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Authors: Victoria Thompson

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BOOK: Murder on Lexington Avenue
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“She doesn’t want you upset.”
“I’m already upset! Brother is dead!” she wailed.
“Dr. Smith left some medicine for her,” Mrs. Parmer said to Sarah.
“No! I don’t want to go to sleep!” Electra protested. “I won’t take it! I want to see Mr. Malloy.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as he gets here,” Sarah promised.
One of the maids knocked on the door, and when Mrs. Parmer bade her enter, she said, “I know you’re not receiving, but there’s a gentleman here to see Miss Electra, and he won’t go away until I tell her.”
Electra stiffened at this news and unfolded herself, putting her feet back on the floor.
“A gentleman?” Mrs. Parmer was saying. “Who is he?”
“He wouldn’t give his name. He said he’s Miss Electra’s teacher.”
Electra was on her feet now and moving toward the door. Before she could reach it, a man came in. It was the fellow Sarah had seen arguing with Leander at the funeral.
“Adam!” Electra said joyously, hurrying to meet him.
12
T
HIS TIME FRANK STARTED AT THE BOTTOM OF THE LIST Mrs. Parmer had given him of Leander’s friends. He already knew the first two young men on that list hadn’t seen Leander and claimed not to know where he’d gone on Tuesday night.
The hour was early for young men who had spent most of the night out on the town, but Frank managed to frighten the servants at each house into waking their young masters. The first two he visited knew no more than the ones he had visited last night, so Frank didn’t hold out much hope for this last one.
Nathan Parkhurst was a handsome young fellow, or he would have been if he’d taken the time to shave and comb his hair. He was glaring at Frank through bloodshot eyes as he entered the parlor where the maid had directed Frank to wait.
“The girl said something’s happened to Leander Wooten,” he said in a tone that indicated he held Frank personally responsible for such an outrage.
“I’m sorry to inform you that Mr. Wooten was killed in the Bowery on Tuesday evening.”
Parkhurst stared at him stupidly, rubbing his head as if trying to wake up his brain to comprehend what Frank had just told him. “
Leander
Wooten? Are you sure?”
“His aunt, Mrs. Parmer, identified him.”
This was even more incomprehensible. “In the Bowery, you say?”
“Yes, in an alley next to a saloon called the Grey Goose. I know young men from good families sometimes go down to the Bowery on a lark. Did you and Leander ever—”
“Oh, yes,” Parkhurst said, obviously happy to have a subject he knew something about. “We’ve done that, but not for weeks now and never
alone
! That would be foolish!”
“Very foolish,” Frank said, thinking of Leander with his pockets turned out and his head bashed in. “Did you ever go to the Grey Goose?”
“I don’t remember it, but we could have. One never pays attention to the name of the place.”
Frank thought that very likely. “Can you think of anybody who might’ve gone out with Leander that night besides the names on this list?” He showed Mrs. Parmer’s list to the young man.
He shook his head. “Tuesday night, did you say? Wasn’t that the day of the funeral?”
“Yes, it was.”
Parkhurst frowned. “If he’d asked one of us to go with him, we would’ve turned him down. Not proper and all that. Maybe he was just feeling low and needed some fun.” But even Parkhurst didn’t look like he believed that.
“Would he have gone with a girl he met in one of those places?”
Parkhurst looked at him as if he were insane. “And risk a case of the clap? Not likely! That’s not the worst of it either. They all have pimps who try to run some game on you. Like they burst in at the worst possible moment and pretend to be the girl’s outraged husband who’s going to bring charges against you unless you pay him some outrageous sum.”
“Or the panel game,” Frank offered, “where he’s hiding behind a panel, and while you’re busy with the girl, he opens the panel and gets your wallet out of your pants that are hanging on a chair.”
“I didn’t know about that one!” Parkhurst exclaimed.
“There’s a lot of them. Just steer clear of the Bowery from now on.”
“After what happened to Leander, I think we all will!” Parkhurst vowed.
“So you think Leander wasn’t likely to have gone off with some girl, then.”
“Not if he was sober enough to be thinking straight. Of course, if he was drowning his sorrows, who knows?”
