by Rhys Bowen
Small boats circled the area, but Joe Rimes’s body never surfaced, for which I was grateful. After a while the search was called off and the steamer limped on to the next port of Croton-on-Hudson. I was taken to the police station to make a statement. I wasn't sure what would happen to me after that. My clothes were still at Adare, but I didn't fancy going back there to face Barney again. I was wet and miserable and close to tears. Someone at the police station was kind enough to give me a drink of coffee and a blanket from the prison cell to wrap around me.
The sergeant who took my statement was not the brightest nor the most patient and I was becoming so frustrated with having to explain and repeat what had just happened to me that I was about to explode, when I heard voices outside the door. The door burst open. The sergeant got to his feet muttering, “What in blazes do you think—”
But Daniel strode past him as if he was invisible. “Thank Godl” he exclaimed. “I've been worried out of my mind. It took ages to get a boat launched from the Van Gelders and when we finally crossed the river we heard about the accident and people kept telling me that the boat was crushed and they found no survivors.”
“That’s because I jumped overboard intime”I said. “Joe Rimes couldn't swim so he was scared to jump. It was horrible to watch.”
“I'm sure it was,” he said. “My God, woman, you're freezing cold.”
“So would you be if you'd been dragged from ariver,”I said.
This is a police interview room,” the sergeant interrupted. ”May I ask what you think you're doing, barging in here?”
“Captain Sullivan, New York Police,” Daniel said. This young lady was taken hostage by a ruthless killer. Ill get a report to you later, but at this moment she needs dry clothing and a chance to rest. I've already spoken with your chief.” And with that he put an arm around me and led me from the room.
I looked up at him admiringly. “It must be nice to be a captain.”
“It has its benefits.” He smiled at me.
We stepped out into hot sunshine. Several reporters were milling around. Daniel brushed them aside. “There will be a statement later, fellows,” he said. Then he took my arm and led mefirmlyin the direction of the station platform. “Another of your nine lives gone, I fear,” he said as we ascended the steps to the platform, followed by a crowd of curious onlookers. “How on earth did you stumble upon Joseph Rimes?”
I wasn't about to admit that stumbling was exactly what I had done. “Call it female intuition,” I said.
“But your female intuition didn't warn you not to confront him alone?”
“I didn't intend to,” I said. I was about to tell him about Barney’s assault on me and Joe Rimes’s arrival, but I found that I couldn't. ”It’s all rather complicated,” I said. “I encountered him on the path back from Riverside.”
Daniel shook his head. “If only you hadn't been so darned impatient and waited for me as I suggested, then none of this would have happened.”
“If only you hadn't been so darned weak and not wanted to spoil your beloved’s croquet game, you could have escorted me home right away,” I countered.
I saw him stifle a smile. “Molly, what am I going to do with you?” he said. “I send you out on what I consider to be a nice safe assignment and you wind up being taken hostage by a madman. Flynn told me that Joe Rimes confessed to killing Theresa.”
“And to pushing Margie McAlister over the cliff,” I said. “And to organizing the kidnapping of Brendan Flynn.”
This was clearly news to him. He stared at me in disbelief. “He kidnapped the Flynns' baby? Why, for God’s sake?”
“Because Bamey Flynn was running behind in the polls and he wanted to get him the sympathy vote.”
“Good God. The man really was mad.”
“He claims he never intended to harm the child.”
“Never intended to harm him? They buried the poor kid alive. Why do that if he meant him no harm?”
“He told Morell it had to sound really terrible, to put fear into the heart of every parent. Morell promised the child would be safe and stay asleep.”
Daniel shook his head in disgust. “And he didn't tell Rimes where he had hidden the child?”
“Rimes didn't want to know any details, in case he was questioned by the police, I suppose. He was a strange man, Daniel. Very ambitious, but without any of the qualities that would make a charismatic leader. None of Barney Flynn’s charm or good looks. So he put all that ambition into Barney’s career.”
