In Like Flynn

by Rhys Bowen

  I tried to ease myself into a sitting position so that I could grab the vase, but the room spun around as soon as I sat up and I must have moaned because thefigureturned to face me.

  Take another step and I'll scream to wake the house up,” I said.

  “Molly? Thank God it’s you,” a voice said. “I was hoping I'd got theright window.”

  “Daniel?” For a moment I wondered if his presence was part of a fevered dream. “Is it really you? I'm not hallucinating, am I?”

  He put a warningfingerto his lips. “No, it’s really me,” he whispered. He came closer. “Are you all right?”

  “Apart from the fact that I'm dying,” I whispered back and tried to smile.

  “I tried to see you this afternoon but they wouldn't let me,” he said in a low voice. “They told me that you were indisposed.”

  “I am,” I said. “Well and truly indisposed. But what are you doing here? I thought you wanted to stay well clear of the Flynns because they know you?”

  “Oh, I told them I was staying in the neighborhood and I'd bumped into someone who knew you from Limerick and I promised her I'd give you the latest news from home.”

  “I see. That’s good.” I closed my eyes as the room swung around again.

  “Can we be easily overheard?” he asked, prowling around the room.

  I shook my head. “I don't think so. But other people will have windows open, and sound carries on still nights like this.”

  Daniel went across to the window and closed it. That should do it, if we only talk in whispers.”

  “I can't talk louder than a whisper anyway,” I said.

  Daniel brushed my hair back from my face. You're covered in sweat,” he said. “Lie back. Have you seen a doctor?”

  Two of them. They both told me I had food poisoning and I'd befineif I ate nothing, which I'm doing. But the moment I eat or drink anything it all begins again. I've been vomiting my heart out for several days now.”

  “That conjures up a pretty picture,” he said, but he was still stroking my hair tenderly. “Is there any particular time of day it comes on?”

  “At night,” I said. “Always at night. I lie down and fall asleep feeling perfectly normal, then I wake up to the sweats and the cramps and the vomiting.”

  “Do you drink anything before you go to sleep?”

  Yes, they always bring up a milky drink or a cup of beef tea.”

  He gripped my shoulders. “Did you drink it tonight?–

  “No, just a few sips. I felt too weak. It’s still there on the bedside table.”

  He picked it up, dipped his finger into it and licked the finger. “Did you notice a bitter flavor?”he asked.

  “Perhaps. I thought my sickness had upset my taste buds.”

  “I think it could be arsenic,” he said. “We've got to get you out of here. I think you're being poisoned.”

  “Poisoned? But who would want to poison me?”

  “Good question,” he said. “Who brings the drink to you?”

  The maid. I have no idea who prepares it.”

  “Somebody who doesn't want you snooping around any longer, by the sound of it,” he said. “Ill take a sample of the stuff and have it tested. Do you have something I could carry it in? A pill box? A little medicine bottle?”

  I shook my head. “I don't take medicines. I've never been sick, until now.”

  “Don't women travel with an array of little boxes and toiletries?”

  “Not me,” I said. “I'm a poor Irish peasant, remember.”

  'You're hopeless,” he said, but he was smiling. “I suppose for want of anything better—” He took out a clean handkerchief and dipped it into the cup. “I'll wring it out into a container when I get back.”

  “Ingenious,” I said. “I must remember that.”

  He turned to glare at me. “I'm so angry with myself, putting you in harm’s way like this, when I wanted just the opposite …”

  “What exactly do you mean by that?”

  “I meant that I thought this would be a perfectly safe assignment for you, and now if I hadn't arrived in time, you might be lying here dead. It was stupid of me…” He got up and started pacing the room.

  “But I've been very careful, Daniel,” I said. “They all think I'm harmless Cousin Molly. Nobody would know I've been snooping, apart from the spiritualist ladies, and they've done a bunk.”

  He stopped pacing and spun around.

  The Sorensen Sisters? They've gone, have they?”

  They have. Right after I confronted them and told them I'd found out some of their little tricks.”

  He shook his head in exasperation. You weren't supposed to confront them, just report back to me.”

  “I didn't intend to. They found me snooping in their attic and I decided that attack was the best form of defense.”

  The head shaking continued. “So they fled, which is incriminating enough in itself. Do you think you've got enough to nail them this time?”

  To be honest, I don't think well ever nail them. They have too many believers who won't hear a word against them.” I tried to prop myself up. “Do you think you could pass me that barley water. My mouth is like sandpaper.”

  Daniel poured from the jug, then tried the water first before giving it to me. “No, that seems to be all right,” he said and perched on the bed again beside me.

  “I still can't believe that someone here would want to poison me,” I whispered. “They couldn't have been nicer to me.”

  The Misses Sorensen obviously have a good reason to get rid of you. How long ago did they leave?”

  “Oh, days ago. I'm a little fuzzy on time but the worst of the sickness came on after they went, so it can't have been them.”

