Murder on Fifth Avenue: A Gaslight Mystery

by Victoria Thompson

  “Have you ever miscarried before?”

  “No.”

  “It’s possible, of course, but it’s much more likely you’ll have a healthy baby.” Sarah smiled to reassure her, but Garnet didn’t look reassured. Instead she glanced around the room, as if noticing it for the first time.

  “How nice that you have your own home. Do you support yourself completely?”

  Sarah blinked. “Yes.”

  “How long did it take for you to learn to be a midwife?”

  “I took training as a nurse, and then I worked with another midwife for a year or so. About three years total, I guess.”

  The news seemed to disappoint her. “That’s a long time.”

  “Are you interested in becoming a midwife?”

  “Not really. I just…I’m interested in how a woman can make her own way in the world.”

  Once again, Sarah considered what good manners required of her, but this time she chose to ignore them. “Why?”

  Garnet seemed shocked. Probably no one had ever asked her such a rude question before. “I…I suppose you have a right to wonder.”

  “No, I don’t, but I admit I’m curious. Most women would kill to be in your position.” Seeing Garnet’s wince, Sarah instantly regretted her choice of words. “I’m so sorry. That was thoughtless—”

  “Oh, no, don’t apologize. You’re absolutely right. My husband is now one of the richest men in the city. I live in a beautiful home with servants to wait on me. I have every luxury available. I should want for nothing.”

  “And yet you’re asking me how a woman can make her own way in the world.”

  Color bloomed in Garnet’s cheeks, and she started to rise. “I shouldn’t have come …”

  “Oh, please, don’t go! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

  “You did nothing wrong, Mrs. Brandt. I was just being foolish.”

  Sarah cast about for a way to make her stay. “I…Do you have any questions about the baby?”

  Her lips stretched into a grin, a ghastly expression that spoke of pain and bitterness. “No, no questions. My mother-in-law will be thrilled. She so wants the Devries name to continue.”

  “You could send her away, you know,” Sarah said, thinking she knew the source of Garnet’s pain. “Your mother-in-law, I mean. You’re the mistress of the house now. You could send her to live with one of her daughters, or surely the family has a house in Newport or someplace where she could go.”

  “My husband would have to agree to send her away.” Plainly, Garnet didn’t believe that would ever happen.

  “Then you could go yourself. For your health. For the baby.”

  “For the baby. Of course.” For a second, an emotion that might have been despair twisted her lovely face, and then it was gone. She smiled the way girls like them had been taught to smile their entire lives, politely and insincerely. “Thank you for seeing me, Mrs. Brandt.”

  “Please, come back anytime. I will always be happy to see you.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  Sarah followed her back to the front room and helped her with her cloak. “I would be happy to attend you, if your family approves.”

  This time, Garnet’s smile was merely sad. “I’m sure I will be attended by the best doctors in the city, although you understand, that would not be my choice.”

  “I do understand. But I can always be your friend.”

  Tears flooded Garnet’s eyes. “You shouldn’t make such rash promises, Mrs. Brandt.”

  Before Sarah could reply, she was gone, throwing open the front door and practically fleeing. Sarah wanted to call her back, but as Garnet reached the foot of the front steps, she nearly collided with Sarah’s elderly neighbor, Mrs. Ellsworth, who carried a napkin-wrapped plate of goodies she must be bringing for the girls. Sarah rushed to save Mrs. Ellsworth and the plate from falling, and by the time she had, Garnet had disappeared around the corner.

  “Who was that?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked, breathless.

  “A new friend,” Sarah said. “I’m sorry. She was a little upset.”

  “At you?” Mrs. Ellsworth asked as they climbed the front steps.

  “Oh, no.” At least Sarah didn’t think so, although she had no idea what Garnet was really upset about. She tried to distract Mrs. Ellsworth. “What have you brought us?”

  “Cookies. Just shortbread, I’m afraid, but they’re Nelson’s favorite. He won’t eat many of them, though, so I brought you the rest.”

