Murder on Fifth Avenue: A Gaslight Mystery (17 page)

BOOK: Murder on Fifth Avenue: A Gaslight Mystery
12.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Frank didn’t feel clever. He felt ashamed of all the men who had abused this poor girl and who would continue to. She’d said they didn’t have any money, and she would need some to tide her over. He glanced around, trying to spot anything of value that she could sell, and something shiny on one of the tables caught his eye. A fancy silver bowl with a handle, half full of walnuts. The nutcracker and other implements lay nestled in the nuts. Chilton Devries had been fond of walnuts, he remembered.

“If that’s real silver, you could pawn it.”

Miss English stared at him in shock. “I couldn’t do that! Mr. Devries would never…Oh!”

“Right. He won’t know. And nobody else will know what was here, either. You should probably gather up everything you could pawn and sell it right away. You don’t know how much longer you’ll be here, and if somebody evicts you, it’ll be too late.”

“What’re you telling the girl?” Lizzie asked from the doorway.

“He said we should sell the nut bowl, and there’s another one upstairs. He said we should do it right away, before they put us out. Oh, and Mr. Devries’s shaving set. That’s silver, too.”

“Hush,” Lizzie said, frowning at Frank.

“Don’t worry, I don’t care what you do.”

“Here,” she said, thrusting a bulging pillowcase at him. “That’s all his clothes. You can be on your way now.”

Frank wanted to look through the clothes, but he could wait. He took his leave, and as Lizzie was closing the door behind him, he heard Miss English say, “He said we should ask Uncle Ned to find me another protector.”

Frank shook his head.

F
RANK STOPPED OFF AT
P
OLICE
H
EADQUARTERS AND WENT
through the bag of clothing. He found the nightshirt and several changes of linen, but nothing had a hole in it. If Norah English had stabbed Devries, she’d done it while he was naked. The trouble was, he didn’t think she had. She was just too simple to lie well, and a girl too honest to hock someone else’s silver would never be able to hide a murder.

He’d put it off as long as he could. He needed to report what he’d learned to Felix Decker. As much as he would have enjoyed chatting with Mrs. Decker, he figured he shouldn’t risk the old man’s wrath by going to his house again.

He reached the office by midafternoon, half frozen and cursing the wintry wind that whipped mercilessly down the city’s streets. Decker’s secretary—an old-fashioned, middle-aged gentleman; no girl secretaries for Felix Decker—recognized him and only kept him waiting a few minutes before ushering him into the inner office.

Decker didn’t rise, but Frank noticed he’d put aside the papers he’d been working on to give Frank his full attention.

“Mr. Malloy, I’d given you up.”

“I had to go see Miss English, too.”

“The mistress? Was that Italian supposed to kill her, too?”

“Not that I know of, but I figured if I found a nightshirt with a bloody hole in it at her house, we could all rest a little easier.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“And what about this Mrs. Richmond? Is she still alive?”

“Oh, yes. She’s also Garnet Devries’s mother.”

“Good God!”

“I thought you must know that.”

“No, not …” Decker shifted uneasily.

“But you knew the name Richmond when I said it yesterday.”

Frank watched Decker’s inner struggle. Normally, Decker probably wouldn’t share much information with anyone, not even his closest friends. An intensely private man, he had also assigned Frank a difficult task, and withholding information would only hinder him in accomplishing that task. “I knew a man named Richmond.”

“Devries cheated him in a business deal.”

“No, he didn’t. At least he didn’t actually cheat him. He merely offered him the opportunity to invest. He gave me the same opportunity.”

“And did you take it?”

“Yes, but I wasn’t impressed with the possibilities, so I only put in fifty thousand.”

Frank didn’t think he’d ever heard the word
only
used in conjunction with fifty thousand dollars. “And you lost your money?”

“Along with everyone else who invested. The difference was that I could afford to lose. Richmond couldn’t.”

“Then why did he do it?”

“Why does anyone do something stupid? He wanted to make money, I suppose, but more likely, he wanted to be seen as an equal to men like Devries.”

“And you.”

Decker shrugged. “Richmond came to the club when he heard the deal had gone sour. He made an ugly scene and had to be escorted out. I saw his obituary two days later.”

“He killed himself, leaving his wife and daughter with nothing.”

Decker considered this information. “What does this have to do with Chilton’s death?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to figure out why he wanted Mrs. Richmond dead.”

