“I know your secret,” Sarah said to Alberta, ignoring Reed’s defense.
“Wh . . . what secret?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, her face splotching red again.
“I’m a midwife, Alberta,” Sarah reminded her gently.
Alberta instinctively laid a hand on her abdomen, as if to protect her unborn child, while Reed struggled to his feet, instinctively wanting to protect the woman he loved. “I must insist you stop upsetting Miss Van Dyke. She’s not well, and her father’s death has been a terrible shock to her.”
“What were you going to do, Alberta? Would your father have allowed you to marry Mr. Reed, or were you planning to elope?”
Alberta was shaking her head wordlessly, and Reed took her arm and eased her down onto the sofa again.
Reed looked up at Sarah, with an angry frown. “He told me he’d ruin me if I ever tried to see Bertie again.”
“He would have made me get rid of the baby, if he’d known,” Alberta said, tears glistening in her eyes. “He never would’ve allowed us to marry. Thank God he’s dead.”
FRANK FOUND THE OFFICES OF VAN DYKE AND SNOWBERGER filled with the sounds of the repairs being made to Van Dyke’s ruined office. A glance inside that room told him the workmen had removed the worst of the debris of the explosion and were replacing the blown-out windows. He moved on to Snowberger’s office. The surviving partner didn’t look happy to see him when his secretary showed Frank in.
“I hope you’re here to tell me you’ve arrested some anarchists,” he said without bothering with a greeting.
“Not yet,” Frank said, taking a seat and making himself comfortable. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
“I don’t know anything about anarchists,” Snowberger said irritably “You’d do better to find Creighton Van Dyke. He’s intimately acquainted with them.” He smiled at his own pun.
Frank didn’t return it. “I’m not so sure anarchists killed Mr. Van Dyke.”
“That’s absurd. Of course they did. They’re the only ones who use bombs.”
“Unless somebody knew Creighton was involved with anarchists and wanted to cast suspicion on them,” Frank pointed out.
“That’s a pretty elaborate theory, Malloy. Someone would have had to do a considerable amount of planning, which means he must have hated Gregory quite a bit. I can’t imagine Gregory ever inspired that kind of hatred.”
“Can’t you?” Frank asked with interest. “I’ve already managed to find several people who hated him that much, and I’ve just started looking.”
Snowberger frowned. He didn’t like the way the conversation was going. “That’s very interesting, but if you’ve found people like that, why aren’t you out questioning them? You’re wasting your time here.”
“Not if you’re one of those people, Mr. Snowberger,” Frank said mildly. “I understand Mr. Van Dyke had allowed you to lose a lot of money in a business deal.”
“Who told you that?” Snowberger tried, pretending to be puzzled.
“Several people who wouldn’t lie about it,” Frank said. “People who believed he did it deliberately, too.”
Snowberger didn’t look worried. “My partner and I have been friends our entire lives, Detective. I can’t believe he would do such a thing deliberately.”
“I think you can,” Frank disagreed, even though he knew he was tempting fate. If Snowberger complained to Roosevelt about his methods, his career could be over. “We both know why your partner bore you a grudge, and we both know he arranged for you to lose a large amount of money on a failed business deal. This would’ve given you a good reason to want revenge.”
“Mr. Malloy,” Snowberger said, managing to sound merely annoyed and not furious, “I believe I already told you that businessmen don’t resort to murder in order to settle disagreements.”
“Yes, you did say that. What I need to know is what you did resort to in order to settle this disagreement with Mr. Van Dyke.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Snowberger tried. He was good at bluffing.
“That’s funny. The people I talked to said you were proud of what you’d done to get even with him. You even bragged that Van Dyke wouldn’t be able to retaliate. Mr. Snowberger, if you convince me that you settled the score with Mr. Van Dyke over that business deal, you wouldn’t have had a motive for killing him, and I can let you get back to your work.”
Snowberger wanted to send Frank to perdition. He hated having a lowly policeman threaten him, especially with something so effective, but he couldn’t refuse to cooperate without casting suspicion on himself. That made him even angrier. “You force me to be indiscreet, Mr. Malloy,” he said, holding on to his temper with difficulty.