“But why did he have to kill the girl and Mrs. Flynn? Was the McAlister woman blackmailing Barney?”
“Not exactly,” 1 said. “She was his ex-paramour and Eileen Flynn’s real mother. She'd just come back to see her child.” As I said this, I wondered weather there had been any love between her and Barney or whether he had taken advantage of her as he had tried to do of me. Ifeltdeeply sorry for Margie McAlister.
The child’s real mother? How did youfindthat out?”
“Eileen had her mother’s smile,” I said. “And Theresa showed no maternal feelingsfordie child at all.”
Daniel nodded. “I'm impressed,” he said. “I wonder if any male detective would have picked up on that.”
I realized there was another point I needed to clear up. “Exactly why did you send me on this assignment, Daniel?” I asked. “You've madereferenceto it a couple of times. Did you really want to nail the Sorensen Sisters so desperately?”
He shook his head and smiled. “I can't lie to you, can I?” he said. “Allright.I admit. I did it to get you out of the city. Two reasons actually. I was concerned about the typhoid epidemic and also I wanted you well away from the Hudson Dusters in case they dis-covered who you were.”
“So it was nothing to do with my detective skills at all?” I asked flatly.
“Your detective skills are just fine, my dear. Nobody is disputing them.”
“But you wouldn't have selected me for a police undercover assignment if you hadn't had an ulterior motive?”
“Probably not.”
“I see.”
“But now I have to admit that you've probably achieved more than most police detectives. I'm genuinely impressed.”
“Youare?”
He nodded. “Only don't think I'm about to hire you to snoop on gangs and crooks.”
The train came puffing into the station and pulledtoa halt with much squealing and grinding of brakes. Daniel opened the door and helped me inside. As he did, so he muttered a curse and hastily removed his jacket.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Quickly. Put this on,” he commanded.
“Why?”
“My dear, that muslin you are wearing becomes quite transparent when wet. No wonder the crowd was following us and ogling.”
I glanced down at myself and saw the shape of my leg, clearly outlined as I climbed into the carriage. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” I muttered and had the grace to blush before I laughed. “Well, I better not show myfacein this town again, had I?”
Daniel smiled too. “You won't be needing to show yourfacein this town again anytimesoon. I'm taking you home.”
Doors slammed, a whistle sounded and the train pulled out of the station.
“If you're taking me home, we're going the wrong way,” I said.
“We're going back to Adare first, of course.”
“I don't want to go back there,” I said. “Bamey Flynn knows I'm not his cousin. He was—” I broke off, unable to say the next words even to Daniel. “He was very angry with me for deceiving him.”
“Youll have me with you. I'll shield you from Barney Flynn’s anger,” he said. “Besides, it’s only to pick up your things, then 111 arrange to have you taken straight back to the city.” A thought struck him. “So how did he discover that you're not his cousin?”
“His real cousin Molly has been in the convent for the past two years,” I said, giving Daniel a haughty stare. 'Your informants certainly slipped up on that one.”<
br />
He started to laugh. “They certainly did.”
“It’s not funny, actually It might have cost me my life.”
He nodded. “You'reright.I'm sorry, really I am. Well, that’s it.”
“What is?”
“I've learned my lesson. I'm not sending you out on any more assignments, however tame they may seem. I'llfindyou a nice safe job in a hat shop.”
“Now can you see me working in a hat shop?” I had to smile. “I'd jab hat pins into difficult customers.” I shivered suddenly and wrapped Daniel’s jacket more tightly around me. It was easy to joke and make light of things, but I could have beenfisheddead from the Hudson. I suppose shock was beginning to set in. Home sounded particularly good to me—Bridie rushing up to wrap her little arms around me, Sid and Gus waiting to spoil me, Ryan to amuse me. Back to being myself again with no need for pretense. For a moment I wondered if I was really cut out to be an investigator. Then I thought of that hat shop again and decided that on the whole I liked the excitement of my life.
