Read Tell Me, Pretty Maiden Online

Authors: Rhys Bowen

Tags: #General, #Historical, #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #New York (N.Y.), #Women Sleuths, #Young women, #Cultural Heritage, #Women private investigators, #Women immigrants, #Murphy; Molly (Fictitious character), #Irish American women, #Winter, #Mutism

Tell Me, Pretty Maiden (18 page)

BOOK: Tell Me, Pretty Maiden
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“And you believe that your friend, Mr. Halsted, could really have shot your butler?” Daniel asked.

“Again, I don’t know what else to believe.” Harry’s voice rose in tension. “I can only put two and two together. Halsted’s auto is seen driving away. It contains an item stolen from our house and our butler is lying dead.”

“But if he intended to rob you, why telephone you to announce his arrival?” I asked. “Wouldn’t that put the household on the alert for him when surely he needed stealth to accomplish his theft?”

Harry frowned, considering this. “I can only think that when he got here something gave him the idea. Perhaps he found the front door unlocked and let himself in. Perhaps an object caught his eye. A piece of silver maybe. He was short of cash. He thought why not? And then he decided to go the whole hog and raid our silver collection. He knew it to be a valuable one because my father had shown it to him.”

“Was it likely that Mr. Halsted would be short of money?” Daniel asked. “I understood that his family was most indulgent to him. I also understood that he did not possess any kind of firearm.”

Harry shook his head violently. “I don’t know. I just don’t know. I’ve been going out of my mind trying to make sense of the whole thing. Halsted was a good friend and I would have said a trusted friend. It simply wasn’t like him to behave in this despicable way. But then maybe he had taken something that altered his personality.”

“Taken something?” Daniel asked quickly. “Drugs, you mean? Halsted took drugs?”

“Not on a regular basis. Good God no. But he did like to experiment and try new things. I know he had tried cocaine and opium before now, because he told me. If there was some drug that can completely alter the personality, then maybe that is the answer.”

“I know of no such drug,” Daniel said. “I know of drugs that will give a person courage and maybe cause the lines between right and wrong to blur, but nothing that will change the true nature—in spite of what that writer Robert Stevenson would have us believe with his Jekyll and Hyde.”

“Then I don’t know what else to say,” Harry said. “We understand from the police that this has not been the only robbery around here. Just that very day an attempt had been made to rob a bank in New Haven and it has been suggested that the same person carried out all of these foul acts because a bank employee was shot and the bullet was identical.”

“And do you think that could have been your friend?”

Harry shrugged. “He loved excitement. You heard about the time he won a bet to walk across the library roof? He took great risks when he was riding and he drove and rode like the devil. So who is to say that he didn’t feed his craving with daring acts of robbery?”

“But violence? His aunt describes him as a gentle boy.”

Harry thought for a minute, then nodded. “I should not have believed it possible that he is a cold-blooded killer. But there seems no other logical explanation.”

“We hope to get to the truth, Mr. Silverton,” Daniel said. He put a hand on my shoulder.

“Mr. Silverton,” I said. “You said it was a dark night. Could you swear that the vehicle you saw driving away that night belonged to Mr. Halsted?”

“I didn’t see the driver but the automobile certainly looked exactly like the one Halsted had proudly shown me only a week or so earlier. And it’s not even in general production yet. I’d swear to that in court. And they found our silver mustard pot under the seat, remember. How the devil did that get there if he wasn’t to blame?”

We stared at each other for a while, then I sighed. “We are going to get to the bottom of this, I promise you. We’re going to find JJ Halsted and learn the truth.”

“Then I wish you luck,” he said. “Nothing would please me more than to find my friend not guilty of this awful crime, but I fear I am already convinced there is no other explanation.”

He led us toward the front door and watched as we went down the front steps. The cabby was waiting for us out in the street and it had started to snow.

TWENTY-FOUR

The snow held off until we had reached the station, but as the train pulled out on its journey back to New York it started to fall in earnest, the white flakes swirling around the train windows.

“I hope we’re not trapped in a blizzard,” I said, peering out into the grayness.

“We should be back before enough snow can pile up to stop trains from running,” Daniel said shortly.

He had hardly said a word all the way back from the Silver-ton house. I had decided he must be considering various possibilities in the case but now I looked up at him with concern.

“Daniel, is something upsetting you?” I asked. “Something I’ve said or done?”

He sighed then blurted out, “Molly, you must stop introducing me as Captain Sullivan. It’s not right and it’s deceptive.”

“But you are Captain Sullivan.”

“Not at the moment.”

“You know it’s only a matter of time before you are reinstated. You’ve done nothing wrong, for heaven’s sake.”

“I set up an illegal prize fight.”

“That half the police force attended.”