“No one else needs to know what happened, Mr. Snowberger. I’d just like to cross you off my list once and for all.”
The request was too reasonable to refuse, even though he hated Frank for making it. “I’m afraid I seduced Mrs. Van Dyke.”
AS SARAH CHANGED REED’S BANDAGE, SHE COULDN’T help thinking it was a good thing she knew the killer had been outside in the alley, pulling the wire, when the bomb exploded. Reed had an excellent reason for wanting his employer dead, but if he was at his desk, getting hit by a door, he couldn’t be the killer.
She glanced over at where Alberta sat, watching anxiously as Sarah tended the man she loved “What are you planning to do now?” she asked her friend.
Alberta looked up, her expression determined. “We’ll marry as soon as possible,” she said. Normally, marriages didn’t take place during the one-year mourning period after a family member died. “Everyone will be scandalized, of course, but when the baby comes, they’ll have something new to talk about, and they’ll forget all about it.”
Sarah finished with the bandage and snipped off the loose ends with scissors. “Will you continue to work for the company, Mr. Reed?”
He didn’t look as confident as Alberta. “If Mr. Snowberger will have me.”
“I’ve told Lewis we can probably live on my inheritance,” Alberta explained, “Father would’ve left me a small income, at least. He would have considered it pin money, but I’m sure we could support ourselves modestly with it.”
“That’s your money, Bertie,” he scolded her gently. “I’m perfectly capable of supporting you myself.”
Yes, Sarah thought, now that Van Dyke wasn’t around to make sure he never got another job. “Is there any reason Mr. Snowberger might let you go?”
Reed’s expression was troubled, but he only said, “He might want to make some changes . . . And technically, I did work for Mr. Van Dyke.”
“Even if he does let you go, you could find another job easily,” Alberta assured him. “Anyone would be glad to have someone of your abilities.” She turned to Sarah. “Mr. Reed is extremely clever. Father put him in charge of preparing all the financial reports for the company. He trusted Lewis to make sure every dollar was properly accounted for.”
“Bertie, Mrs. Brandt isn’t interested in my accomplishments,” Reed said with a fond smile.
Alberta’s cheeks colored becomingly, but she ignored his request. “He’s also very progressive and modern. He convinced Father to electrify the office building, and then he oversaw the workers when they installed the wiring. The workers said they thought he knew more about it than they did!”
Sarah nodded approvingly. “If he’s clever enough to understand electricity, I doubt you’ll ever have to worry about him finding employment, Alberta.”
Suddenly, the door flew open, and Lilly Van Dyke stormed into the room. “Why are you still here, Mr. Reed?” she demanded. “I’m sure my husband would never have approved your visiting here, and he most certainly would never have allowed you to remain overnight.”
“He was ill,” Alberta protested. “He needed medical attention.”
“Medical attention?” Lilly mocked. “Since when are you qualified to give medical attention?” Then she glanced at Sarah and down a
t the tray of supplies the maid had brought for her. “Oh, well, I see Mrs. Brandt has taken good care of you, Mr. Reed. I trust you will instruct him to return to his home now,” she added to Sarah. “It’s really the best place for him.”
Sarah bit back an evil smile. “I’m afraid Alberta was quite right to insist Mr. Reed stay here last night. It was very dangerous for him to come in the first place, of course, but we can’t fault him for his dedication to his employer. Since he is here now, we also can’t permit him to put his life in danger again by leaving. He needs peace and quiet and rest for at least a week before he can be moved.”
“A week!” Lilly fairly shrieked.
“Perhaps longer, depending on how quickly he recovers,” Sarah said gravely.
Alberta coughed suspiciously into her handkerchief, and Mr. Reed had to cover his mouth.
“What will people think if we keep him here?” Lilly demanded. “He’s Gregory’s secretary!”