  “How is Nelson?”

  “He’s very happy. Did I tell you he’s keeping company with a young lady?”

  “At least a dozen times,” Sarah said with a smile.

  “I do wish my son would settle down and start a family. I would love to dandle some grandchildren on my knee while I’m still able.”

  Sarah took Mrs. Ellsworth’s coat and called the girls to come down and greet her. A few minutes later, they were in the kitchen enjoying the cookies when Sarah’s front bell rang again. This time, a very excited young man had come to tell Sarah his wife was in labor and she had to come right away.

  “I knew it,” Mrs. Ellsworth said as they helped Sarah pack her medical bag. “I saw four crows on the back fence this morning. You know what they say, one crow means sorrow, two crows mean joy, three crows a wedding, and four a birth.”

  “What do five crows mean?” Catherine asked.

  “A mess in your yard,” Maeve said.

  FRANK STOPPED BY HEADQUARTERS TO SEE IF DONATELLI had left him a message about the meeting with Angotti. Finding nothing, he headed back to the Devrieses’ house. This time he went to the back door, where the cook reluctantly admitted him when he said he needed to speak to Roderick again. She rang for the valet.

  “You can wait right here where I can see you until he comes,” she said, eyeing him warily as she continued to knead an enormous mound of dough.

  “Afraid I’ll run off with the silver?”

  “Coppers don’t seem to mind taking what they want, I’ve noticed, although they get right annoyed if anybody else does.”

  Frank decided not to comment. “I guess the staff is pretty upset about Mr. Devries dying like that.”

  She gave him a look, as if judging the sincerity of his sympathy. “It was a shock, no doubt about it.”

  “His son is very different, isn’t he?”

  “Mr. Paul is an angel,” she sniffed, expertly flipping the dough. “Never has a cross word to say.”

  “Didn’t he ever argue with his father? I never knew a son who didn’t.”

  She glared at him. “I meant to the staff. He didn’t say much to Mr. Devries neither, though. Nobody did. Wouldn’t do any good. He did what he wanted, that one.”

  “Speaking ill of the dead?” Frank asked with a knowing grin.

  “If there’s nothing else you can say,” she replied.

  “I guess you know about the young lady who lives on Mercer Street.”

  “She ain’t no lady.”

  “So you do know about her.”

  “We all do, and I can’t say we minded. Kept him away from here, didn’t it?”

  “You approve of a man neglecting his family?”

  She scooped up the dough and plopped it into a large crockery bowl. “I do if neglecting means leaving them in peace.”

  “Mrs. O’Brien, that’s enough,” Roderick said from the doorway.

  She sniffed. “Mind your own business.” She draped a towel over the bowl and carried it over to the stove where the dough could rise in the warmth.

  “Mr. Malloy, we can use the butler’s pantry,” he said, and led Frank through the kitchen to the tidy room lined with cabinets. They sat at the small table in the center of the room. “Mrs. O’Brien has a loose tongue.”

  “I like a woman who speaks her mind.”

  Roderick frowned but said, “Why did you want to see me?”

  “The medical examiner thinks Mr. Devries was stabbed with something long and thin, but the clothing he was we
aring when he died didn’t have any holes in it.”

  “Of course not. Do you think Mr. Devries would wear clothing with holes in it?”

  Frank managed not to sigh. “Whatever stabbed him would’ve made a hole in whatever he was wearing. We don’t know when he was stabbed, but if we found clothing with a hole in it, we could figure out when he was wearing it and know when it happened.”

  Roderick considered this information. “Then you would also be able to figure out who could have stabbed him.”

  Frank saw no reason to respond. He simply waited.

  Roderick took his time with his reply. “I did not notice damage to any of Mr. Devries’s clothes.”

  “The hole might’ve been very small. Maybe you overlooked it.”

  “That’s…possible.” Plainly, he didn’t think so.

  “Can you remember what clothing he was wearing when he came home from Miss English’s house yesterday?”

