Murder on Fifth Avenue: A Gaslight Mystery (3 page)

“Sir, should I…?”

“Yes?”

“I mean, do you want to see just Mrs. Devries, or should I ask Mr. Paul to join you?”

“Please ask Paul to join us, too, if he’s at home.”

When the maid had closed the door behind herself, Decker turned to Frank. “I suppose I should have asked your permission to include Paul. That’s Devries’s son.”

Frank ignored the sarcasm. “If the wife is going to get hysterical, having the son here is a good idea.”

Decker made a rude noise, but Frank didn’t know what in particular had annoyed him, so he pretended not to notice his displeasure. Instead he glanced around at the enormous furniture upholstered in dark blue plush overwhelming the space. A large painting of a sour-looking gentleman hung above the fireplace in a hideous gilt frame, and dark landscapes depicting fox hunts adorned the others. Heavy drapes hung at the windows, trailing onto the floor and tied back with gold cords. No ray of sunlight had managed to enter the room.

Mrs. Devries didn’t keep them waiting long. He figured he had Decker to thank for that.

The wisp of a woman, dressed in a gown more suited to someone half her age, paused in the doorway and struck a pose, her finger to her chin as she gazed first at Decker and then at him. She wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. Her fair hair had been elaborately arranged but appeared stiff as straw. Like her face, it seemed a bit the worse for wear. After a moment, she tipped her head quizzically to one side and offered the hand not clutching a lacy handkerchief to Decker.

“Felix, what on earth brings you here at this ungodly hour? I hope the girl told you Chilton isn’t at home, and I have no idea when he’ll return. He never confides in me, you know. You have no idea how I suffer.”

Decker took her hand in both of his. “Lucretia, I know very well how you suffer. You tell me every time I set eyes on you. Please, come in and sit down. Is Paul here?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. Paul never confides in me either. I’m always the last to know everything that goes on in my own house.”

This was going to be horrible, Frank decided. The wife would dissolve into hysterics and he wouldn’t be able to get a thing out of her. Then her doctor would come and give her laudanum, and he’d never be allowed back in the house again.

Mrs. Devries jabbered on about something or other that had caused her distress as Decker escorted her to a sofa. He had no sooner seated her than a young man appeared, still smoothing his suit coat as he strode into the room. “Mr. Decker, what a pleasant surprise.”

Paul Devries resembled his mother. A small man with delicate features and her fair coloring, he seemed nervous and uncertain as he ran a hand over his thinning hair. Frank wondered if this was his usual temperament or if Decker’s arrival had upset him.

“I’m very sorry to burst in on you like this, but I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Something that might have been alarm flickered over Paul Devries’s face but was gone before Frank could be sure.

“I’m sure I don’t want to hear bad news, whatever it might be,” Mrs. Devries was saying. “I have a very nervous disposition, you know. I cannot abide unpleasantness.”

“You will have to abide this, I’m afraid,” Decker said, plainly unmoved by her protests. “Chilton is dead.”

Both mother and son stared at him in what appeared to be genuine shock.

“Dead?” Paul echoed, as if he’d never heard the word be-fore.

“That’s impossible,” his mother said. “He was perfectly fine when he left the house this morning.”

“What time was that?” Frank asked from where he stood beside the cold fireplace.

Both Devrieses looked at him in surprise.

“I’m very sorry. I should have introduced you,” Decker said. “Lucretia, Paul, this is Detective Sergeant Malloy of the New York City Police Department.”

If anything, they looked even more surprised.

Paul blinked first. “Police? Why are the police here?”

“Because it appears your father was murdered.”

Frank braced himself for screaming, but to his surprise, the widow seemed more annoyed than upset.

“What on earth are you talking about, Felix? None of this makes any sense at all!”

“I’m afraid I’ve made a botch of this, although I’m sure you can understand I have never had occasion to notify a family that one of their members has been…killed.”

“Perhaps you should start at the beginning,” Paul said,
moving somewhat awkwardly to the nearest chair and lowering himself into it.

To Frank’s surprise, Decker looked over at him, as if to get his approval. Frank nodded, then watched carefully for their reactions.

“Chilly came to the Knickerbocker this afternoon.”

