Two Weeks Later, February 17th, 1900
I'm walking home with Albert from selling, about two weeks after we found and reported the man in the alley. Race doesn't know what we saw, and the police haven't contacted us. Well, that's what I thought until we arrive at the lodging house, where three police officers are waiting outside.
"Albert and Y/n?" The officers ask, and I nod, confirming that that's us. "We need more info, so just come wit' us to the station."
Albert and I exchange a glace of worry before we begin following them. Once we arrive, a man walks up to me and hands me a slip of paper and a pencil.
"Write down what he looked like from what you saw," the man says, being very blunt, which scares me. I nod and grab the pencil, freaking out momentarily, because I don't ever write. I have to think back to how my mom taught me how to write, which was only once every month.
"-durty blond hare
-broun ies
-vary tall
-ponitale"
I hand over the best description I can remember, and he reads it over, clearly getting a bit stumbled by my spelling, which I know is bad.
"Thanks, miss, but this is useless. I guess this is another case going down the drain," the man says before crumbling up the paper.
"Wha- You said for me to give you a description of something I saw two weeks ago, I gave you the best I have. And what do you mean, 'Down the drain'? Can you guys not solve a murder case?" I ask, slightly angry that I had to write that down for nothing. The officer shakes his head.
"Listen, solving murders isn't as easy as it sounds. I mean, we can't just ask for every man with dirty blond hair, brown eyes, and who's tall in New York to come down to the station. And as a gal, you don't got nothing to worry about," the officer says, pulling out a cigar and lighting it.
"But there is a murderer on the damn streets! You can at least try and not just throw the pape away!" I yell, letting my New York roots shine through.
"Kid, if you wanna use that kind of language, then get out. If you got something that we can actually use, then hand if over. But if you don't, then get out," he says, taking a drag from his cigar.
I groan in annoyance before standing up and heading back to Albert, who seems shocked at my anger.
"What happened in dere, Sweethaht?" Albert says, using a cute nickname to try and calm me down.
"They're giving up on the case because they don't have enough evidence," I say. He pats my shoulder and gives me a caring smile.
"Hey, there's nothin' we can do. Besides, it ain't somethin' dat us newsies can do anythin' 'bout, so if da bulls can't solve it, then that's it," Albert says, attempting to calm me. This just makes me angrier.
"Yeah, but they didn't even try! He looked at my report and just threw it away," I grumble.
There's an awkward silence, with Albert wanting to explain that we can't do anything, and me knowing that the police haven't done anything.
"Let's jus' head home, 'kay?" Albert asks, being the bigger person and ending the argument early. I nod and we both stand up and head out.
But the entire walk home, my anger brews inside me. And once we get back to the Lodging house, I immediately go to my bunk to grab my sketch pad and my pencil. I begin to draw random doodles, because that's how I like to calm down.
Every other newsie knows that when I'm drawing, that they shouldn't mess with me, because I will break down and cry.
The sound of someone walking up to me scares me, but when I look up to see Davey, I calm down a bit.
"Hey, Y/n, you alright?" Davey asks, clearly not remembering that I don't like people around when I draw. But instead of crying, I just nod and smile. He sits down next to me and looks at what I drew. "Wow, ya amazin'! Do you think you can draw me?"
I shrug, not being used to drawing people. But I decide, why not?
I flip to a different page, where I stop using darker strokes and more delicate and softer ones. And after what feels like an hour, I finish the drawing.
(Ignore the modern outfit, I drew this before I even thought of this story)
"Done," I say, feeling proud of the drawing I've created. I turn it around to show Davey, and his eyes go wide.
"Oh my god, that's me. That's actually me. How the hell are you so good at drawin'? I mean, you're probably even bettah than Jack," Davey says, making me laugh.
"Well, Jack's better with painting and landscapes. I'm better at drawing people, and things I see," I say, mocking Jack for always drawing the place he's never seen before.
"Dang! You could end up takin' Jack's job woikin' as a cartoon ahtist," Romeo says, trying to cheer me up. I smile to myself, feeling my insides feel warm from all the compliments. I look back down at the drawing and hand it to Davey.
"Here, it's all yours," I say. Before he can protest, I cut him off. "No arguing. I don't have anything to do with it, it's yours and I made it for you." He freezes for a moment before folding it into his pocket. I smile and stand up. "I'm gonna head out for a bit, so don't tell Race I'm gone."
The boys nod their heads. Race is in the showers right now, so I have about 3 minutes before he gets out to leave.
So I grab my sketchbook and pencil and head out of the building. Once I'm outside, I feel my lungs expand. It's hard to live in a house filled with boys that sweat, and stink constantly.
I begin walking down the street, which has very few people today. While passing by many beautiful buildings and statues, which I draw initial sketches, totally prepared to not finish them later.
I take a seat on a nearby bench and begin shading in my drawing of Horace Greeley, when out of the corner of my eye, I see a person that makes my heart stop, sitting across the street on a bench. The man who walked out of the alley.
I quickly flip to a different page in my sketchbook and begin drawing his face, which I can now see from the front. He has a short beard, a soft jaw, and a long nose that comes to a point. When I'm almost done drawing, two hands come down on my shoulders, making me scream.
Ready to defend myself, I punch the person behind me in the face. But when I turn around, instead of being met with some stranger, I see Albert clutching his cheek and doubled over in pain.
"Oh my god, Al, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" I yell, ignoring all the eyes of strangers on me. After a second, Albert stands straight and smiles goofily with his hand still cupped on his cheek.
