“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Bates said. “Why don’t they know who this Betty Perkins is? They certainly took every bit of information about all of us that they could. They must know who all their other prisoners are, too.”
Elizabeth could have explained it, of course, but she said, “Maybe she didn’t use her real name.”
“Why would she do that?”
Elizabeth tried to imagine being so innocent that she couldn’t think of a reason to lie about her identity. “Maybe she’s ashamed to be in jail and doesn’t want her family to find out.”
“None of the suffragists are ashamed to be here, so it can’t be one of us.”
“Is that true, ma’am?” a girl sitting on the other side of Mrs. Bates asked. She was one of the regular prisoners, a white girl with a sharp, thin face and hair the color of poppies growing in black at the roots.
“Is what true?” Mrs. Bates asked.
“That this Betty Perkins isn’t one of you ladies.”
“I’m sure she’s not.”
Elizabeth got gooseflesh again as the idea formed in her mind. She leaned around to see the girl better. She had a gleam in her eye that told Elizabeth she might be bold enough to take a chance. “Why do you ask?”
The girl shrugged and made a face she must have thought looked innocent. “Just curious.”
“I guess this Betty Perkins isn’t one of the regular prisoners, either.”
“Oh no. Who’d miss out on a chance to get out of here? Except for you ladies, I mean.”
Elizabeth returned her innocent look. “Why don’t you tell them you’re Betty Perkins, then?”
Mrs. Bates frowned. “That would be dishonest.”
Elizabeth didn’t bother to remind her that the girl was already in jail, for heaven’s sake, and the girl herself didn’t seem at all bothered by the prospect of some more dishonesty. “Now, that’s a thought. But do you think they’d believe me?”
Elizabeth pretended to consider the question. “They might, and then you’d be out of here.”
“But what if they don’t?”
“Then you’re no worse off, are you?”
“Are you sure that’s wise, Elizabeth?” Mrs. Bates asked. “She might get in trouble.”
“I can’t get in much worse trouble than I’m already in,” the girl said. “And this could get me out of it.”
“Yes, it could,” Elizabeth said. “If they want to know why you didn’t speak up before, tell them you didn’t want to give your real name because you didn’t want your family to know you’d been locked up.”
The girl gave Elizabeth a shrewd glance that saw more than Mrs. Bates ever would. “Thank you kindly, miss. You’re a good one.”
Elizabeth nodded and watched her scurry over to the guard, who gave her an earful for putting them to so much trouble finding her, and then the two of them left the room.
“That was very clever,” Mrs. Bates said, although she didn’t sound like she entirely approved. “However did you think of it?”
“I don’t know,” Elizabeth lied, giving Mrs. Bates her most innocent face. “It just seemed logical, and a kindness,” she added quickly, “to help another female escape from this place.”
Anna hurried back over, saving Elizabeth from any more inquiries. Plainly, she had some news.
“They said Mr. O’Brien was here today.”
“Who did?” Mrs. Bates asked.
“One of the guards told Julia. She felt sorry for her. For all of us, I guess.”
“Who’s Mr. O’Brien?” Elizabeth asked.
“He’s our attorney. What was he doing here?”
“The guard didn’t know. She just said he came, and I guess they wouldn’t let him see us, but there’s more. Miss Burns has started a hunger strike, and Mrs. Lewis has joined her.”
CHAPTER FIVE
O’Brien smiled at their eagerness as they met him at the door. “I found a friendly judge.”
“Thank heaven,” Mrs. Young said.
“You got the writ?” Gideon felt the first stirrings of hope that his mother would soon be free.
“Yes. All we have to do is find a deputy to serve it, and we can force the warden to present the prisoners in court.”
“When can we see them?” Miss Morey asked.
O’Brien’s smile vanished. “Not today, I’m afraid. Warden Whittaker made it clear to me that he is determined not to let us in unless a judge orders him to.”
“But what about the writ or whatever it is?” Miss Morey asked.
“The writ will only get us before the judge,” Gideon said. “Whittaker will know that, I’m afraid, and besides, it’s Friday evening. Even if we find someone to serve Whittaker today, the soonest the judge can hear the case is Monday.”
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Young said.
“Which is why I’m going to ask Mr. Bates to take you ladies back to Washington,” O’Brien said.
“I won’t go back until I see Tilly,” Mrs. Young said.
O’Brien frowned. “Please be reasonable. I can’t leave you ladies here overnight, and I don’t want to have to worry about your comfort while I’m trying to take care of everything else.”
Gideon sighed out his frustration. “Surely, I can be of some assistance to you.”
“Not here, but if you were back in Washington, you might be able to put some pressure on the right people.”
“I suppose I could go see Mr. Tumulty again and tell him what’s happening here,” Mrs. Young said.
Miss Morey nodded her agreement. “We can also find some friendly reporters to do a story. If nothing else, we may be able to shame President Wilson into releasing them.”
The guard cleared his throat. “I’ll be glad to drive you folks back to the train station.”
They all glared at him, but he only shrugged.
“We must let everyone at headquarters know our situation,” O’Brien said to Gideon. “I need you to make sure these ladies get back safely, and I may need you to use your legal skills in Washington. You’d be doing me a great favor.”
Gideon thought of his mother in that workhouse and wanted to put his fist through the wall, but he managed to swallow his fury. O’Brien was probably right. Staying here wouldn’t help the prisoners, but he might do some good back in the district. “It will be my privilege to escort you ladies back to Washington.”