Frank would have to find out how heavily Leander was drinking that night. “Can you think of any other reason Wooten might have gone to the Bowery alone on the night of his father’s funeral?” he asked one last time in desperation.
Parkhurst shook his head, rubbing it as he had before, as if to stimulate his brain to work harder. “Unless . . .”
“Unless what?” Frank asked eagerly.
“Unless it had something to do with his sister. He’d run into a burning building for his sister.”
“The Bowery isn’t a burning building,” Frank said.
“But it’s dangerous, isn’t it?” Parkhurst reasoned.
“His sister wasn’t in the Bowery,” Frank said. “She was at home, safe and sound.”
“Then there was no reason for Leander to be out, was there?”
Frank was very much afraid this was true.
 
 
A
DAM OLDHAM STOPPED JUST SHORT OF TAKING ELECtra in his arms, although Sarah could see that was what they both wanted. The longing in Electra’s beautiful eyes was startling. Oldham, on the other hand, simply looked desperate.
He began to move his hands, speaking to her in the language only she could understand.
“What is he doing here?” Mrs. Parmer demanded. “What is he saying to her?”
Sarah, of course, had no idea.
Electra was signing, replying to whatever he had said to her, and paying no attention to her aunt.
Mrs. Parmer went to Electra and took her by the arm, capturing her attention. Electra turned to her impatiently. “What does he want?”
“He heard about Leander,” she said. “He came to comfort me.”
“How did he hear about Leander?” Sarah asked, but of course Electra couldn’t hear her.
Mrs. Parmer relayed the question, since she had Electra’s attention.
“He saw the newspaper this morning,” the girl said.
“Good heavens, could it be in the newspaper already?” Mrs. Parmer asked Sarah.
“If someone at the morgue told a reporter last night,” Sarah said. “I believe they pay for tips like that.”
“How horrible,” Mrs. Parmer murmured. Then she noticed that Oldham and Electra were signing to each other again. “What is he saying?” she demanded when she’d captured Electra’s attention again.
“None of your business,” the girl said defiantly.
“It most certainly is my business!” Mrs. Parmer informed her. “You are still a child, Electra, and it’s my responsibility to protect you.”
“I don’t need to be protected from Adam,” she said. Oldham touched her arm and signed a question. He probably wanted to know what Mrs. Parmer was saying. Electra answered him.
“Stop that!” Mrs. Parmer said in frustration. “I can’t have you conversing with this man unless I know what you’re talking about!”
“Adam can’t speech-read, and he can’t speak,” Electra said, just as frustrated. “How else is he supposed to talk to me?”
“He’s not supposed to talk to you at all!” Mrs. Parmer said. “I distinctly heard Leander say he wasn’t welcome here any longer.”
“Leander is dead,” Electra said, her voice catching on the tears she was fighting. “He can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
Sarah was trying not to interfere, but she could see that someone needed to. “Perhaps if Electra could tell you what they are saying when they sign,” she suggested.
Mrs. Parmer frowned. “She doesn’t have to tell us the truth,” she pointed out.
No, she didn’t, Sarah thought, then she remembered something else. “He wrote in a notebook when he was talking to Leander.”
Electra had been following this conversation, and she quickly signed something to Oldham.
The look he gave Sarah was usually reserved for meddling busybodies. Sarah had seen it before. But he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a notebook and a pencil and held them up rather defiantly for Sarah to see.
Sarah gave him a look to rival the one he’d given her.
“You could sit on the sofa,” Sarah quickly suggested, “with Mrs. Parmer in the middle so she can see what each of you is writing.”
Electra didn’t like that arrangement at all, but she interpreted it to Oldham, who nodded his agreement. The three of them trooped to the sofa and Oldham waited until the two ladies were seated before taking his place beside Mrs. Parmer.
Sarah knew she should probably leave them to it, but she was much too curious to go voluntarily. Instead, she took a seat out of their line of sight in hopes they would forget she was there.
Oldham wrote something and showed it to Mrs. Parmer, who said, “You’re welcome,” before remembering Oldham couldn’t read what she was saying, only what she wrote. She took the pencil from him and wrote her reply. Apparently, he had thanked her for not throwing him out.