I stared out of the train window, watching the Hudson slip past, and thought how peaceful it looked. Who would ever guess that so much tension and misery went on in the great home on its bank? Much as I distrusted Bamey Flynn and would make sure I was never alone with him again, I did wish him some peace. His haunted face came back to me, the despair in those eyes as he shook Joe Rimes.
As the train slowed, coming into Peekskill, I looked out and saw die little church and a picture flashed into my mind: the young woman bending over Albert Morell’s grave and placing fresh flowers on it, then fleeing when she saw me coming.
“I can't go home yet,” I said, sitting up suddenly. “I have to see this through to the end.”
“But you have seen it through. Joe Rimes is dead.”
“But I'm not sure that Brendan is,” I said.
“What are you talking about? He was buried alive five years ago. He can't still be alive after all this time.”
As we pulled into the station, my gaze went to a woman standing on die platform with a sleeping child in her arms. The child was almost invisible under a white blanket with just little feet sticking out.
“Daniel?” I demanded. “Was a search ever madeforhim outside of the property? Was it ever considered that die ransom note might not have been telling the truth?”
“What do you mean?” Daniel opened the door for me and helped me alight.
“Didn't it seem strange to anyone that the child’s body was never found? If the underground chamber was built, as Morell promised, with a good air supply, then wouldn't dogs have been able to pick up the child’s scent? Even if the child had been drugged, wouldn't he have eventually woken and cried? And wouldn't someone have smelled a decomposing body?”
Daniel looked at me with surprise. “For a sweet-looking young girl, you can discuss remarkably macabre subjects,” he said.
“You haven't answered my question. Was there ever any conjecture that the child might have been hidden away somewhere else?”
“What would that matter now? The child would still be dead.”
“Not necessarily,” I said. “Daniel, I've had this nagging doubt ever since I saw that woman. And the more I think of it, the more sense it makes. From what I've heard of Albert Morell, I can't believe that he would do that to a child. Everyone agreed that he loved children. I love children and no amount of money in the world would make me bury one alive, even if I was sure he'd be safe.”
“So you are suggesting that he spirited the child away?”
“It’s possible, isn't it?”
“But his relatives and friends in Albany were questioned to see if any of them might be involved,” Daniel said. “All inquiries came up blank.”
“I'm still thinking of the woman who puts flowers on his grave,” I said. “She must live quite close by and she must have been very fond of him. I just wondered who she was. And she had a little boy with her who would have been about the right age—”
“Come on, Molly,” Daniel exclaimed, shaking his head. “You're not suggesting that the child with her was really Brendan Flynn?”
“He didn't look anything like him,” I admitted, “but the pictures of Brendan as a baby all show him with long fair curls and dressed in petticoats. His hair could have darkened by now, and he could have turned into a sturdy little boy like the one who was climbing on the graves that day.”
“This is the wildest conjecture, Molly,” Daniel said. “I am sure no stone was left unturned to locate the Flynns' child.”
I glanced back at the train. Doors were slamming and a whistle was blown. “I just have a feeling we should find out about this woman, Daniel,” I said. “I can't explain it but I think she’s important.
Where would we start? Albany?. Isn't that where Morell lived and worked before he went to the Flynns?”
“We're going back to Adare to get you changed and rested,” Daniel said. Hereachedout to take my arm. I shook him off.
“I'm almost dry and with a comb through my hair I should look reasonablyrespectable,”I said. “And it’s still early. Let’s take the train on to Albany. How long does it take from here anyway?”
“A good two hours, and this is foolishness. We can just as easily go tomorrow or the next day. I can telephone the Albany Police and let them pursue the investigation.”
I shook my head and yanked open the train door. “You don't understand. I have to do this for Brendan. I could swear I heard his little voice one day, telling me to come find him”. Please, Daniel, let me see this through.”
“Tomorrow then.” He reached for my arm again. “You've just had a bad fright and you were being poisoned, for God’s sake. You need rest, Molly. You're hysterical.”
