Free The Innocent by Evelyn Piper Page A

believing that the papers were in Claire’s house, where Claire might find them. She must have felt they were a sword over her head. She must have wanted to come back and get the papers which she had hidden in the closet, but she hadn’t dared face Claire. Last night, however, something had happened which made the girl willing to take the chance. What did “Eddie done a terrible thing” mean? What did it mean that “they were coming for her”?
    It was out of the question to do a lick of work around the place. This is my apartment, Marjorie thought. I am Mrs. Charles Carter. I am Charles Carter’s wife and I live with him in our apartment. She glanced around the room, knowing that she had never felt it hers before, that she had felt guilty of living here. Guilty of living, she amended, guilty of being alive. Marjorie did attempt to dust and tidy the living room but couldn’t settle to it. She sat in a chair near the baby’s basket with one of Charles’ socks stretched on a darning egg, but she was too excited to weave the thread up and under, up and under. She tapped the darning egg against her flushed cheek and waited for Edna’s sister.

It bothered Marjorie that this girl, this sister of Edna who had been so abominably treated here, should automatically go to the back door. Marjorie really wanted Grace to march in the front door and demand justice, but Edna’s sister had barely sufficient courage to creep in the back way. Because of Claire’s description, Marjorie expected someone beautiful, but Grace was a skinny, mat-brown girl of about seventeen or eighteen, very young, anyway, and very frightened. When Marjorie waved her into the kitchen, she took two steps forward and halted. As if she had been forbidden to look Marjorie in the eye, she limited her vision to her own feet. “Please sit down, Grace. I’ll get the uniforms in a few minutes.” Grace obediently sat on the edge of the kitchen chair. “Tell me about your sister. What happened to her?”
    Grace spoke to her feet. “Eddie ain’t been right since Andrew—”
    The husband. “Since Andrew—” Marjorie prompted. Since Andrew died?
    â€œSince Andrew, she doan eat. She doan sleep. She walk around the room all day and when I wake nights she still walking. Since Andrew—”
    Marjorie closed her eyes. “Is he dead? Is Andrew dead, Grace?”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    She would hire a lawyer for Edna. They would produce the papers in court. “Gentlemen of the jury, I will not deny that the defendant did this murder, but I will attempt to prove that she was forced to do it.…” “Have you come here for the papers, Grace?”
    â€œMa’am?”
    â€œThe papers, Grace.” Marjorie pointed to the closet door.
    â€œI doan know about no papers, just Eddie’s uniforms.”
    â€œJust the uniforms? Please don’t look so frightened, Grace. Please trust me, won’t you?” She sat on the table facing the girl, smiling at her, trying to win her confidence. “Tell me about Andrew’s death, Grace all you know.”
    â€œThey found Andrew in Newark.”
    â€œIn Newark?” No, in Harlem! In that room in Harlem. Dead drunk. Drunk dead.
    â€œYes, ma’am, He went away and Eddie, she went wild, and they they found Andrew in Newark.”
    â€œAnd then?”
    â€œThen they made Eddie go see him and she was so bad, saying all the time she did it.”
    â€œSaying she killed Andrew?”
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    Could she ask Grace whether it was true? “Andrew was found dead in Newark?” She couldn’t bring herself to ask.
    â€œYes, ma’am. They found Andrew in Newark.” She pressed her dark fingers together, and drew them across her throat to indicate how they had found Andrew in Newark. It was a gesture terrible in its simplicity.
    â€œOh!” Marjorie said. She