“Then you think the Italian was telling the truth?”

“Mrs. Richmond said he came to see her. He told her Devries had hired him to have her killed.”

“He must be a charming man.”

“She was pretty scared, but Angotti just wanted to know
why
Devries wanted her dead. I got the feeling from Angotti that he wasn’t above having one of his men kill a woman if she deserved it, but he wanted to be sure, so he asked her. She didn’t know why Devries wanted her dead, but she told him her story, and Angotti decided not to kill her.”

“A compassionate gangster.”

“Thank God for that. The important thing is why did Devries want her dead in the first place? I think it has something to do with her daughter.”

“Garnet? What makes you think that?”

“Because that was her only connection to Devries. And the
more I think about it, the more I think Devries ruined Richmond on purpose.”

“That’s ridiculous! Do you think he talked his friends into investing in a scheme he knew would fail?”

“Why not? You said yourself you didn’t have much confidence in the scheme. And none of his other friends got ruined. They’re like you. They can afford to take a risk and lose now and then, but not Richmond. And why go to Richmond in the first place? The man wasn’t rich. He couldn’t even get into your club.”

Decker tapped a finger on his desk for several moments. “I did wonder about that afterwards, but perhaps Chilton didn’t know his true situation. Remember they met when Richmond applied to join the Knickerbocker. One would assume he had the means for such a venture, even if he didn’t have any social standing in the city yet. And don’t forget, Chilton seemed very confident. He managed to convince several of us to take a chance. Maybe he thought he’d do Richmond a good turn by letting him in.”

“Have you ever known Devries to do somebody a good turn for no reason?”

Decker had no answer.

“I’ll tell you what I think. I think he ruined Richmond on purpose so he could get Garnet.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he wanted a wife for his son.”

“Chilton didn’t have to scheme to bring that about. Paul Devries could marry anyone he wanted.”

“Could he?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you met Paul’s friend, Hugh Zeller?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Paul and Hugh Zeller
are very close friends. They’re such close friends that Paul would probably not be interested in women.”

Decker simply stared back at Frank across his desk, his expression stony.

“I think Devries wanted his son comfortably and safely married, but he couldn’t take the chance of marrying him off to a girl who might be disappointed in Paul and reveal his secret.”

“A girl whose family would be outraged,” Decker said. “A family with power and influence who would make sure Devries and his family were socially ostracized for tricking a young woman like that.”

“Then he met Garnet Richmond, and he decided she would be the perfect wife for Paul, if he could make her desperate enough that she would take him and stay with him under any circumstances.”

“Good God,” Decker said, this time in a horrified whisper. “But he’d already gotten what he wanted. Why did he want to kill Mrs. Richmond?”

“I’m not sure yet, but Paul told me Garnet wanted a divorce. Mrs. Richmond came to New York to see her daughter, and maybe Devries thought she would help Garnet leave.”

Decker shook his head as if trying to clear it. “But does this have anything at all to do with why somebody stabbed Chilton?”

“I don’t know yet. The question is, do you want me to keep on trying to find out?”

9

W
HEN
S
ARAH WOKE UP, SHE WAS DELIGHTED TO FIND HER
mother had stopped by for a visit. Mrs. Decker had been only too happy to join Catherine and Maeve upstairs for some make-believe involving the dollhouse while she waited for Sarah to finish her nap.

Maeve and Catherine had fixed her a sandwich to tide her over until supper, then the girls went back upstairs so Sarah and her mother could speak privately. They shared the details of their respective visits with Malloy while Sarah ate her sandwich at the kitchen table.

“Do you think Father will allow him to continue the investigation?” Sarah asked.

“I have no idea, although I will certainly encourage him to, if I can. I simply can’t get over Garnet being with child, though. Why wouldn’t she have told Paul and Lucretia? I gathered that her failure to produce a son to carry on the
family name was a major source of Lucretia’s disappointment in her.”

“Maybe she didn’t want to say anything until she was certain. Claiming to be with child when you’re not can cause even more resentment.”

“Perhaps, but still…You said she wasn’t happy about the baby.”

“No, and that’s puzzling. Of course, if she wanted to end her marriage, a child would complicate matters tremendously.”

“Yes, it would. Although she would be a fool to divorce Paul; if she wanted her freedom badly enough, she might be willing to tolerate the disgrace and being left with nothing.”