“No, I'm not. Fine. If you don't want to come with me, 111 go by myself.”
“Now you're being ridiculous.”
“You don't think I'm capable of taking a train to Albany by my-self and asking a few questions when I get there?”
“Not at the moment,” he said, “unless you have hidden money in the pockets of that dress, because you're not carrying a purse.”
“Oh,” I hadn't considered this. 'You could lend me money. You could advance me the rest of my fee.”
“All aboard!” Another whistle was blown. The station attendant had the greenflagin his hand.
I hesitated, then at the last moment I jumped up onto the train. “If you're not coming with me, I'll go to the police in Albany and get them to advance me money, based on your good name,” I shouted.
Daniel sighed and swung himself aboard as the train started to move. “What an annoying woman you are, Molly Murphy. Now you've got me going with you on a wild goose chase and you've still got bits of weed in your hair and you look like the madwoman of the Hudson.”
“Thank you for your compliments, kind sir.” I gave him a haughty stare and he burst out laughing. “Molly, what am I going to do with you?”
“You've asked me that before and I still can't answer it for you,” I said.
He sat down opposite me. “I suppose I can't ignore your fe-male intuition or your Irish second sight, can I? You've been right before.”
“I appreciate this, Daniel,” I said. “You won't be sorry, I'm sure.”
He smiled back. “What the heck. It beats having to play croquet,” he said andreachedinto his inside pocket. “But here’s my comb. The least we can do is to get half the vegetation of the river out of your hair.”
With that he set to work yanking the comb through my matted tresses. Again I was unnerved by his closeness and he must have felt the same because he suddenly handed me the comb. “I expect you can do this better than I can,” he said. “I'm bound to hurt you.”
I didn't answer that one.
Thirty-three
We should make a plan of campaign for when we get to Albany,” I said, and promptly fell asleep. The next thing I remember was Daniel shaking me and telling me that we were about to arrive. I had slept all of two
hours. The remaining dampness in my garments had dried, leaving me redo-lent with the rather unpleasant smell of riverwater.
Two hours good sleep had worked wonders and I found myself starving hungry and ready for anything. I forced Daniel to stop at the station buffet for a ham sandwich and a glass of sarsaparilla be-fore we got down to business. I had expected Albany to be another little sleepyriversidetown and was amazed to find it a big, bustling city with tree-lined boulevards and an impressive capitol building.
Our first stop was the police headquarters, where Daniel was obviously well known and well received. We learned that Morell now had no family living in the area, no family at all in the States except for a sister in Ohio. But we came away with the address of the carriage builder where Morell had learned about automobiles and worked until he became Senator Flynn’s chauffeur. We took a cab there right away and from that grumpy, taciturn individual we learned where Albert Morell had boarded.
Bertie’s landlady had clearly fallen under his spell. “He was a dear boy, if a bit of a rogue, if you get my meaning,” she said, “But why are you asking now? He’s been dead a long while, God rest his soul.”
But she clearly loved a good gossip and mentioned that Bertie had been sweet on a girl who worked, of all places, in a hat shop. He had once bought her a locket and had it inscribed with her name: Johanna. “I don't know why that fell through,” she said.
“He was married, you know,” Daniel said.
“Married? I never knew that about him.” She put her hand to her ample bosom. “Well, mercy me. Who'd have thought it?”
Obviously the charming Mr. Morell had kept his secrets well. She could give us no more details. We noticed the lace curtain of the parlor window tweak back as we departed.
Daniel muttered about foolish women and wild-goose chases as our cab clattered around the millinery establishments of Albany. It was close to five o'clock when we entered a little shop beside a park. The shop itself was cool and dark and smelled of perfume. Madame was a distinguished-looking Frenchwoman with hair pulled back into a severe bun, a beaky nose and lorgnettes.
“Johanna Foreman?” she asked. “Oui. She once worked here, but she is now gone, many years.”