“Nevertheless, if anyone wanted to find an excuse to get rid of me, it was still illegal.”

“Why would anyone want to get rid of you? Your colleagues all think highly of you. It will all be sorted out soon.”

“I hope so,” he said. “And until I am reinstated, I am not Captain Sullivan.”

“Very well.” I frowned. “You’re very touchy tonight.”

“I suppose I am. It has to do with the frustration I’m feeling. Being part of this case is only reminding me what I’ve been missing out on all this time. Cases I could have helped solve. And all the current trouble with the gangs. I’m one of the few cops who could do something about that. I think we may be in for a gang war, from what I hear. I know there was a big Italian gang funeral only the other day in the city. Black-plumed horses, bands, and the show. Makes me wonder who dared to bump off a gang member. And I can do nothing.” He slammed his fists together.

“You can help solve this particular case,” I said. “I’d certainly value your skills because I’m stumped.”

He nodded. “It’s one devil of a puzzle, isn’t it? I can’t believe that Halsted committed those crimes, but then I know that not many people own a brand-new automobile like that, especially not in a small town like New Haven. And if he’s really in the clear, then where the devil is he?”

“I wish I knew,” I said.

“I’ll try and get my hands on an automobile,” he said. “I hope I still have a few remaining well-connected friends. We should see for ourselves where the vehicle went off the road and see if anyone encountered Halsted after the crash. Although I’m sure the police will already have carried out a thorough investigation.”

“Which police department would that be?” I asked.

“Depends exactly where it happened. If it was in the Bronx then it’s officially part of New York City jurisdiction. If it was farther out from the city then it would be the local police of whatever town was closest, and the investigation is not likely to have been as thorough. I’ll ask a few questions. Someone in the department will know.” He turned to me. “Are you free to come with me some day this week?”

“Tomorrow would be best because the show opens on Tuesday. After that I don’t know how much time I’ll have to spend at the theater. And we must finish up our investigation on Mr. Roth, and I’d like to be around when Dr. Birnbaum treats the poor mute girl.”

“You’ve taken on too much again, haven’t you?”

I smiled. “Better than sitting at home twiddling my thumbs. At least if I’m going to be able to pay the bills.”

“It’s not right,” Daniel said. “I should be providing for you. I want to, Molly. I’m waiting for the day when—”

I put my hand up to touch his cheek. “Until that day it’s you we’ve got to worry about. I want you back on the job, Daniel. I want you to feel happy again. I want my old Daniel back—cocky, arrogant, and fun.”

“Oh, Molly, I know what I want.” He looked at me and suddenly we were in each other’s arms and he was kissing me passionately. It was lucky we had the compartment to ourselves. Who knows where that particular exercise might have led if a rap on the compartment door hadn’t made us break apart guiltily. “I need to see your tickets, sir,” said the ticket collector, looking distinctly embarrassed. “I’m sorry to be disturbing you and the young lady.”

Daniel smiled. “Sorry. We got a little carried away.”

“I quite understand, sir.” The ticket collector grinned knowingly. “I was young myself once. Now I’m the father of seven. Make the most of it while you can, sir.”

With that he shut the door again. We sat with Daniel’s arm around me all the way back into New York. When I got back home to Patchin Place I found Mrs. Tucker sitting on Mary’s bed with the girl asleep in her arms like a small child. She put her fingers to her lips as I poked my head around the door.

“She looks so peaceful,” I whispered.

“Now she does,” Mrs. Tucker exclaimed. “You should have seen her earlier.”

“What happened?”

“I was downstairs, doing some knitting, and suddenly I hears this unearthly noise,” she said in a low voice, smoothing the girl’s hair as she spoke. “I rushed upstairs and the poor thing is out of bed, rushing from room to room with this look of pure terror on her face, shrieking like a banshee.”

“Oh, no. What did you do?”

“It took me a while to quiet her down. I held her tightly in my arms, just like I’d hold my own children when they woke up with nightmares and suddenly she starts to sob. She cried and she cried and I kept telling her it was all right now. Then I gave her some of my soup, mixed her a dose of the sedative, and she went straight back to sleep.” She shook her head. “Poor little thing. She was scared out of her wits.”

“That’s exactly right,” I said. “She has been scared out of her wits. We have an alienist coming to see her.”

“An alienist? What in tarnation is that?”

“He’s a doctor of the mind,” I said.

“Never heard of such a thing. How can you treat the mind?”

“It’s the latest thing. He tries to get through to the subconscious—that’s the thoughts and fears we don’t even know about.”

“Sounds fishy to me,” she said. “I’ll wager my good broth and loving care will work better than his mumbo jumbo.”

“Maybe both together will do the trick,” I said. “And if we find her family then that would be the best thing of all. She needs to be safely home again.”