  “I believe I can.”

  “Good. Let’s go take a look at them.”

  Roderick stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I want to go with you to look at them. And if we don’t find any holes, I want to look at all his other clothes.”

  “I’m sure Mrs. Devries wouldn’t approve.”

  Frank wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t approve of Frank looking at Devries’s clothes or of him going upstairs in the house, but he didn’t much care. “I won’t tell her. Now are you going to take me or should I try to find my own way?”

  The thought of Frank wandering around the house by himself was enough to persuade Roderick of the lesser of two evils. Without a word, he rose and left the room, Frank at his heels. They climbed two sets of stairs and silently strode down a long corridor to one of several doors and entered Chilton Devries’s bedroom. The dark, masculine furnishings told Frank he did not share this room with his wife.

  Frank could never understand why rich people kept separate bedrooms. He recalled sharing a bed with his wife as one of the best parts of being married. But rich people did manage to have children, so he supposed they got together sometimes. Frank could only be glad he wasn’t invading a room shared by Mrs. Devries. She’d probably have his job for that. Or at least his head.

  The room contained a large mahogany bed with elaborately carved head- and footboards. A fireplace dominated one wall, and two stuffed chairs had been placed in front of it. A table between them held a nut bowl and a tray with some glasses and a crystal decanter, the kind used to serve liquor, although this one was empty at the moment. The nut bowl was a fancy one with a holder in the center for the nutcracker and other implements. It was half full of walnuts.

  Roderick closed the door behind them, then went to a door on the left side wall. This opened into a dressing room with built-in drawers and cabinets. In one corner was a basket that apparently contained dirty clothes. Roderick started picking through them, and pulled out a man’s white dress shirt.

  “I believe this is the one he was wearing when he arrived home that morning.” He held it up, and he and Frank examined the back of it. Frank had hoped for a bloodstain, but he didn’t even find a hole.

  Roderick seemed even more disappointed. Frank could understand that. Roderick would probably be very happy to discover Miss English had stabbed his master.

  “What else was he wearing?” Frank asked.

  “If the shirt doesn’t have a hole—”

  “What else?”

  Roderick sighed with long-suffering and found a set of balbriggans, an undershirt, and long johns. The undershirt was also undamaged, although Frank couldn’t help noticing how much finer the fabric was than the set he was wearing. They examined all the rest of the clothing in the basket, but found nothing with a hole in it.

  “All right, tell me everything Mr. Devries did that morning while he was here.”

  For a second Frank thought he might refuse, but he squared his shoulders as if preparing for a fight, and said, “I already told you.”

  “Tell me again.”

  Another sigh. “He took a bath.”

  “Did you help him undress?”

  “I already told you, yes. And I saw no evidence that he was injured.”

  “Where did he take a bath?”

  “In the bathroom.”

  Frank managed not to lose his temper. “Show me.”

  With obvious reluctance, Roderick took him back into the bedroom and to a door on the opposite side of the room. This led to a fully equipped bathroom, with a tub, a commode, and a sink. Which Devries obviously had all to himself. Being rich did have its advantages.

  “After his bath, did he get dressed in here?”

  “No, he put on his robe.” Roderick indicated a garment hanging on the back of the door.

  Frank snatched it down and examined it. No blood. No holes.

  “Then what did he do?”

  “He…He called for some breakfast to be sent up.”

  “What did he do while he waited?”

  “Read the paper.”

  “You said he had a fight with his son.”

  “I never said any such thing.”

  Frank gave him the stare that usually frightened hardened criminals into cooperating. Roderick gulped audibly. “Mr. Paul came in while Mr. Devries was reading his paper. I do not know what they discussed. I left the room.”

  “Did you go downstairs?”

  “No, I went into the dressing room.”

  “Then you know what they argued about.”

  “I most certainly do not. I do not eavesdrop.”

  “But you couldn’t have helped overhearing, especially if they were shouting.”

