by Rhys Bowen
“I’m glad this isn’t our actual honeymoon,” Daniel muttered. “It would be one hell of a way to start our marriage, wouldn’t it?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I whispered. “Rather romantic, if you ask me.”
“If you don’t mind this dratted straw scratching and tickling and the wind whistling through the cracks in the door.”
“I know a way to take your mind off it.” I nuzzled against him. Daniel needed no second invitation.
* * *
I awoke to a shaft of bright sunlight falling on me and to a vast figure standing over me.
“Holy mother of God!” a voice muttered. “What have we here? Gypsies? How in heaven’s name did you get onto the property? Go on, be off with you immediately before I call the police.”
Daniel sat up, eyeing the figure blearily. “Good morning,” he said. “I take it that you’re the housekeeper, and I also take it that you’re either deaf or a sound sleeper.”
“What for the love of Mike are you blathering about?” She spoke with a thick Irish brogue, sounding almost like a vaudeville stage Irishwoman.
I was now awake enough to notice that she was a large elderly woman dressed entirely in black, and she was standing with her hands on her hips.
“Only that we stood hammering at the front door last night and nobody let us in,” Daniel said. “So we had to resort to sleeping in the barn.”
The woman removed her hands from her hips and raised them in a gesture of horror. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! Don’t tell me that you’re Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan.”
“We are indeed,” Daniel said. “So you were expecting us. And yet the gate was locked and nobody answered our knocking on the front door. A fine welcome if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“God forgive me,” she said. “I waited for you until past nine o’clock and then I didn’t think you would possibly come so late and in that storm. I’d been told to expect you early afternoon, so I assumed you’d been delayed and would be arriving today. So I locked up as usual. I don’t sleep on the premises while the family is not here, you see. I go back to my own little house in town. And the master is very particular about everything being locked safely for the night.”
I sat up too, aware that I probably looked somewhat immodest with my legs showing below Daniel’s nightshirt. “So you’re telling us that that there was nobody in the house last night? But I saw a face at the window—a child’s face.”
“A child’s face?” I saw the color drain from her cheeks as she gave me a momentary look of alarm. Then she forced a smile. “It must have been a trick of the light, my dear. There’s nobody in the house. Certainly no children. But where are my manners?” She became spritely again. “I’m Mrs. McCreedy. And it’s a terrible welcome to Connemara you’ve had. Let me take you to your quarters and I’ll cook you a nice hot breakfast.”
She stepped outside discreetly while we tried to locate enough items of dry clothing to dress ourselves, then we followed her past the looming rough stone walls of the castle and down a path to a small cottage nestled among trees. What’s more it looked like my definition of a cottage this time, whitewashed and thatch roofed, just as one would find in Ireland. The trees that surrounded it were already turning gold and red so that it made a charming picture with the blue ocean beyond. I gave a little gasp of pleasure.
“Reminds you of home does it?” the woman said. “I know. I get quite homesick myself every time I look at it. I’m from Galway myself, and I can hear that you’re from that part of Ireland too.”
“A village near Westport,” I agreed. “And Alderman Hannan must be from the region himself if he called his home Connemara.”
“He is indeed,” the woman said. “The family fled from Galway in the great potato famine. He came to America as a young child. Both his parents died when he was twelve years old and he’s been supporting the family ever since. I wouldn’t say he’d done badly for someone who came with nothing, would you?”
I turned back to look at the castle. In daylight it was not quite so foreboding, but it had been definitely built to look like an old bastion, such as one would see in the Irish countryside. The walls were of rough-hewn stone, partly covered with ivy and Virginia creeper that had turned to a delightful shade of red. The windows were arched and recessed, there were crenellated battlements along the roof and in the corner a turret rose—with a window in it. A window at which I could swear a child’s face had appeared last night. All around it were perfectly manicured grounds, with stands of trees, flower beds, a tennis court, an ornamental fountain. The whole scene was framed by blue ocean beyond.
“The grounds are beautiful,” I said. “I’m not sure it would be my choice of house.”
“Nor mine,” she said. “I’d go for comfort myself and the way the wind whistles down those high hallways in winter makes the place impossible to heat.”
Daniel, I noticed, had not been contributing to the conversation. I suspected he did not like being caught out in such a disheveled state. His pride and dignity had been hurt and they were important to him. The housekeeper seemed to realize at the same moment that she and I had been ignoring Daniel. She turned back to him. “So you’re a friend of the alderman are you, sir?”
“Not a friend but the alderman and I are acquainted. And when he heard that our honeymoon had been ruined, he was kind enough to offer me the use of this place.”
The woman’s face broke into a smile. “Oh, yes, he’s a kind and generous man. As softhearted as they come when he wants to be, although I hear that in business he’s as ruthless as a tiger.”
“Is he now?” Daniel said.
We had reached the front door of the cottage.
“And it is your honeymoon too. Fancy that,” Mrs. McCreedy said. “Well, that nasty old storm has passed now. You can set about enjoying yourselves.” She opened the front door and stood aside for us to step into the hallway. The house certainly didn’t smell like a cottage from home. For one thing there was no lingering smell of peat fire, nor that combination of damp and furniture polish that one equates with old houses. This was a new house made to look old, which was confirmed when Mrs. McCreedy said, “You’ll no doubt be wanting a bath. There’s a lovely bathroom upstairs with the bedrooms. And plenty of hot water too.”