Thus began their strange conversation. Sarah realized that eavesdropping here was a waste of her time. Except for an occasional murmur from Mrs. Parmer, no words were spoken, and she couldn’t see what they were writing.
Mrs. Parmer read what each of them wrote as they did so, then passed the notebook to the other to read and reply.
“A very nice sentiment,” Mrs. Parmer remarked at one point when observing Oldham’s progress. Then later, “Electra, you cannot say that to a gentleman,” and she tore the page from the notebook and crumpled it in her fist, refusing to relent even when Electra pouted.
After that, Oldham and Mrs. Parmer had an exchange of messages that weren’t passed to Electra, although the girl was straining to read them over Mrs. Parmer’s arm. Sarah could see Mrs. Parmer’s manner changing ever so slightly during this conversation. She no longer seemed quite as protective, and by the end of it, she was actually smiling at Oldham. Even more importantly, he was smiling back, and Adam Oldham’s smile was, Sarah realized, something few women could resist.
She remembered what Malloy had told her about all the females at Brian’s school being in love with him—even Malloy’s own mother. Now she understood why. He was using his considerable charm to soften Mrs. Parmer’s disapproval. If she was so easily won, Mrs. Wooten—who was the only remaining authority over Electra’s future—would stand no chance at all. Electra’s only concern would be if Mrs. Wooten decided she wanted Oldham for herself!
Although Electra seemed annoyed that her aunt was monopolizing her communication with Oldham, even she was smiling by the end of the visit. Something to which her aunt had agreed pleased her very much.
Oldham took Mrs. Parmer’s hand and bowed over it formally as he took his leave. Then he took Electra’s hand in his right and made a small, quick sign with his left that brought the color flooding to Electra’s cheeks. It was the same sign Sarah had seen him make to Electra on the day of the funeral that had made her so happy.
This time, Mrs. Parmer had seen it, too. “What did that mean?” she asked Electra suspiciously.
“He was just telling me good-bye,” she said blithely.
Mrs. Parmer was right. Electra would lie about what the signs meant if she didn’t want them to know.
 
 
A
FTER LEAVING THE PARKHURST HOUSE, FRANK REALIZED he needed to get to Mr. Colyer before it got too late in the day. He still needed to call on Sarah before returning to the Bowery later that evening to see if anyone remembered seeing Leander the night he was killed.
To Frank’s surprise, the clerk at the front desk greeted him by name, as if he’d been expected.
“Mr. Malloy, Mr. Decker would like to see you. He left instructions that he was to be interrupted no matter what he was doing when you arrived.”
Frank couldn’t help the feeling of foreboding that came over him. How often had he been left kicking his heels, waiting for the great man to find time for him even when he’d had an appointment? Sarah’s father had no love for his daughter’s policeman friend. Decker probably wanted to rake him over the coals for asking his head accountant to do a favor for the police. He should have taken the ledger somewhere else.
By the time the clerk came back to escort him up to Decker’s office, Frank was fuming and mentally composing a defense that would absolve Colyer of any blame Decker tried to impose on him.
Decker’s office wasn’t at all what Frank had expected on his first visit here. The room was comfortably but not extravagantly furnished, and everything looked slightly worn, as if it had been there a long time but the occupant saw no reason to replace it unless it was truly worn out.
To Frank’s surprise, Colyer was already in Decker’s office, standing behind Decker’s desk, just to Decker’s right. To Frank’s great relief, Colyer’s expression was solemn, but he showed no indication he had been chastened in any way.
“Mr. Malloy,” Decker said by way of greeting. “You caused Mr. Colyer quite a bit of concern.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Frank said honestly. “And I never intended for you to be bothered, Mr. Decker. I hope I didn’t cause trouble for anybody.”
Decker exchanged a glance with Colyer, but Frank had no idea what silent message was exchanged. “Mr. Colyer said my daughter had suggested consulting him.”
Frank also didn’t want to get Sarah in trouble. “I didn’t know what the numbers meant, and she said if anybody could make sense of them, it would be Mr. Colyer.”
“She remembered I used to give her peppermints when she was a girl,” Colyer said to Decker with a small smile, and Frank relaxed. Frank might be in trouble, but Colyer wasn’t.
BOOK: Murder on Lexington Avenue
10.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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