Free Murder in Morningside Heights (A Gaslight Mystery) by Victoria Thompson Page A

students—they never seen nothing like it either, I guess. They had more fun talking than I ever seen people have when they was at a party. Queerest thing you ever saw.”
    Gino was pretty sure she was right. “So Miss Northrup had already spent a lot of time here.”
    “She come real regular. Not like the other girls. They’d usually come for a year or maybe two, but she come for four years straight. It was plain to see she was up to no good.”
    “Why? What was she doing?”
    Bathsheba pinned another garment to the line. “Wasn’t what she was doing, exactly. It was how she was with Miss Wilson. It was like . . . I don’t know how to describe it.”
    “Try.”
    Bathsheba cast him a dark look. “The teachers at the school, they have pet students.”
    “Pet students?”
    “That’s what they call them. Favorites, like.”
    Ah, Gino knew all about that. He’d seen it in his own school experience. The smart students who were well behaved and wore nice clothes. He’d never been a favorite. “I guess it’s only natural for them to like some of their students more than others.”
    “I don’t know nothing about that, but I do know theyhave different favorites every year. New girls come and the others move on. But Miss Northrup didn’t move on. She just kept being Miss Wilson’s favorite, and Miss Northrup made sure of it.”
    “How did she do that?”
    “Oh, she was a clever one. She didn’t do what you’d expect. You’d expect her to always agree with Miss Wilson and pay her compliments and such. Instead, she’d argue with her, like she didn’t agree, and then she’d pretend Miss Wilson had convinced her and change her mind. Not every time, but often enough, you understand. Made Miss Wilson feel so important and smart. Made me feel sick.”
    “And what about Miss Billingsly?”
    “I never knew if she saw through the girl or not, but she did know that Miss Wilson didn’t argue with her no more. She only was interested in what Miss Northrup had to say about something. I was so glad when they said she was graduating. I figured we’d seen the last of her, but then I hear she’s got hired by the college and she’s coming to live here.” She shook her head at such an unfortunate event.
    “I guess Miss Billingsly wasn’t too happy about that.”
    Bathsheba whirled to face him. “Don’t you go thinking she killed that girl because she was jealous. She’d never do no such thing. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, that one.”
    Gino nodded obediently, although he wasn’t going to clear Miss Billingsly of suspicion just because her maid vouched for her. “But it must’ve been awkward when Miss Northrup moved in.”
    “Oh, it was. She’d just gotten home from France.” Bathsheba said the word
France
as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. “She kept saying things in that Frenchy talk, like she expected people to understand her.”
    “And nobody did?”
    “Miss Wilson did. She said she learned it in school, but Miss Northrup could talk it a lot better than she could. Miss Northrup said her accent wasn’t right, and she’d learned to talk it right when she was in France, so they’d practice together, but . . .”
    “But what?”
    Bathsheba pulled the last article of clothing from the basket and pinned it with angry jabs. “Let’s go inside.”
    She marched off, leaving the basket for Gino, who happily grabbed it and followed her back into the kitchen. By the time he got there, she’d removed her coat and started draining the washtub. The water on the stove had begun to boil, so she told him to pour it into the tub. Then she shaved some slivers of soap into it and stirred the whole thing with her stick until she was satisfied. Then she dropped in a bunch of bedsheets.
    Before she could start turning the crank to agitate the load, he said, “Let me do that,” and gently moved her out of the way. She sank down wearily into one of the kitchen chairs and watched him work.
    She’d been silent