Murder in the North End by P.B. Ryan

Author:P.B. Ryan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: framed for murder, boston irish, gilded age, con game, pb ryan, 19th century boxing, catholic divorce, gilded age mysteries, 19th century prostitution, historical mystery series, young ireland movement, boston mystery, protection racket, boston corruption, boston governess, 19th century mystery, irish cop, governess, boston police, north end, governess mystery, boston slum, historical mystery, nell sweeney
Publisher: P.B. Ryan
Published: 2010-07-09T11:03:24+00:00

“It’s forty a week, plus six bucks for every ten she takes in.”

“Six?” Nell said. “I heard the other girls only pay you half.”

“Those girls are my girls,” Mother said. “I got an investment in them. Every john you take away from them is one my girls don’t get, and there’s just so many of them to go around. Sixty percent. Take it or leave it.”

“Was that your agreement with Johnny and Mary? Sixty percent?” Nell noticed, in the corner of her eye, Will smiling at the way she was dickering over the cut.

“Mary wasn’t a sporting girl,” Mother said.

“She wasn’t...?” Nell began. “But I thought...”

“Not in the usual way,” Mother amended. “My arrangement with Johnny was a little more complicated, but he still owed me a cut—not that I always got what was due me. Johnny held out.” Turning to Will with a frosty glint in her eye, Mother said, “Don’t hold out.”

Mother sent Will out to the bar to pay the first month’s rent to Riley, who handled her cash transactions, but she asked Nell to stay behind for a minute so that they could “get to know each other.”

As soon as Will was out of earshot, Mother said, “Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean what the hell is a pretty little jay like you doin’ in a rumhole like this, when you could be hawkin’ your mutton in some highfalutin flash house over on Cambridge Street?”

“Um...”

“Look at you,” Mother said, gesturing with a colossal pudding arm. “You got class. You can’t hide class, no matter how much tit you show. And there’s somethin’ in your eyes, an innocence, a sweetness. You blush real good. Johns’ll pay top dollar for them blushes. Maidenheads is big business in your line of work.”

“I haven’t had one of those since I was sixteen,” Nell said truthfully; not since her wedding night with Duncan.

“Fakin’ it is easier than you think. I can give you a few pointers, and I’ll tell you, men believe what they want to believe. You could easily pass for cherry—time and again.”

It occurred to Nell that Mother Nabby was, for whatever reason, trying very hard to talk Nell into this. Plumbing her mind for a reason to put her off, Nell said, “If I work at a regular brothel, I’ll have to pay the proprietress, and—”

“You’ll be payin’ me if you work out of here,” Mother said. “And him, too.” She glanced at the door through which Will had departed. “He’s mackin’ for you, ain’t he? What’ll be left for you? Ten percent? Twenty? At a first class bumshop, you’ll be chargin’ more and keepin’ more.”

“Um, I’ll... I guess I’ll think about it. But, um, in the meantime—”

“You let me know, and I’ll find you a place. I know a few madams that run very discreet houses, very high-tone and discriminating. Only the best johns. Clean, rich. They tip pretty heavy, some of ‘em.”

“Pardon me for asking,” Nell said, “but what’s in it for you?”

“They’ll pay me for

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