Murder on St. Mark's Place (31 page)

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Authors: Victoria Thompson

BOOK: Murder on St. Mark's Place
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He grabbed her by the arms. He was strong, much stronger than she, but she held on to the sides of the car fiercely as he tried to pry her loose.
“You’ll never get away with it, Dirk! Malloy is down there! He’s watching everything! He’ll know what happened !”
“You’re lying,” he reminded her. “He doesn’t even know we’re here.”
“No, it’s true! He’s been following us since we got here! There was a policeman on the trolley, too! Someone’s been watching us the whole time we’ve been together!”
“There’s no one here now, Sarah.”
He’d pulled one of her hands loose and was using her arm to drag her off the seat, but she’d braced her feet, and he couldn’t budge her.
“Don’t do this, Dirk!” she begged as he reached down and slid his arm beneath her knees. He was going to lift her off the seat! If he did that, she’d be helpless. All he’d have to do was toss her over, and she’d be lost.
As he lifted her legs, releasing the hold her feet had on the floor of the car, she kicked up and the toe of her shoe struck him soundly on the side of his head. He cursed her, rearing back and dropping her legs. The look in his eyes was wild, like an animal cornered and ready to fight for its life. Sarah imagined her eyes must look the same as she screamed Malloy’s name in some vain hope he might be able to do something.
Dirk sneered at her. “It’s over now, Sarah,” he said, and drew back his fist.
Everything seemed to move slowly, as if they were underwater. She saw Dirk’s fist coming toward her, and she knew that when he struck her, she would be helpless. Stunned, she couldn’t resist when he threw her out of the car. Some primal instinct responded, and without thinking, she ducked her head, bending nearly double in the last second before his fist would have slammed into her cheek. In that same instant the whole world jolted, nearly unseating her from the car. If she hadn’t been holding on for dear life, she might very well have gone tumbling to the ground.
Dirk’s cry was a shriek of terror as his body kept going, following his swinging arm, carrying him out of the car into oblivion. Sarah’s instinct was to catch him, but her hands clutched only thin air, and she very nearly fell herself as the car reacted to the loss of Dirk’s weight by swinging violently. Only then did she realize the wheel was moving. The lurch of the start, coming just as he was swinging to hit her, was what had unseated Dirk and sent him toppling from the car.
Seconds later she heard the sickening thud as his body struck the ground beneath the wheel, and the crowd’s anguished reaction. Sarah clasped the side and back of the car, hanging on for her life as the wheel came to another precipitous halt that set her car rocking madly. But someone was yelling down below, giving orders. She recognized the voice, even from way up here near the top of the wheel, and in another moment it started again, lurching like a drunk before falling into the smooth rhythm of the usual ride. It didn’t stop until Sarah’s car was on the loading platform.
Malloy was there. She almost didn’t recognize him because of the ridiculous beard he was wearing, but she knew his voice and responded when he told her to let go, she was safe now. Even still, he practically had to pry her hands loose to get her out.
Only when her feet were firmly planted on solid ground was she able to comprehend what had happened. And what had almost happened.
“Are you all right?” Malloy asked. His arm was around her waist, supporting her as he led her away from the wheel.
“Where is he?” she demanded. “I want to see him.”
“He’s dead,” Malloy said.
But another voice called, “He’s still alive! Somebody get a doctor!”
The words rejuvenated her. All weakness and terror evaporated. She broke from Malloy’s grasp and whirled, searching for the voice. “I’m a nurse!” she called.
Picking up her skirts, she ran back the way she’d come, dodging the descending cars that the ride operator was emptying as quickly as he could.
Dirk’s body lay in the barren, rocky area beneath the wheel, which was barely high enough for a man to stand upright. Several men had gathered around him, but no one was doing anything. Probably they were afraid to touch him, and she could guess why. She could tell from the angle at which he lay that his back was broken. He wasn’t moving, and his breathing was shallow. He was probably going into shock, which would be a mercy. The pain from his injuries must be excruciating. If he could feel anything at all, that is.
“Are you Sarah?” one of the men asked as she approached.
“Yes,” she said.
“He’s asking for you.”