“As was his habit,” Mrs. Devries said. “But surely you know that.”

“Yes, well, in any case, he went to the library to read the newspapers. The staff noticed he seemed to have dozed off, but eventually, when he did not respond to a disturbance, they realized he had passed away.”

“In his sleep? Just like that?” Mrs. Devries said.

“That hardly sounds like murder,” Paul said with a trace of outrage.

“We sent for an undertaker, and when he moved the body, he discovered some blood. The source of the blood was a wound on Chilly’s back. Someone had stabbed him.”

“Are you saying someone at the club stabbed him?” Mrs. Devries asked. “How could such a thing happen?”

“We believe someone stabbed him before he arrived at the club.”

“Are you saying my father was fatally stabbed, and yet he walked away, went to his club, and sat down to read the newspapers without saying a word to anyone?”

“The wound itself is quite small and on his back, and it bled very little. He probably had no idea how seriously he had been injured. It may even have been an accident,” Decker added, with a glance at Frank, who chose not to contradict him. Maybe it
had
been an accident.

“How could such a small injury have killed him, then?” Mrs. Devries seemed offended at the thought.

“I am sure the medical examiner will be able to explain that after the autopsy.”

Paul jumped to his feet. “Good God, they’re not doing an autopsy!”

“I’m afraid they must. We have to be sure what killed him, you see.”

“So there is still some doubt?” Mrs. Devries said. “He may not have been murdered at all?”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Decker said.

Frank caught his imploring glance and took a seat near Paul Devries. When Frank sat down, Paul resumed his seat as well. “When did you last see your husband, Mrs. Devries?”

She widened her eyes at him, then looked him over with disdain. “Felix, really, is this necessary?”

“I’m afraid it is. If someone murdered Chilly, you want them found, don’t you?”

Mrs. Devries seemed to consider her answer carefully, but before she replied, her son said, “Of course we do. I saw my father this morning, before he left the house. He was perfectly fine, and I saw no one attack him.”

“It must have happened after he left home. There can be no other explanation,” his mother confirmed. “No one here would have stabbed him, I can assure you of that.”

Frank looked from mother to son and back again. Had either of them realized they had not expressed the least bit of anguish or grief at hearing the head of their family was dead? “As Mr. Decker said, it may have been an accident, but we need to be sure. Who else lives here?”

“The servants, of course, and my wife,” Paul said.

“Your wife?”

Paul bristled. “You can’t think
she
stabbed my father in the back.”

Frank had to admit it sounded unlikely, but he hadn’t met her yet, so he would reserve judgment. “Any other family members?”

“My two daughters are married, so of course they don’t live here.”

“Can you tell me what time Mr. Devries left the house today?”

“I certainly cannot,” his wife said. “Mr. Devries comes and goes as he pleases without consulting me.”

“Do you know what his plans were for the day?”

Mrs. Devries glared at him. “I told you, Mr. Devries does as he pleases.”

Frank was starting to wish she’d gotten hysterical.

“Roderick will know. That’s his valet,” Paul said.

“I’ll need to talk with him and with your other servants, too,” Frank said.

“Is this necessary? I don’t want the household upset,” Mrs. Devries said. “My nerves won’t stand it.”

“Mother, there’s no help for it. With Papa dead—”

“Dead?” a new voice said.

They all looked up. A young woman had entered the room. She wore a simple gown, and her rich, dark hair had been brushed into an ordinary bun, but her unadorned beauty far outshone Mrs. Devries’s frippery. This must be the other Mrs. Devries.

The men rose instantly to their feet.

“Who’s dead?” she asked.

“Oh, Garnet,” Mrs. Devries said, her voice rising into a wail. “Mr. Decker has come to tell us poor Papa is dead.” The tears Frank had expected earlier began to flow, making him wonder if she’d just been waiting for the right audience.

Paul immediately went to comfort his mother, leaving his
wife to her own devices. She looked at Felix Decker. “Is it true? Is the old man really dead?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to say.”

Frank watched the emotions flicker across her face too rapidly for him to identify, and then to his surprise, she broke into a dazzling smile. “He’s dead,” she said with what could only be called exultation, and she began to laugh.