We needed no second urging. Half an hour later we came downstairs looking civilized to find eggs and bacon waiting for us. The horrors of the night before were forgotten.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” she said, wiping down her apron and giving a satisfied nod. “The larder should be well stocked, but if you need anything I’ll be up at the big house. They’ll all be coming this weekend so there’s plenty to be done with bedrooms to be aired out and supplies to be brought.”
“‘They’ll all be coming’?” I asked. “The alderman’s family, you mean?”
“The whole lot of them.” Mrs. McCreedy gave us a look of complete vexation.
I looked enquiringly at Daniel. “I thought you said the cottages were not used at this time of year.”
“Nor are they normally,” Mrs. McCreedy answered for him. “Everything is usually shut up for the winter by now, but I gather Mr. Archie is taking part in some kind of boat race this weekend and the alderman has invited the whole family down. But it’s not mine to reason why. He gives the orders and I carry them out. And I’d best get moving if I’m to have everything ready by the time they get here.”
“Are there no other servants?” Daniel asked. “It’s a big establishment for only one woman to run.”
She nodded agreement. “Of course they bring their personal maids and valets, and the alderman always brings his personal chef. Very particular about his food, the alderman is.”
“I could come up and give you a hand if you like,” I suggested.
She looked horrified. “A friend of the alderman giving me a hand? That would never do. But you’ve married yourself a warm and generous young lady, sir.”
“Definitely.” Daniel
smiled at me. “Always likes to keep herself busy, this one.” I took in his double meaning. We had debated for months about my abandoning my career when we married. I’d had to agree to give up my detective business—understanding, somewhat grudgingly, that it might compromise Daniel’s position in the New York Police Department. But I’d also made it quite clear that I was not prepared to sit idly and devote myself to housewifely pursuits.
“We do bring in local girls to help out with the cleaning when the family is here,” Mrs. McCreedy paused in the doorway. “Do you need me to arrange for one of them to do your cooking and cleaning while you’re here?”
“Oh, no. I’m sure we can manage,” I said. “I’m used to doing my own cooking.”
“Well, let me know if you need anything. And I’d make use of the solitude now if I were you because things are going to be pretty lively come Friday.”
With that she departed, leaving us alone.
Three
I waited until the door closed behind her, then I turned to glare at Daniel.
“Did you know that a whole lot of people were going to be here with us?” I asked.
Daniel shifted uncomfortably under my questioning stare. “No, I didn’t.”
“Then why exactly did this alderman invite us here at the same time as his family? Surely it wasn’t the best of times. And a man like that must have had a reason, other than the goodness of his heart.”
Daniel chuckled. “You’re too sharp for your own good. All right, I suppose there must have been a motive, other than the goodness of his heart.”
“I knew it!” I said angrily. “I knew there was something fishy about this. Important men don’t do things out of the goodness of their hearts—not unless they want something. So what does this alderman want you to do for him? You’re not here to work on a case, are you?”
Daniel put his hands on my shoulders. “Calm down, firebrand. I’m not here to work. He wanted to speak to me about something—something that was troubling him, he said. He thought he might have got it wrong.”
“Got what wrong?”
“He didn’t say. He just said he valued my judgment and he’d like me to see for myself. That’s all I know.”
“So you’ve worked with him before? You know all about his affairs?”
Daniel smiled. “I doubt that anyone knows all about his affairs. If anyone could be said to have a finger in every pie, it would be Brian Hannan. He and his brother own a big construction company, as you probably know. They only take on important jobs now—bridges, tunnels, that kind of thing. You might have heard that they’re currently building the subway under the streets of New York. And you know that he’s also involved in politics—he’s been a big noise at Tammany Hall for years and recently got himself elected alderman. And now he’s after even bigger things, so we hear. I think he’s got his eye on a state senate seat, but he doesn’t want to give up his control of Tammany Hall, to make sure he has all those votes in his pocket.”
“Goodness,” I said. “A busy man indeed.”
“Maybe he’s finally bitten off more than he can chew,” Daniel said. “He’s handed over the day-to-day running of Hannan Construction to his brother. And to tell you the truth, we’ve had our eyes on Hannan Contruction for quite a while. They sail close to the wind, but we’ve never managed to nab them yet.”
“What kind of sailing close to the wind?”
“Contract fixing, that kind of thing. With the help of Tammany, of course. But Tammany elections are coming up soon. Brian Hannan wants to make sure his candidate wins. But the rank and file seem to favor a guy called Murphy. So Hannan’s political ambitions may have lost him his influence here. City alderman means that he’s now part of the establishment. That doesn’t always go down well with Tammany. Should be interesting.”
“Do you think he’s invited you here to bribe you?” I asked.
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” Daniel smiled again. “And in the meantime we’ll make the most of his hospitality. Let’s see if he’s left us a well-stocked wine cellar.”
