and closed her eyes.
    “Do you know who it is?” he asked.
    “I think... I’d have to see her, of course, but one of the girls at the mission fits that description. An Italian girl.”
    “This girl was blond,” he reminded her.
    “She must have been from Northern Italy. Her name was Emilia.”
    “Emilia what?”
    “I don’t know. They’ll know her at the mission, I suppose. If it really is her. They might have given the clothes to someone else,” she added hopefully. Maybe it would turn out to be someone she didn’t know at all.
    Malloy sighed again. “I’ll get someone from the mission to identify the body then.”
    Sarah remembered the girl she’d met who’d been so full of life and hope. She was learning to sew so she could make an honest living and overcome her unfortunate past.
    “I could identify her,” she offered. “If it is Emilia, that would save someone who really knew her from having to go.”
    “The city morgue isn’t a very pleasant place,” he warned her.
    “That’s why I’d like to save someone else from making the trip. I only met her once, so seeing her in a place like that won’t be as painful for me as it would for someone who cared about her.”
    Malloy didn’t want to take her there. She could see it in every line of his face.
    “I can go without you,” she reminded him.
    “And what if it isn’t her?”
    “Then we can go to the mission and tell them what happened. They’ll send someone to find out who it really is.”
    This was a perfectly logical plan, but Malloy didn’t like it at all. She wasn’t sure what part of it bothered him until he said, “I guess you won’t want me to go with you.”
    “Why not?” she asked without thinking. He didn’t reply, giving her a chance to figure it out for herself. “Oh,” she said after a moment. “Because you were so rude to me yesterday.”
    He didn’t confirm or deny it. He just sat there, stubborn as always.
    “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that,” she said. “Were you angry at me for being late?”
    His lips tightened. “I told you, you didn’t have to come. I didn’t really expect you’d come at all.”
    She suspected that wasn’t true, but she said, “Then you must be mad because I did come.”
    He sighed. “I’m not mad about anything.”
    She wanted to ask if he was jealous, but she decided that would be a waste of time. He’d deny it, and she’d look silly. She decided on another tactic. “Then are you going to explain why you were so rude to me?”
    He gave her one of the looks he reserved for uncooperative criminals. “I wasn’t being rude, Mrs. Brandt. I was just stating a fact.”
    His look didn’t bother her one bit. “Then I won’t expect an apology,” she retorted pleasantly.
    She thought he might be grinding his teeth. “Do you want me to go with you to the