"It's a'ight. Didn't mean tah scare ya back theah," Albert says with a chuckle. I smile and laugh a bit too.
"It's fine. But wait- why are you here?" I ask, curious as to why the one and only Albert DaSilva would be here with me after I left.
"I got bored 'nd knew you'd be somewheah 'round 'ere," Albert says with a shrug before looking down at the drawing I made. "Who's dat?" I freeze up as he looks past me and at the man across the street, realizing that I was drawing that man. "Gee, Y/n/n, I think that drawin' someone like dat's kinda creepy."
Feeling myself begin to sweat, I whisper to Albert, "That's the guy who walked out of the alley two weeks ago." Albert's posture straightens, as he realizes that the man is a murderer.
"Y/n/n, we gotta show da bulls," Albert says. I furrow my eyebrows and shake my head.
"What are they gonna do, look at the picture and throw it away? We gotta get more evidence, like an address or workplace," I say, trying to think of anything I can for the police. Albert begins to think for a minute before looking at me and nodding.
"You'se right, and I'se got a plan," Albert says. I nod as a way to explain his plan. "You'se gonna follow him if he leaves, but only from a distance. And I'se'll go get the bulls tah tell them where you is. If he ends up movin', I'll shout fah yis, mainly you, and once you hear me close enough, yell fah me. I'll come runnin' ovah and the cops'll arrest 'im."
I feel my body freeze from shock at his idea.
"Wait, you want me to follow a murderer? What happens if he notices me and tries to kill me? Or if he asks why I'm following him?" I ask, whispering as to not let the man hear me.
"Hey, if he does eitha of those, say dat you'se goin' home, and ya home is in the same direction that he's headed. Besides, it's sundown. He ain't gonna think twice 'bout a goil who's walking just a couple hundred feet behind 'im. Now is this a plan?" Albert whispers. I think it over for a second before nodding. "Good."
"Wait, take the drawing. If you give it to the police, they'll know who needs to be arrested," I say, shoving the piece of paper to him. He nods and casually walks off.
I count the second, waiting for Albert to get here even though it's only been a minute. The man across the street begins to stand up, causing a rush of anxiety to run through my body. He begins walking in the opposite direction of where Albert went, and after he's about 100 ft away, I start walking behind him.
We walk for what feels like an hour, when in reality is probably ten minutes when I hear Albert calling for my name. It's very quiet and I can tell that he's too far away for me to call for him without drawing too much attention.
But the man I'm following looks over his shoulder and we make eye contact. I try my best to break away from my fear and flash him a smile, which probably looks more awkward than anything.
his eyes snap back to the pavement and he suddenly turns to a different street. I continue walking and prepare to turn the same corner, but once I do, I'm pushed against the side of a building with his hands on my throat.
"Hey, kid, why were ya followin' me?" The man asks, his voice being very gruff and deep. I feel tears sting my nose. And even though his hands aren't tight enough on my neck to cause me to die, it's still hard for me to breathe.
"I- I was just heading home! This is the way I usually walk!" I say, trying to sound convincing and scared enough for him to believe, which shouldn't be too hard as I'm already petrified.
"Then why did ya get up almost the exact same time I did?" He asks, I try to think of something on the fly.
"I lost track of time, and when I saw you get up, I remembered that I should be heading home. I wasn't following you, I swear to god," I say. Luckily, god never gave me any reason to love him, so swearing to god means nothing to me.
"I think that you'se a dirty liah," the man says as his grip on my neck tightens, making it harder for me to breathe. The sound of Albert's voice is closer than ever, causing both of us to freeze up. "Is that ya friend?"
"Mhm. He usually walks me home, but I left early, so it's probably scaring him," I lie, feeling slightly proud of my improvisation. I can almost see the gears turning in his head.
In a single moment of thought from him, his hands loosen their grip. I take that moment to kick him in the gut, causing him to let go.
"Al! Help!" I yell. The man gets back up and glares down at me, clearly ready to hurt me. But the sound of dozens of feet marching on pavement makes him stop.
Once the police turn the corner, his hands are in the air, as in a way of admitting defeat. The police run over and hold his hands behind his back, keeping him from moving as they begin to ask him questions. One officer, who looks to be the one with most authority, walks up to me.
"Good job, Y/n. You and your pal Albert here did a good deed today," the officer says, patting me on my shoulder. I feel a warm and fuzzy feeling inside because of that.
"No problem, sir. If you guys ever need any help, I'd always be happy just to be there," I say with a smile. The officer lets out a tiny smile, almost invisible, but I still see it.
"You're a good kid. Good luck with newspapes," The officer says and turns to talk to another officer, but turns back around to face me. "Wait, we have a couple murder cases that we haven't been able to solve. So if you and your pal ever want tah try and solve any other cases, just come by the station and ask for Officer Hugh,"
I nod, feeling giddy inside. The feeling is multiplied when a pair of arms wrap around my body and pull me off of the ground. I instantly know who it is, as my back is pressed against his chest.
"Y/n! You'se okay! What happened? Did he hoit you?" Albert asks, and I can practically feel the glare that he's giving the murderer.
"It wasn't anything bad, just tried to choke me a bit," I say with a shrug, hearing his heart beat makes mine beat faster.
"That doity bastard is gonna pay!" Albert says before gripping me tighter. I smile and pat his shoulder.
"It's alright, he's getting locked up, anyways," I say with a smile. Albert lets me go from the bear hug and sets me down. "Besides, I think we just got a job for the police."