“As long as it wasn’t her family that brought on this terror in the first place,” she said knowingly.

“Oh, surely not,” I began but she shook her head. “Have you not heard of fathers doing unmentionable things to their daughters?”

“Holy Mother of God,” I said, my hand coming up to involuntarily cross myself. This was something that hadn’t crossed my mind before. I suppose I’ve always been naïve. Then I remembered. “But the doctors say she hadn’t been assaulted in that way.”

“Well, that’s one blessing, isn’t it?” Mrs. Tucker said gently. “Whatever happened to her, it was something terrible, I could tell that. I bet the crying did her a power of good. It was as if a damn had burst. I’ll wager she’ll be much better in the morning. Back to her old self, maybe.”

But the next morning there was still no indication that her speech or memory was returning. She greeted Dr. Birnbaum with an apprehensive stare as he came into the room, glancing at me to make sure I was going to stay close by.

“Hello, my dear. And how are we today?” he asked merrily. Then he turned to me. “I’ve some letters for you to read, Miss Murphy. Our first replies.”

“Does any of them look promising?”

“I doubt it,” he said, “but one never knows. Take a look for yourself.” He handed them to me, “Oh, and I’ve revised the advertisements, adding the phrase ‘May be called Annie.’ We’ll see if that produces better results.”

I had been watching the girl. At the mention of the word
Annie
she became suddenly alert and her eyes opened wide with fear.

“It’s all right, my sweet.” I went to her and patted her shoulder. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you again. You are safe here among people who care about you. You do understand me, don’t you?”

I thought I saw the slightest of nods, but I couldn’t be sure. I opened the letters and read them out loud, one by one, hoping that I’d see some sign of recognition in an address or a signature. To be sure none of the missing girls matched the description of our young lady, but it was worth a try. Some of the letters were quite piteous and I realized just how many runaway girls there could be in the world.

After I’d finished the letters, Dr. Birnbaum tried hypnotism on her again but once more she became horribly agitated when he said the word “Annie,” and he had to stop. If she understood more than the word “Annie,” she didn’t let on. She was living in her own private hell and she wasn’t going to let anyone else in.

“It may take time,” Birnbaum admitted, “although in some of these cases it only takes one thing to trigger a response and return speech and memory to them. She may wake one day as if from a dream. If she does suddenly come to her senses, I want to be called immediately. It could be a very dangerous moment for her. Realizing the implications of the trauma she went though could be too much for her conscious mind and could result in permanent madness or suicide or even violence to those around her.”

I nodded, remembering my friends’ concern that I might have taken on something too difficult and dangerous. “I have now engaged a nurse to be with her when I cannot,” I said.

“That’s a wise precaution.”

We all looked up at the sound of a horn tooting outside. I went to the window and there was Daniel, at the wheel of an automobile. I ran down to the front door.

“Are you ready for a ride?” he shouted over the noise of the engine.

“But what about all that snow yesterday?”

“It hardly snowed at all around the city,” he said jauntily as he jumped out of the automobile. “And I’m sure they’ll have taken the trouble to put down salt and gravel on the main roads out of town. So I think we’ll be all right. I doubt if we’ll make it all the way to New Haven, though. Have to leave that for another day.”

“I’ll have to see if Mrs. Tucker can look after our patient. I did warn her I might have to go out today.”

“She’s going to prove satisfactory as a nurse, is she?” Daniel asked.

“Absolutely. She’s treating our patient like one of her own children.”

“Well, that’s one thing off your mind then,” Daniel said. “I’ll go and fetch her while you get ready, shall I? I bet she’ll enjoy being seen driving away in an automobile!”

I helped him reverse the auto out of our alleyway and then off he went, his wheels spinning up slush from the gutters. I put on warm clothes, as my experience of automobiles led me to believe that they were not highly successful at keeping out the cold and damp. I was just tucking my hair under my hat when Daniel returned with Mrs. Tucker.

“How is the lamb today?” she asked eagerly. “I couldn’t sleep all last night, worrying about the poor little thing. If I find the one who did this to her, he’s going to wish he’d never been born.” And she waved her knitting needles in a threatening manner.

“I think we hit pay dirt on our choice of nursemaid,” Daniel said as we drove away. “She’s one of those women who relishes taking care of others.”

I laughed. “When Mrs. Goodwin was confined to bed after her accident, Mrs. Tucker took it upon herself to look after her. She drove Mrs. Goodwin mad. It was a real clash of wills.”

“So a sedated girl would be more to her liking,” Daniel said. “Either way, it means I have you to myself again. We have the use of a stylish automobile and our time is our own.”

BOOK: Tell Me, Pretty Maiden
12.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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