The men stood aside for her. Dirk’s face was twisted and gray, his scalp bloody from a gash. His lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear his words. She knelt beside him, anxious to hear what his last words would be. Would he confess and clear his conscience? She wanted to hear him admit he’d killed Gerda, too, and then this nightmare would be over.
But when she leaned close, he said, “You are another of my mistakes. I can usually tell when they’re going to fight back. I thought I was ready for you.”
“The wheel started moving,” she said. “It unbalanced you.”
“I told them to get you down.” It was Malloy, standing over them. She’d known he wouldn’t be far away. “I saw he was trying to throw you off.”
She cast him a grateful glance. There would be time for proper thanks later. She turned back to Dirk. “Tell me the truth about Gerda, Dirk. At least you’ll die with a clear conscience.”
His lips curved into a grotesque parody of a smile. “I didn’t kill her, Sarah. You’ll have to keep looking.”
She heard Malloy’s reaction, but she didn’t want to waste time filling him in on the whole truth. She had only a few more minutes with Dirk. “Why did you do it, Dirk? Why did you kill the others?”
His smile became a grimace. “Because I could,” he said simply.
“Get back, step back.” The command came from an officious-looking fellow in a bowler hat and a plaid shirt with sleeve garters. He was followed by two men carrying a stretcher. “Out of the way, miss. We’ve got to take him to a doctor.”
“If you move him, he’ll die,” Sarah protested.
“If we don’t move him, he’ll die, too,” the fellow said reasonably. “Better he shouldn’t die in front of all these people.”
“Don’t touch me!” Dirk protested in alarm when the two men laid the stretcher down beside him.
“It’s all right, mister. We’re going to get you some help,” one of them said.
The expression on Dirk’s face was naked terror, the kind Sarah had felt moments before when she had been certain Dirk was going to throw her to her death.
“This is how those women felt, Schyler,” Malloy said to him. “Think about that. The pain and the fear. It isn’t pleasant, is it?”
Dirk didn’t reply because the men were lifting him on the stretcher, and he was screaming in agony. Sarah instinctively moved to help him—although she had no idea how she might have accomplished that—but Malloy held her back as the men carried Dirk away.
“Are you all right, miss?” the short man in the sleeve garters asked. “Did you get hurt at all?”
Sarah hadn’t even considered whether she had or not. “I don’t think so. I was just frightened.”
“How did it happen?” he asked. “I’m the park manager,” he added, in case she thought he was just being nosy.
Sarah thought quickly. She’d have to explain this to many people, Dirk’s family included. She glanced at Malloy. His expression was grave, but he offered no suggestions. “It was a terrible accident,” she said, sickeningly aware that she was quoting Dirk. She didn’t look at Malloy again. If he disapproved, she would never be able to lie convincingly. “Mr. Schyler was acting silly, trying to frighten me, I think. He had an odd sense of humor. The gate came loose and flew open, and just as he tried to reach for it to pull it back, the wheel started to move, and he lost his balance.”
“You sure he didn’t jump on purpose? A lot of them does, you know,” the man said by way of apology for asking.
“If he’d wanted to commit suicide, he hardly would’ve taken a lady up to accompany him, now would he?” Malloy pointed out.
“I suppose not,” the man allowed. “I just don’t want nobody telling the newspapers he jumped. It gives all the crazy ones ideas. Gives the park a bad name, too.”
“No one will say he jumped,” Sarah assured him.
The man sighed. “Is he your husband or something?”
“Just a family friend,” Sarah said. “I should go with him, though. Where are they taking him?”
“To a doctor down on Surf Avenue.”
“I’ll take her,” Malloy said. “How do we get there?”
The park manager had one of his men drive them in a park wagon. As they made their way through the crowded streets, Sarah thought of Dirk’s broken body being subjected to the jostling of a wagon ride, and winced. Malloy would say it was no more than he deserved, and Sarah knew he was probably right. Still, the thought of anyone suffering so horribly sickened her.
“What were you thinking to go up on the Ferris wheel with him?” Malloy demanded as the wagon jounced along. He sounded angry.
“I was thinking we would have a lovely ride,” she replied defensively. “He’d managed to convince me he was innocent, you see.”
