Murder on Fifth Avenue: A Gaslight Mystery

by Victoria Thompson

  Malloy widened his eyes at her but she refused to relent.

  They rode on in silence for a while, Sarah staring unseeing at the windows they passed where ordinary people lived their lives in full view of the passengers who rode the trains that ran down several of the main streets of the city. Finally, she said, “I can’t figure out how she could jump from the bridge when the walkway is in the middle.”

  Unlike most bridges, where pedestrians walked along the sides, the Brooklyn Bridge had been built with an elevated walkway down the center. A jump from there would only land a person on the tracks of the train that ran along the inside traffic lanes on either side.

  “You said her husband managed to jump off of it. She must know how he did it.”

  “I guess that’s possible.”

  “Even if she tries, she might not be able to go through with it. Lots of people think they want to jump until they get up there and see how high it is and how cold the water looks. They’re happy when the authorities come and get them down.”

  Sarah remembered Mrs. Richmond’s pride and prayed they’d get there in time.

  When they reached the stop closest to the bridge, they hurried off and clattered down the station stairs to the street.

  “Don’t wait for me,” Sarah said, knowing Malloy could move faster than she, hampered as she was by her long skirts. “I’ll catch up.”

  Grim-faced, he pushed his way through the pedestrians clogging the sidewalk and disappeared. Sarah followed as best she could, pushing and shoving as necessary and paying no heed to the shouted curses she left in her wake.

  The wind on the bridge nearly took her breath as she finally made her way out onto the walkway. Below her, one of the elevated trains rumbled along, returning to Manhattan. She scanned both sides of the bridge, looking for anyone who might be Terry Richmond. How would she find her? How would she get to her? And how would she stop her from jumping?

  Sarah took heart at the way the people around her were calmly going about their business. She was the only one who seemed upset or harried. Surely, if someone had jumped from the bridge, someone would have seen, and the horror of it would have caused the hundreds of people nearby to react. But nothing seemed out of the ordinary, at least not yet.

  Sarah walked slowly, hugging the rail and straining to see a place down below, along the side of the bridge, where a person might get to the edge and climb up over the rails and cables and …

  “Sarah!”

  She turned and saw Malloy. He was on the other side of the walkway. She darted and dodged among the other pedestrians to reach him.

  “Do you see her?’ she asked.

  “No, but I can see how you could get out there.” He pointed to a narrow strip of pavement at the edge of the outer traffic lane, which was probably for workmen to use. They could see for a long way down the length of the bridge and saw no sign of her.

  “How far would she go?” Sarah asked.

  “I doubt she’d walk out very far onto the bridge. Too much chance of someone seeing her and stopping her.”

  “Where is she, then?” Sarah looked again in all directions. “I’ll go back to the other side and watch from there.”

  Once again she was buffeted and bumped by the heedless individuals intent on getting where they were going. When she reached the rail, she saw the same narrow access area on this side as well. The only difference was that on this side, a solitary figure hunched against the wind was making her way gingerly along it.

  15

  “MALLOY!” SARAH SCREAMED AS SHE FRANTICALLY SCANNED the area below, trying to figure out how to get down to where Terry Richmond was. “Mrs. Richmond! Terry!” she called, waving.

  Someone grabbed her hand and pulled it down. “Don’t,” Malloy said. “If she sees us up here, she might panic and jump.”

  “What can we do, then?”

  “We need to get down there so you can tell her she doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. Come on.”

  He took her arm and propelled her into the streaming mass of pedestrians heading for the Manhattan side of the bridge. Sarah had to resist the urge to knock people over in her desperation to reach the end of the bridge again. Fortunately, many of them were also in a hurry, and they were soon back where they had started.

  Sarah had no idea how to get onto the walkway Mrs. Richmond was using, but fortunately, Malloy did. They had to cross through the line of vehicles entering the traffic lanes, but after only a couple close calls as they darted in front of skittish horses controlled by impatient drivers, they reached the point at which Mrs. Richmond must have entered the bridge.

  “Hey, where’re you going?” a young workman yelled at them as Malloy helped Sarah up the steep steps to reach the narrow walkway that ran along the edge of the bridge.

  Malloy identified himself. “There’s a woman out there who’s planning to jump.”

  The young man swore, and Malloy cuffed him on the ear.

  “Watch your language, and get some help. We’re going out to stop her, so don’t make a lot of noise when you come up. Let us talk to her.”

  The fellow nodded and ran off.

  Sarah had reached the top of the steps, and she could see Mrs. Richmond. She was maybe a hundred feet out. She’d stopped and was looking down over the side, probably judging the distance as Malloy had predicted.

  “I’m going to hang back,” Malloy said. “If she sees me, she might jump before we get a chance to say anything to her. Are you going to be able to do this?”

  Sarah had no idea. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt as if she couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs, but she looked deep into Malloy’s dark eyes and nodded.

  “Go on, then,” he said.

  Sarah wanted to run, but the path was narrow and the wind buffeted her, bringing tears to her eyes and forcing her to clutch at the railing as she moved forward. Remembering Malloy’s warning, she resisted the urge to call out. Finally, she was close enough that Mrs. Richmond sensed her presence. Her head jerked up, and she took a step back.

  “Don’t come any closer!”

  Sarah raised both her hands in a gesture of surrender. “Don’t do this. You don’t have anything to be afraid of.”

  She laughed at that, an ugly, bitter sound. “What do you know?”

  “I know everything. I know you stabbed Devries with the knife you got from Mr. Angotti, but it was self-defense. You won’t be punished for that.”

