Maybe Eliot Ness had come to retrieve him. Friday was their usual meeting day. At least, she thought the man Malone regularly met with was Eliot Ness. She’d never actually seen him up close. He never got out of the car, and Michael had not once mentioned him. Not once. He did not talk about his current assignment at all, though she had a fairly good idea what he was doing.
She reassured herself that must be it, that he and the safety director had gone somewhere together. But when he didn’t return Saturday, she grew frantic, fearing that he’d met with something nefarious. And she had no idea what to do.
Lenka thought they should contact the authorities. “There is a butcher cutting off the heads of handsome young men in this city, Dani,” she cried.
“He isn’t handsome and he isn’t young,” Zuzana snapped.
“I’m sure he’s all right, Lenka,” Dani soothed, tamping down her own fears to ease Lenka’s agitation. But she wasn’t sure of that at all.
She found the sheet of paper Inez Staley had filled out upon securing the room. The telephone number she’d left routed Dani to city hall, and surprisingly, the call was answered by Inez herself, who sounded efficient but impatient, but perhaps that was because she was fielding calls on a Saturday.
“Director Ness’s office, this is Miss Staley. How may I help you?”
“Oh! Um. I would like to speak with Mr. Ness, please,” Dani said, her mind racing. Mr. Ness’s office!
“Mr. Ness is not available. May I ask who’s speaking?”
“Uh, Mr. . . . Mr. Malone.”
“Mr. Malone?” Inez Staley asked, exasperation creeping into her voice.
“Uh, Mr. Michael Malone would like to speak with Mr. Ness,” she amended. “It is quite urgent.”
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Ness is not here.”
“Would you tell him Michael Malone would like to speak with him at his earliest convenience? I believe Mr. Ness has the number, but just in case . . .” Dani dictated the number slowly.
“I’ll give him your message, miss. But I don’t know when he’ll be back.”
Dani returned the handset back to the cradle and sat, staring at the telephone, willing it to ring. When it didn’t, she reluctantly returned to the shop but was silent all day, straining to hear, shushing her aunts when they spoke and listening to customers with half an ear. They received five calls all day, and each time, Dani dashed to answer it, making Zuzana scold and Lenka gasp. None of the callers were Eliot Ness.
It wasn’t until they sat down for supper Sunday afternoon that Dani heard the telephone pealing from the sewing room. She flew down the stairs, through the hall, and into the sewing room before it had completed its fourth chime.
“Kos Clothiers,” she answered, her heart in her throat, the way it had been for days.
“This is Eliot Ness calling for Mr. Malone, please.”
“Mr. Ness, my name is Daniela Kos. It was I who called you. Mr. Michael Malone is a boarder in my home.”
“Is he all right?” Eliot Ness’s voice was sharp.
Dani’s heart sank. “I was hoping you could tell me, Mr. Ness. He left sometime on Thursday—I thought maybe you had come to fetch him on Friday—and he hasn’t been seen since. He hasn’t been home. He didn’t take his car. I wanted to file a missing person’s report but thought maybe I should talk to you first.”
Silence shimmered through the line.
“Mr. Ness?”
“Malone is fine. I can promise you that.”
“Then you know where he is?”
“No, ma’am. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he just took the train back to Washington, DC, on business.”
“But . . . are you sure? I’m concerned. If he is in trouble, he is very much alone.”
“What did you say your name was?” Eliot Ness asked, his voice mild.
“I’m Daniela Kos, uh, Dani.”
“Dani,” he repeated. “And you’re the . . . proprietor of the house?”
“Yes, sir. I suppose I am.”
“I see. And Mr. Malone told you we were acquainted?”
Dani didn’t want to lie to the man, but she also didn’t quite know how to explain her knowledge. “That’s right,” she said. “He listed you as a reference.”
“Huh.” He left the word dangling like a hook in the water.
“We were very impressed, Mr. Ness. Very impressed b-by that,” she stammered.
“We?”
“My aunts and I.”