Sarah tried to remember anything she might know about a society divorce. Alva and William Vanderbilt, Consuelo’s parents, were divorced, but Alva had somehow managed to remarry another millionaire almost immediately, so their situation was hardly comparable to Garnet and Paul Devries. Besides the Vanderbilts, she couldn’t think of any other examples. “Garnet could go back to her family, I suppose, if they would take her in, but Mrs. Devries would never allow her to take her child.”

“Heavens, no, and the law would support that. Paul would get the child, and Garnet would never see it again. That would explain her unhappiness about the baby, at least.”

“The choice between staying in an unhappy marriage or never seeing your child again is awful.”

“Women stay in unhappy marriages for far less noble reasons all the time,” her mother said. “And how unhappy can she be? Lucretia is a harridan, to be sure, but I can’t believe Paul is a problem. Surely, he doesn’t beat her or starve her or keep her locked away in the cellar. The worst I can imagine
is that he neglects her, and many women would consider that a benefit.”

Her mother was right, of course. Chilton and Lucretia Devries apparently had just such an arrangement. She and her mother had reached no conclusions a few minutes later when the doorbell brought Catherine and Maeve clamoring downstairs to greet the visitor.

“Just as I hoped,” her mother said when they recognized Frank Malloy’s deep voice. “I knew he wouldn’t dare come to our house again, but I felt sure he’d be here sooner or later.”

Sarah bit back a smile. Her mother was obviously enjoying the novelty of having a murder to investigate. Or perhaps she had simply grown fond of Frank Malloy.

In a few more moments, Malloy appeared in the doorway, carrying a delighted Catherine. Sarah felt her smile growing at the sight. She had grown very fond of Frank Malloy herself.

“Mrs. Decker, I was hoping you’d be here,” he said with a grin.

“Great minds think alike, Mr. Malloy,” she replied.

“What does that mean?” Catherine asked.

“I’ll explain it to you later,” Maeve said. “Now tell Mr. Malloy good-bye. The grown-ups need to talk for a while.”

“Then can I come back?”

“Of course,” Malloy said. “Now give me a kiss before you go.”

Catherine giggled and pecked him on the cheek. Children, Sarah reflected, are excellent judges of character.

When the girls were gone, Malloy took a seat at the kitchen table. Without asking, Sarah poured him a cup of coffee.

“Have you been busy today, Mr. Malloy?” her mother asked.

“Yes, I have. I visited Mrs. Richmond and Miss English.”

“Miss English is Mr. Devries’s mistress, Mother.”

“I don’t suppose you would need me to see her as well,” her mother said. “I’ve never actually met anyone’s mistress before.”

“No, I would not,” Malloy said quite firmly.

“Pity. Oh, well, at least you can tell us what you’ve learned from these two ladies. Oh, dear, does one call a mistress a lady? I don’t believe this was covered in my deportment classes at Miss Lydia’s Finishing School.”

“Behave yourself, Mother. Poor Mr. Malloy doesn’t know you’re teasing him.”

“I think he probably does, but I should allow him to tell his story. That
was
covered in deportment classes. One always defers to the gentleman in conversation.”

“Which means you have to suffer through a lot of dull conversations, I’d guess,” Malloy said.

“But never when I am in your company, Mr. Malloy.”

Malloy raised his eyebrows, but he said, “I am happy to report that Mrs. Richmond is alive and well.”

“That’s good news,” Sarah said.

“What is her first name? I keep thinking I must know her.”

“Terry, she said.”

“What an odd name. I suppose it’s short for Theresa or something. It still doesn’t ring a bell, although the Richmond part does.”

“I don’t think you’d know her, except that she’s Garnet Devries’s mother.”

Sarah and her mother gaped at him. “Her
mother
?” Sarah said.

“Yes. Remember when I told you that Angotti went to see her, and when he heard her story, he decided she didn’t deserve to be murdered? That’s what he told Devries the day he died, at least.”

BOOK: Murder on Fifth Avenue: A Gaslight Mystery
12.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Good Partner by Peter Robinson
El caballero inexistente by Italo Calvino
Murder on the Down Low by Young, Pamela Samuels
Imager's Challenge by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.
One More Time by RB Hilliard
The Star Shard by Frederic S. Durbin
Deadly Mission by Max Chase
Becoming Me by Melody Carlson
Ciaran (Bourbon & Blood) by Seraphina Donavan