  “Well, somebody obviously thinks you've been asking too many questions. Listen, Molly,” he said, leaning closer so that his lips were almost touching my ear, “you had good instincts when you thought there was something not quite right about this place. I checked into your Miss McAlister. She bought herself a nice little house in the Washington area soon after she left service here, claiming it was a legacy from her rich aunt. By all accounts she lived quite well. The thing is that her only aunt is still living and not at all rich. Nobody in her family has died in the last five years and there have been no public records of any legacies.”

  “So it was some kind of payoff then?” I whispered. “She was black-mailing somebody and she came back here to get more and—”

  “And somebody pushed her over a cliff,” Daniel finished for me. “I went to see the spot for myself today and I think you were right. It wasn't a point on the path where she would have lost her footing easily or unintentionally.”

  “So somebody in the house has something to hide,” I said.

  “Any idea who?” he asked.

  “I suppose it could have something to do with Barney’s shady deals,” I said. “He’s known for them, isn't he? But I don't want to think that, because it would mean it was Bamey himself who got rid of her.”

  Daniel shook his head. “Men like Bamey Frynn tlon't do their own dirty work. He'd have had somebody else push her off the cliff.”

  “I findthat hard to believe,” I said. “I was with him when the body was discovered. He seemed genuinely shocked when he found out who it was. And genuinely surprised that she had come back, too. He said she'd only been with the family for a short while.”

  “Long enough to have found out something she shouldn't,” Daniel said.

  “I suppose it could have been something to do with the kidnapping of the Flynns' baby, but I don't see how. Miss McAlister didn't come to the house until the kidnapping was over.”

  “And the kidnapper was already dead,” Daniel reminded me.

  “Yes, but I've been asking some questions—don't look at me like that, I've been very discreet—and I don't think Bertie Morell had the brains or the character to mastermind such an audacious crime.”

  “You think he was just the pawn who carrie
d out the deed?”

  “Yes, that’s what I think, if he did it at all. I didfindone of the child’s favorite toys in the attic of the cottage behind the house. So it seems possible that the child was held there for a while, al-though I can't see how Morell could have brought him there without being seen. And you know what else I have been thinking…”

  Daniel put a hand on my shoulder. “Don't try to sit up. Lie back and don't talk too much. I don't want you overexerting yourself.”

  “But I have to tell you everything I know,” I said. “When will I get another chance? It may be important.”

  Daniel sighed. “All right. I've never been able to shut you up yet. I don't suppose 111 be able to now.”

  I looked up at him and I can't tell you how wonderful it felt to know that he was here beside me. As a lady detective, I still had serious characterflaws.I wrenched my mind away from personal feelings and back to business. “If there was a mastermind behind the kidnapping, and that mastermind wasn't the Black Hand, then there are several possibilities,” I said. “My number one choice would be the secretary, Desmond O'Mara. He is well educated and brainy yet he has chosen to stay here when he surely could do better for himself. Smart and penniless. That’s a dangerous combi-nation, wouldn't you say? And I saw him leaving the house and heading for the cliff path the afternoon before Margie McAlister’s body was found, and he was away all night, showing up innocently the next morning.”

  “Desmond O'Mara,” Daniel echoed. “I'll check into him then. Go on. Who else?”

  “One of the gardeners, called Adam. He was a close pal of Bertie Morell and he has a good reason to get revenge against the Flynns. Bamey Flynn tricked his father out of his ice lease on the river. Why would Adam choose to work for the man who ruined his family if he has no ulterior motive? And then there’s Roland.”

  “Roland? Another gardener?”

  “No, the next-door neighbor. Roland Van Gelder. The Van Gelder family have been enemies of the Flynns ever since Roland’s father ran for the same office as Barney Flynn.”

  “Oh, I'm well acquainted with the Van Gelders. Old money.”

  “Not any more,” I said. “They claim they get along better with the Flynns now, but I'm not so sure. And Roland had a strong motive in needing money. He has expensive tastes but the family fortune has dwindled.”

  “Anyone else?” Daniel grinned. “I must say you do a thorough job, don't you? Any more dark secrets that you have uncovered?”

  “No, only I overheard Joseph Rimes and Bamey talking once about some scandal that could harm them if it came out.”

  “Joseph Rimes?”

  “He’s Barney’s political adviser. I don't like him much. Bombastic and blustering.”

  Daniel nodded. “I really suspect that some political or business scandal may be at the heart of this murder, rather than the kidnapping itself. I can't tell you how thoroughly the police investigated every aspect of that abduction. We had pressure from the President himself, you know. But we came up with nothing.”

  “Was Bertie Morell married?” I asked.

  “Yes, he was. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I saw a woman puttingflowerson his grave.”

  “Interesting, but I shouldn't think it was his wife. She was a much older woman and they separated years ago. Couldn't stand the sight of each other, so one gathered. I thought she moved to Chicago or somewhere out West. I did meet her once at a hearing—a large dragon of a woman with a mustache. She must have had money. There’s no other reason he'd have married her.”

  Then this definitely wasn't his wife,” I said. “She was slim and young and there was a child.”

  “Interesting.” Daniel nodded. “Morell had no children, or none that we know of. Another of his former conquests, who still retained a soft spot in her heart for him, maybe. Women tend to do these things, don't they?”

  “Do what?”