N
OW THIS WAS AN INTERESTING REACTION TO NEWS OF A
family member’s death. It also drew Paul’s attention away from his mother. For a few seconds they all stared at Garnet Devries. She must be hysterical, but the only cure Frank knew was to slap her, and slapping Garnet Devries would not improve his chances of interviewing the rest of the family more thoroughly. Fortunately, Felix Decker had no such concerns.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake that snapped her head back. Her laughter ceased at once, and she gazed up at him in surprise for a moment before she went limp. Decker caught her before she could fall, and Paul rushed over. Together they got her into a chair. Her color was high, and her eyes glittered from some inner fire.

“Get her some brandy,” Decker told Paul.

“Good heavens, not brandy,” Mrs. Devries said. “Sherry should do the trick.”

Paul went to a sideboard and found whatever he had decided to give his wife. He brought it back in a crystal tumbler. Frank expected him to put the glass to her lips, but he merely held it out to her at arm’s length. She didn’t even notice it.

Decker took the glass and put it to her lips. She wrapped her hands over his while she sipped, coughed a bit, then sipped again before looking up at him. “Thank you, Mr. Decker. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s the shock, I’m sure,” Decker said.

It might be more than that. Frank had never seen anyone laugh when they found out a loved one was dead.

“The shock, of course,” Mrs. Devries said. Frank noticed she’d forgotten she was supposed to be crying. “I feel rather faint myself. Poor Chilly. And what an undignified way to go. Stabbed, you say? I can hardly credit it.”

Garnet’s head came up. “Stabbed? What do you mean,
stabbed
?”

“They think someone stabbed Father.”

“Stabbed him where?” she asked.

“In the back, apparently,” Paul said.

She sighed. “No, I mean where was he when it happened?”

Paul and his mother exchanged a glance, then looked at Decker, who turned to Frank.

“We don’t know when or where it happened. The wound was small. He probably didn’t know he was seriously hurt, but he died later from the injury.”

“Who are you?” she asked, and Frank noticed the abrupt question didn’t sound rude coming from her.

“Frank Malloy.”

“He’s a policeman,” Paul added.

Garnet looked Frank over but showed none of the disdain
her mother-in-law had exhibited. “He doesn’t look like a policeman. Where’s his uniform?”

“I’m a detective sergeant with the city police.”

“Mr. Malloy is investigating Chilly’s death,” Decker added.

She considered this information. “If you don’t know when or where he was stabbed, how are you going to investigate?”

“It won’t be easy,” Frank admitted with a small smile.

To his amazement, she smiled back. For a second he was afraid she might start laughing again, but she didn’t. “I think you like things that aren’t easy, Mr. Malloy.”

Frank wasn’t sure what he should say to that. Luckily, Decker saved him from having to think of something. “Perhaps you could arrange for Mr. Malloy to question Roderick and the other servants, Lucretia.”

“Must he do it now? They’ll be no good to anyone for the rest of the day if he upsets them.”

“They’ll be upset when they hear about Chilly anyway,” Decker said. “Might as well get it all over with at once.”

“I’ll ring for the maid.” Paul moved to the bell rope.

“I’ll need a room where I can see them alone,” Frank said.

“The receiving room should do nicely.” Mrs. Devries rose. “I think I shall retire. All of this excitement is bad for my nerves. My doctor told me I should never become upset, you know. It’s the very worst thing when you have bad nerves.”

“I’m sorry to have distressed you, Lucretia,” Decker said, “but someone had to tell you about Chilly. I thought it would be easier from me than from a stranger.”

Paul stepped forward. “You were very kind to come yourself, wasn’t he, Mother? I know the truth of it hasn’t really sunk in for me yet. There’s so much to do, isn’t there? A funeral and…and …” He gestured vaguely.

“We’ll need mourning clothes, I suppose,” his mother said. “I detest wearing black, but there’s no help for it, is there?”

“No, Mother Devries, there’s no help for it.” Garnet sighed again and turned as the maid came in.

Frank waited as Paul told her that Mr. Malloy would like to speak with Roderick in the receiving room, and then he would like to see some of the other servants, too. Roderick would take care of all that. Her eyes were like saucers at the strange request, but, of course, she couldn’t question him. She’d have to wait for the gossip to make its way through the household.