“You confronted him?” Malloy was incredulous.
“I’m not sure you’d call it that, exactly. We were talking, and I let him know that all the murdered girls knew a man named Will and that we knew he was that man.”
“Did you think he’d just break down bawling and beg you to absolve him?” He was angry again.
“No,” she said, becoming annoyed. “I thought he’d get angry and betray himself.”
“But he didn’t.”
Sarah sighed over her own nalvete. “He was much too clever for me. He asked me the date of Gerda’s murder, and he had an alibi for it, one we could easily check.”
“You couldn’t have checked it if you were dead,” he pointed out. “Which is exactly what he had planned. Didn’t it ever occur to you that he was lying through his teeth just to get you to let down your guard?”
“Of course it didn’t, or I wouldn’t have gone on the Ferris wheel with him!” she snapped. It occurred to Sarah that they were probably giving the driver enough gossip for the rest of the season, but she couldn’t help that.
Malloy frowned inside the awful-looking beard. “But you did get him to confess, finally?”
“Yes, I think ... I think he wanted to brag. He must have wanted someone to know about his successes, even if I’d only know for a few moments before he killed me. He said he’d killed the other girls. And Lisle. I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life. But he swears he didn’t kill Gerda. That was the one he had the alibi for.”
“Probably he was lying. He knew that was the one you cared most about. He was just trying to torment you.”
“I cared about Lisle, too, but he readily confessed to killing her. No, I’m afraid he might be telling the truth. He said he was at a party with a group of men. They’ll be able to tell us if he was or not. Then we’ll know for sure.”
Malloy sighed his disgust. They rode in silence for another block before he said, “Are you going to be all right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Malloy’s concern was gruff but sincere. It almost undid her. “He was going to throw me off the Ferris wheel, Malloy ! In front of all those people.”
“He might’ve managed to convince everyone it was an accident, too. Nobody would believe he’d do something so brazen. Would your family have wanted an investigation?”
“Certainly not,” she said, knowing it was true. They would have mourned her for the rest of their lives, but they never would have been able to accept that her death had been anything but mischance. They wouldn’t be able to believe someone like Dirk, a gentleman of their own class, capable of a heinous crime. “And the worst part is, he would’ve been free to keep on killing.”
“Didn’t you tell him I was watching?” Malloy wasn’t going to let this alone.
“He ... he thought I was lying.”
Mercifully, Malloy didn’t question her further on that point. She didn’t want to have to admit she’d let Dirk believe she was unprotected.
The wagon stopped in front of an unassuming house set back a little from the avenue. “This is where they took him,” the driver said. Was he looking at them strangely? Sarah wished she could say something to reassure him, but that wasn’t possible.
Malloy helped her down from the seat and slipped some coins to the driver, asking him to wait for them.
Inside they found the doctor looking grim. “You his family?”
“No, just ... just a friend,” Sarah said, almost choking on the word.
“I’m sorry. Wasn’t anything I could do. He was near dead when he got here. I gave him something for the pain so he didn’t suffer too much at the end.”
Malloy made a rude noise, which the doctor obviously mistook for grief. He murmured some condolences, which Malloy ignored.
“What arrangements do you want to make for the body? It won’t keep long in this heat,” he added apologetically.
“I’ll inform his family when I get back to the city,” Sarah said. “I’m sure they’ll send for the body immediately. Can you keep it until then?”
A few moments later Sarah and Malloy were back in the waiting wagon. Malloy told the driver to take them to the trolley station. At Sarah’s questioning look, he said, “There’s nothing else we can do here, is there?”
She had to agree.
 
M
ALLOY HADN’T WANTED Sarah to visit Dirk’s family alone. He thought this was a police matter and that he should be the one to notify them. Sarah had argued that it wasn’t a police matter unless he was going to charge someone with murder, and since the suspect was dead, he wasn’t likely to do that. Sarah saw no need to blacken the name of the entire Schyler family by accusing their son of murder when he wasn’t able to defend himself. In fact, doing so would only bring down the very considerable wrath of that family and all their friends and relations. Malloy didn’t need that any more than Sarah did. Justice had been served with Dirk’s death, and they would have to be satisfied that they were the only ones who knew it.

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