“They’ll think you’re a kind, Christian woman,” Sarah said. “Why, Mr. Reed might’ve been killed along with your husband, yet his first thought was for Mr. Van Dyke’s family. He risked his own health and perhaps his life to be of service to you.”
Lilly glanced at Reed, as if trying to reconcile his meek appearance with the hero Sarah was describing. “We could send him home in the carriage,” she tried. “I’d instruct them to drive very slowly.”
“Even that might cause him to have a brain hemorrhage,” Sarah said. “But don’t worry, I’ll instruct Alberta in how to care for Mr. Reed’s wound. You won’t have to be bothered at all.”
Still unhappy, Lilly could think of no more objections to make, but she turned to Alberta. “Don’t make a nuisance of yourself with Mr. Reed, Alberta. I’m sure he only wants peace and quiet while he recovers.” With that she swept out of the room, mumbling something about still not knowing what she would say to people.
“A brain hemorrhage?” Reed asked with a frown as Alberta hurried to his side.
“I made that up,” Sarah assured him. “And now you can tell everyone that you fell in love while Alberta was nursing you back to health.”
“Oh, Sarah, how can we ever thank you?” Alberta asked.
Sarah smiled at the two of them. “Just be happy.”
FRANK STARED AT SNOWBERGER INCREDULOUSLY. “YOU seduced Lilly Van Dyke?” he asked to clarify. If Snowberger had seduced the first and late Mrs. Van Dyke, that would be something else entirely.
Snowberger nodded reluctantly.
“Did Mr. Van Dyke know?”
“That was the whole point, Mr. Malloy,” he said testily. “He had to know that I’d gotten even with him in a way he could never avenge.”
Frank considered this for a long moment. “Mr. Snowberger, you have just given yourself an excellent motive for killing your partner.”
“What?” he demanded, as if he really didn’t know.
“You had an affair with your partner’s wife. Whose idea was it to get rid of Van Dyke so the two of you could be together?”
Frank braced himself for the explosion of rage. Snowberger stared at him in shock for a long moment, but when the explosion came, it wasn’t rage.
Snowberger burst out laughing.
Frank watched as this man who probably hadn’t laughed out loud in years threw back his head and fairly roared with hilarity. His secretary came rushing into the room to see what was wrong, and Snowberger waved him away as he tried to get control of himself again.
“Oh, Malloy, that’s a good one. Haven’t heard anything so funny in years!” He chuckled for another minute or two, wiping tears from his eyes, before he could catch his breath and regain his composure.
Frank could only stare at him in amazement. When Snowberger was finally calm again, Frank said, “Exactly what did I say that was so funny?”
Snowberger shook his head, still smiling. “That I would kill for Lilly. First of all, we didn’t have an affair. I said I seduced her, and I did, once, and once was quite enough. A more tedious woman, I’ve never met. The thought of being forced to spend any more time with her is appalling to me, and I can assure you, if I never see her again, it will be too soon.”
“But you made sure her husband knew she’d been unfaithful.”
“Yes, in order to infuriate him. Please don’t imagine I have tender feelings for her or any feelings at all, for that matter. As for having a reason to kill poor Gregory, I wanted him alive and well for many years to come. He wouldn’t dare divorce Lilly because he’d have to accuse her of adultery. That would make him a laughingstock. No man wants the world to know he couldn’t hold on to his young, beautiful wife. So he’d have to live with her and treat her as his wife for as long as he lived, but all the time he’d know she’d betrayed him with me.”
“You must’ve hated him a lot.”
“Hated him? You can’t even imagine,” Snowberger said, warming to the subject now that he’d finally admitted the truth. “We’d been rivals all of our lives. Our fathers were best friends. They started this business and raised us to know we’d inherit it. They took joy in comparing us in everything we did, and we spent our childhoods trying to win our fathers’ favor by besting each other in school and sports and later in business.”
“You even fell in love with the same woman,” Frank reminded him.
“I told you, I don’t have any feelings at all for Lilly, and I don’t think Gregory really did, either.”
“I didn’t mean Van Dyke’s wife. I was talking about your wife.”