  But Roderick wasn’t going to betray his master, even if he was dead. “I did not hear anything.”

  Frank nodded in silent acknowledgment of Roderick’s victory. “After Paul left, then what happened?”

  “I came out to help Mr. Devries get dressed.”

  “He was still wearing his robe?”

  Roderick hesitated. “I…No, he wasn’t.”

  “What was he wearing?”

  “Nothing.”

  “He was naked?”

  “Yes, he…he was probably expecting me to dress him, so he’d removed his robe.”

  “Did he remove it while Paul was still there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Frank thought this, at least was the truth. Roderick looked too worried about the implications to be lying.

  Frank couldn’t imagine prancing around naked in front of people, but since Roderick helped Devries dress and undress every day, he supposed Devries would’ve thought nothing of it. The question was, did he think nothing of being naked in front of his son, who might’ve stabbed him in the back when he took off his robe?

  But what would the son have stabbed him with? Frank didn’t see an ice pick or even a hat pin lying around.

  “So Devries was just walking around the room, naked?”

  “He was eating a walnut.”

  “What?”

  “A walnut.” Roderick indicated the bowl on the table near the fireplace. “Mr. Devries is…was very fond of walnuts.”

  Frank was fairly certain Devries hadn’t been stabbed with a walnut. Or a nutcracker either. “Then what happened?”

  “Someone knocked on the door. I thought it was the girl bringing up the breakfast tray, so I opened the door, but it was Mrs. Devries.”

  “And she came in?”

  Roderick flinched a little at the memory. “Yes.”

  Frank could imagine her reaction to finding her naked husband standing there eating a walnut. “Did you leave the room again?”

  “Very quickly.”

  “And did you hear—”

  “Before I left, I heard her say Paul had told her about their argument, but I didn’t listen to any more. If you want to know what they discussed, you will have to ask Mrs. Devries.”

  Frank couldn’t imagine doing any such thing, but maybe Sarah could do it. Did women talk
about things like that? He had no idea, but he would find out. From Sarah.

  “Did Mr. Devries put his robe back on when his wife came in?”

  “No. At least not that I know of. He was still naked when she left and I returned to the room.”

  “Maybe he thought if he was naked, she’d leave.”

  Roderick had to make an effort not to smile. “Or at least not stay as long.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I brought him his underwear, and he started to dress, but the girl finally delivered the breakfast tray, and he stopped to eat.”

  “Was he still naked when the girl delivered the tray?”

  “Not completely, no.”

  “Did the girl see him?”

  Roderick stiffened again.

  “Did the girl often see him naked?” Frank guessed.

  “Mr. Devries was not a modest man.”

  “Did he make use of the maids?” Frank understood this was not an uncommon practice in wealthy households.

  “Oh, no, not…not at all. He just liked to shock them, I think.”

  The maids and his wife and his son. Very interesting. “He ate his breakfast. Then what?”

  “He finished dressing. Then he left the house.”

  “To meet with Mr. Angotti.”

  Roderick had no reply to that.

  “And he never mentioned being injured or having pain or anything like that?”

  “I don’t recall anything out of the ordinary. Mr. Devries was not a man to complain. He felt it was a sign of weakness.”

  “Too bad. It might’ve saved his life. I don’t suppose Paul Devries is at home.”

  “Yes, but he has a visitor.”

  “Does he now? Who is visiting him?”

  “I’m sure that’s none of your business.”

  “Maybe I’ll just go see for myself. I think I remember where the parlor is.”

  Roderick flushed with the effort of holding his temper. “Mr. Hugh Zeller arrived to offer his condolences.”

  “And who is Mr. Zeller?”

  “Mr. Paul’s oldest friend.”

  “Then he’s like a member of the family. I’m sure he won’t mind if I ask Mr. Paul a few questions.”

  “You can’t—” Roderick protested, but Frank was already in the hallway. He found the main staircase with no trouble at all and was halfway down them when Roderick caught up.