“Daniel!” I gave a nervous laugh. I was only just understanding the ramifications of being a New York policeman’s wife. There were rules, but those rules could be successfully bent at the right time and place, so it seemed. At least I didn’t have to worry about Daniel being crooked like some of his fellow officers.
We conducted a quick tour of our little guest cottage. It was simple but adequate—the downstairs consisted of a living room, dining room and kitchen, and two bedrooms upstairs with the bathroom between them. The larder was well stocked and to Daniel’s satisfaction there was a barrel of beer and some bottles of wine. “Let’s go for a walk. The sun is shining,” Daniel said.
“We need to clear away the breakfast things first,” I said.
“I wonder if they have a newspaper delivered up at the big house?” Daniel looked around.
“Don’t think you’re going to get out of doing your share of the housekeeping while we’re here, Daniel Sullivan,” I said. “You didn’t marry a drudge. Here, stack up those plates while I go and run some hot water.”
Daniel sighed but didn’t protest. Half an hour later we were walking through the lovely grounds, enjoying the warm sun on our faces. The occasional downed tree limb and drifts of fallen leaves were the only signs of last night’s fury. Today the air was balmy enough to allow us to walk with no overcoats and the breeze from the ocean was gentle and tinged with just enough saltiness to be delightful. I slipped my hand through Daniel’s arm, still enjoying the new feeling of being a couple. Marriage wasn’t so bad after all. I don’t know why I had protested for so long.
Our route took us away from the big house, through a stand of Scotch pine trees and rhododendron bushes. Suddenly we came out to find ourselves at the top of the cliff with wicked-looking rocks on the shoreline below. There was no fence or wall and Daniel grabbed my arm, dragging me back. “Don’t take another step,” he said. “We don’t know if the edge is overhanging.”
“I’m glad we didn’t blunder too far last night,” I commented. “We might have wound up on those rocks.”
We stepped back as a particularly big wave crashed onto the rocks and the sheet of white spray came up toward us. But the cliff was too high and it didn’t reach us.
“Do you fancy a swim?” Daniel asked wickedly.
“I swam in wilder seas than that when I was a child,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “But that was a long time ago now. I think I’ll stick to more sedate occupations. And I’d like to take a look inside the big house while we still have the place to ourselves, wouldn’t you?”
“It might be interesting to see if Hannan has acquired taste along with money,” Daniel agreed.
We completed the circle by walking past the tennis court, a croquet lawn, and then the fountain. There was even a pretty little gazebo, hidden among trees.
“This place has everything,” Daniel said. “I wonder if Hannan has ever allowed himself enough time to enjoy it. Men like him devote their lives to making money.”
“We are definitely going to allow enough time to enjoy ourselves, aren’t we?” I tugged on Daniel’s arm.
“If I remain a policeman our life will certainly not be devoted to making a fortune like Brian Hannan, that’s for sure,” he said. “And I’ve warned you that I have to work all hours of the day and night.”
“You make it sound so appealing,” I said dryly, making him laugh. He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him. “We will make time to enjoy ourselves. I promise.”
We came around to the front of the house and my eyes were drawn again to that corner turret. From which window had I seen the face? Was there even a window facing the main gates?
“Are you coming?” Daniel interrupted my reverie. I followed him up those imposing steps to the front door. This time it stood half-open. Daniel peered around it. “Hello!” he called. “Anyone home?”
Nobody appeared as we stepped inside a
towering oak-paneled foyer decorated like an old castle with swords and banners hanging from walls.
“I wonder where he picked those up,” Daniel said, peering up at the walls. “Irish castle or theater prop shop.”
“Hush, Daniel, someone will hear you,” I whispered. I shivered, wishing I had brought my wrap. The entry hall felt cold and unfriendly after the bright sunshine outside and I wondered why anyone would choose to build a house to feel old and uncomfortable.
“I wonder where that housekeeper has disappeared to,” Daniel said, pacing impatiently.
“It’s a big place.” I looked around, my eyes following the broad curved staircase that led to a dark gallery. “She’s probably upstairs making beds. We should go out again and ring the doorbell to let her know we are here.”
“Nonsense,” Daniel said. “We can look around without her. Hannan wouldn’t mind. It’s not as if we’re going to pocket the silver.”
“I’m not sure that’s the right thing to do,” I said. Since I stepped into the entry hall I had been feeling a growing sense of uneasiness. I found I was looking over my shoulder, as if unseen eyes were watching me with disapproval. But Daniel was already walking ahead of me, through an archway and into an impressive salon. This room had quite a different feel to it—spacious, light, and opulent with brocade sofas and ornate gilt tables and mirrors. We had gone from Irish stronghold to French château in a couple of steps. Daniel looked around with amusement.
“I wonder if he had this lot shipped over from Versailles,” he said, voicing my exact thoughts. “These aren’t copies, they are the real thing. And the paintings aren’t shabby either. These look like genuine Italian old masters, I think.”
“That one’s a Raphael, I believe,” I commented.
Daniel looked surprised and impressed. “Now how do you know that?”
“I’m a well-educated young lady.” I gave a smug little smile. “You don’t think you married a peasant girl straight from the bogs, do you?”