This time Snowberger did get mad. “Don’t you dare speak of her. She has nothing to do with this.”
“Doesn’t she? I thought Van Dyke blamed you for her death.”
Snowberger controlled his anger better than he had his amusement. “He blamed me for everything that ever happened to her. She was very fragile, and her health was never good. The doctor recommended she spend the winter in the south of France . . . But why am I explaining myself to you? The truth is that Gregory was jealous of me and had been since we were boys. When Arabella chose me over him, he dedicated himself to making her regret her choice by trying to make me look foolish every chance he got.”
“Like the investment he tricked you into making,” Frank guessed.
“Only the last in a long line of humiliations. He’d already set that plan in motion before Arabella died, and I think he took special pleasure in causing me embarrassment on top of my grief.”
“So you came up with a plan of your own,” Frank said.
“He wasn’t likely to fall for the kind of trick he’d pulled on me, and the only thing he truly valued anymore was his bride. He’d taken her to prove he was still vital enough to win the affections of a young, beautiful woman, even though everyone knew he’d practically blackmailed her father to force the marriage.”
“Didn’t you feel the least bit guilty seducing another man’s wife?” Frank asked, taunting him to betray himself.
“I wasn’t the first, Mr. Malloy,” Snowberger said, not the least bit angry now. “Lilly Van Dyke is a trollop. Gregory didn’t know, of course. He’d have locked her away in the country if he had. I didn’t compromise Lilly’s virtue, because she doesn’t have any. I merely took a turn, and then made sure Gregory found out. So you see, we were even. More than even, in fact. I expect Gregory was a little afraid of me after that.”
“Why would he be afraid?” Frank asked, hoping for any hint Snowberger might be guilty after all.
“Because with Arabella dead, Gregory knew I no longer had anything worth losing.”
“You didn’t mind losing money?” Frank asked skeptically.
“I can always make more,” Snowberger said, dismissing the threat with a wave of his hand. “The only reason the money ever mattered at all was because it gave Gregory a way to make me look foolish in front of Arabella. Without that, he had nothing.”
Frank considered everything Snowberger had told him. The story had the ring of truth, and Snowberger had no reason
to make up such an unflattering story about himself, in any case. Still, one thing didn’t make sense.
“Mr. Van Dyke told people that the two of you had made up your argument, and that you were on good terms again.”
Snowberger frowned. “We’d never been on good terms before, so I’m not sure how he’d accomplish that. He hadn’t apologized to me, and I doubt he ever would have, especially after finding out about Lilly, and I certainly hadn’t made any overtures to him.”
“Then why would he have bought you a gift?”
“A gift?” Now Snowberger was really puzzled. “What kind of gift?”
“A very expensive bottle of French brandy,” Frank said. “He told everyone it was for you, to settle your argument once and for all.”
Snowberger considered this for a moment. “I do have a weakness for French brandy, but I can’t imagine . . . Unless he was planning to break it over my head,” he said with a hint of a smile. “What happened to it? I’d hate to see good brandy go to waste, and I know no one at Van Dyke’s house would appreciate it.”
“It blew up in the explosion.”
Snowberger winced in genuine pain at the loss. “Pity.”
“We think that’s why Mr. Van Dyke was opening his liquor cabinet that morning,” Frank explained. “He’d brought it to work with him, and he must’ve been putting it in there for safekeeping.”
“Poor bastard,” Snowberger said with a sigh. “That’s a horrible way to die, no matter how much he might’ve deserved it.”
Frank knew he’d already stretched his luck as far as it would go with Snowberger. After the questions he’d asked, he was fortunate the other man hadn’t thrown him bodily out of his office and threatened to get him fired from the police force. He still could, of course, if Frank didn’t get out while he was still in a sympathetic frame of mind.
Frank rose from his chair. “Thank you for answering my questions, Mr. Snowberger.”
Snowberger allowed himself a satisfied smile. “My pleasure, Mr. Malloy. I enjoyed your speculations. They were quite entertaining.”
Murder on Marble Row Page 18