“He’s a keeper, Eloise,” said her friend.

Pin found the stairway to the men’s quarters and went up to the third floor. The hallway was very plain, with white walls and windows that overlooked the street. Each wooden door had small brass numbers on it. A print of Jesus with a crown of thorns hung at one end of the hall, a crucifix at the other.

She walked along, counting each door until she reached number 32. She didn’t know what she would do if he wasn’t there. She barely knew what she would do if he was. She knocked quickly and loudly, before she could change her mind.

The door cracked open. One pale blue eye stared out at her from a sunburned sliver of a face.

“It’s Pin,” she said.

The door closed and she heard rustling. For an endless moment she thought he wouldn’t return. Then the door opened just enough for her to step inside, a hand waving at her frantically.

“Get in.”

She entered cautiously. Henry poked his head out into the hall, closed the door, and locked it.

What was he so worked up about? When she looked around, she saw nothing but a small room as plain as the hallway. A bed covered with a brown blanket; a deal desk, chair, and night table; a single closet. The only window faced an air shaft. Above the bed, yet another crucifix.

“Why are you here?”

She turned to see Henry watching her from the corner of his eye, like a cornered dog.

“I need you to help me.”

“You ran away. Why did you run away?”

“From the barn? I was scared.”

“Why were you scared? You missed the initiation! There were many Gemini there. General Jack Evans came! Willhie’s sister was so alarmed. That you ran off. It gave her a start. Her heart.” He looked accusingly at Pin, then said in a softer tone, “I said I was sorry. The secret note—did you find it?”

She nodded, set down the paper bag, dug through her pockets for the crumpled flyer, and handed it to Henry. “There’s a reward for whoever finds the killer. A thousand dollars.”

“I already knew that.”

“Well, I know who it is. I have a plan to capture him.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not.” She took out the photograph of the doll. “Here’s proof. Be careful!”

Henry took the photo, frowning. “What is this?”

“It’s a doll. She’s wearing the dead girl’s clothes. Maria Walewski, the girl who went into Hell Gate.”

Henry scrutinized the photo for a long time. “You’re right,” he said slowly. “It is a doll.”

“It’s also her clothes.”

He continued to gaze at the picture, finally nodded. “The yellow dress. She was the one with the yellow dress. Can I…have this?”

“No, damn it! Give it to me!”