  “Retain a soft spot in their hearts for the man they once loved.”

  “Some women, maybe.” Even in my weakened state I was not admitting anything to Daniel.

  Daniel grinned. “There are probably quite a few of his former conquests dotted around. He had an eye for the ladies, so I understand.”

  “I wonder if she'd know anything,” I said. I was feeling so much better already that I propped myself up on my elbow. “We could—”

  Daniel put his handfirmlyon my thigh. 'You are not doing anything more. You're only going to drink and eat what everybody else is eating and drinking until I come and fetch you.”

  “Will that be soon?”

  “As soon as I can arrange it. If this liquid tests positive, 111 be back with a warrant. If not, I'llfindan excuse to come for you. In the meantime you are to do nothing but get well, is that clear?” His hand on my thigh was very unnerving, even though the thigh was under the covers.

  'You're very masterful when you want to be,” I said. He smiled. 'For once I'm not about to take advantage of your weakened condition,” he said.

  “Oh, so you are a gentleman, after all.”

  “And you're not exactly looking your most desirable, my sweet.” He leaned forward and kissed me very gently on the fore-head. I nuzzled my head against his sleeve, taking in the familiar smell of his pipe tobacco. It didn't matter that Miss Arabella Norton would be waiting for him. He was here with me now. That was all that mattered.

  He pulled me to him and cradled my head, stroking my hair gently. Take care of yourself. Don't forget there is a very desperate person in the vicinity of this house. That person has already killed at least once. The next time will be easy. I don't want it to be you.”

  “I don't want it to be me, either.”

  “Good girl.” He kissed the top of my head again. “I ought to go before I am discovered and your reputation is ruined forever.”

  'You take care of yourself as you climb down that creeper,” I said. 'You won't be much good to me if you're lying splattered on the trellis.”

  He smiled as he opened the window. Then he swung his leg over the sill and blew me a kiss. I heard the creeper rustling as he climbed down it. Then silence.

  Twenty-six

  Something woke me just before dawn. It was still that gray, soft half darkness before the sun comes up, but I could hear activity going on in the house. Running feet past my door, raised voices and someone crying. I got up and reached for my robe and slippers. I had to hold onto the bedpost to steady myself but I made it as far as my bedroom door and opened it.

  “Dr. Chambers is on his way,” I heard Barney’s voice. “Oh, do stop that wailing, woman. It’s not doing any good.”

  I crept out, my hand on the railing to steady myself. Below me in the hall Soames ran to the front door—actually ran with coattails flying. This was such an unusual sight that I started down the stairs in my robe until I came upon Theresa’s maid, Adèle, sitting on a side chair, crying her eyes out.

  “What is it, Adèle?” I asked. “Is somebody ill?”

  “Madame,” she gulped between sobs. “She is dead, mademoiselle.”

  “Theresa is dead?” I hastily made the sign of the cross, reverting to the religion I had not taken seriously for years.

  She nodded and burst into renewed sobs, holding her lace handkerchief up to her face. Barney came out of his office looking haggard.

  “It’s true then?” I asked him.

  He nodded. “She killed herself sometime last night. Apparently she'd been hoarding sleeping powders and she took the lot. I knew that alienist was a bad idea. He drove her over the edge, that’s what he did. Ill have him in court for it. Ill have him horse-whipped! And her stupid sister who brought him here—she can go straight home, and that interfering cousin. I want the lot of them out of my house!” His voice had risen to a distressed shriek that echoed through the two-story-high hallway.

  I put a restraining hand on his arm. “Barney, I know you're terribly shocked and upset by this, but don't go blaming people. Theresa has been living under a black
cloud, as she put it, for years. Let’s pray she is finally reunited with her son and is at peace now.”

  “Yes, let’s pray that,” he said and made the sign of the cross himself. “God, Molly, I lived in fear that she'd do this and now she has.” I could tell he was trying to master his tears. Then he shook his head in a defiant gesture. “That’s it for me. I'm selling this house and moving right away from here. I was so proud when I moved in here—Barney Flynn from the Lower East Side slums has finally made it next to the Van Gelders. But it’s brought me nothing but grief.”

  “I'm so sorry. If there’s anything that I can do—”

  “I'm glad to have you here, Molly. It’s comforting to know that one of my family from the old country is with me at a time like this. All of Theresa’s clan will come for the funeral, of course, and they'll all blame me.”

  “Why should they blame you?”

  “Because I didn't treat her well enough. Because I couldn't protect our son. Because I put her through hell.”

  “Don't be too hard on yourself.”

  He sighed. “No, you're right. I'd better get dressed before the doctor gets here and then wake up Joe and Desmond to discuss what the press might do with this and what sort of statement I should make. It still seems like a bad dream.”

  “And what about your daughter? Should she be told?”

  “I'll tell the nurse and she can decide the right way to do it.”

  “I think it should come from you, Barney. She’s just lost her mother. She needs to know she can count on her father.”

  He sighed. “I suppose you're right, but I never know the right thing to say to children. I was too busy to get to know Brendan and now I've been the same with Eileen. And Theresa always kept her shut away in her own quarters.”