  “You’re lying. I know Mr. Malloy came with you this morning. He’s going to arrest me. I won’t put Garnet through that, not after what’s already happened to her.”

  She reached up and grabbed one of the thousands of cables that supported the bridge, stuck her foot into the grillwork, and began to hoist herself up.

  “No!” Sarah cried, sprinting toward her. “Stop! Listen to me!”

  From the pedestrian walkway above, a voice shouted, “Somebody’s jumping!”

  Mrs. Richmond froze, instinctively looking up to see who had spoken. The foot traffic on the walkway had stopped, and dozens of faces were peering down at them.

  “Jump! Jump!”

  “What’re you waiting for!”

  A cacophony of voices showered down on them, jeering and urging her on. Nearer, the wagon drivers were stopping their horses, wanting to see the show.

  “Don’t listen to them!” Sarah said, stopping just short of touching distance. “Listen to me! You can’t do this to Garnet, not after what she’s been through. Your daughter needs you.”

  “She doesn’t need me to shame her!”

  “You won’t, I swear it. Mr. Malloy is here. He’ll tell you himself. He just wanted to make sure you were the one who did it so he could stop the investigation.”

  “But your father won’t stop it. Devries was his friend.”

  She hoisted herself higher, ready to swing her leg over the edge when a gust of wind rattled the cables and threw her backward, dislodging her other foot so for a heart-stopping moment she
swung free, clinging to the cable with both hands.

  With a cry, Sarah threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around Mrs. Richmond’s flailing legs. The force of her struggles slammed Sarah against the side of the bridge.

  “Let me go!” Mrs. Richmond bucked and squirmed, but Sarah held on, refusing to let go, refusing to fail.

  Locked in a desperate embrace, they seemed frozen there for a brief eternity as a roar of voices above protested Sarah’s heroics. Then the shouts were closer and followed by the pounding of running feet, and Malloy was there with his minions.

  He took Mrs. Richmond’s weight and others pried her hands from their death grip on the cable, and then she was down, standing on the pavement, except her knees buckled, and Malloy had to lift her into his arms.

  Sarah was vaguely aware of the shouts still raining down on them from the frustrated gawkers who had been cheated out of a spectacle, but she didn’t care. She was too busy thanking the grim-faced bridge workers who had assisted Malloy as they escorted them back off the bridge.

  Trotting along behind Malloy, Sarah heard Mrs. Richmond ask, “Where are you taking me?”

  “To your daughter,” he said.

  * * *

  WHEN FRANK ARRIVED AT THE DECKER HOUSE SEVERAL hours later, he wasn’t surprised to be immediately escorted into the family parlor. First of all, he was accompanied by the Deckers’ daughter, which would have guaranteed him admittance. Even more important, though, the phone call he had made to Decker from the Devrieses’ house had announced that he would be delivering the solution to Chilton Devries’s death, which made him just as welcome as Sarah.

  Both of the Deckers rose when they were ushered into the family parlor, and Mrs. Decker came forward to greet them. She took Sarah’s hands and raised her cheek for a kiss, but then turned her full attention to Frank, giving him her hand and then covering his with her other one so he wouldn’t release it immediately.

  “Mr. Malloy, you’ve found the truth at last.”

  Frank stared back at her in surprise, not sure what sort of response would be appropriate to this odd remark.

  Mr. Decker saved him the trouble. “I don’t need your subtle reminders, Elizabeth. I am well aware of Mr. Malloy’s accomplishments.”

  Mrs. Decker flashed Frank a conspiratorial smile before releasing his hand. “Of course you are, my dear. Let’s sit down so he can tell us everything.”

  The Deckers sat together on the sofa and Frank and Sarah took the chairs opposite.

  “I’m not sure how much you already know,” Frank said.

  “I haven’t told him anything,” Mrs. Decker said, earning a frown from her husband that she ignored. “I wasn’t sure what was fact and what was theory, so I decided to wait until you had an opportunity to confirm everything.”

  “All right, then,” Frank said, pretending not to notice Sarah’s grin. “You know the story of how Devries tricked Mr. Richmond into an investment scheme that ruined him in order to pressure Garnet to marry Paul.”

  “Yes, so he could conceal Paul’s…uh, proclivities from the world,” Decker said.

  “Is that what it’s called? Proclivities?” Mrs. Decker asked.

  “No,” Decker said. “I’m simply trying to pretend you are too refined to wish to hear anything indelicate.”

  Frank studiously avoided meeting Sarah’s gaze.

  “In the past few months, however, Mrs. Richmond began to sense from Garnet’s letters that something was very wrong with her daughter, so she came to the city to find out what it was.”

  “Garnet was thinking of leaving Paul,” Sarah said.

  “Which would be understandable, under the circumstances,” Mrs. Decker said.

  Mr. Decker sighed. “Mr. Malloy?”

  “We have discovered that the reason Garnet was unhappy was because Mr. Devries had forced himself on her.”

  “Good God!” Decker said.

  “More than once,” Mrs. Decker said. “And she is with child by him.”

  Decker covered his eyes for a long moment while he came to terms with this horror. “Why didn’t Paul stop him?” he asked hoarsely.

  “He didn’t know,” Sarah said. “Garnet finally admitted that she didn’t tell him because Devries had already threatened to claim she had seduced him out of frustration over her husband’s neglect. Paul might not have believed him, but he would have been powerless to stop his father without causing a scandal that would have ruined Garnet.”

  “And Lucretia would certainly have taken Chilton’s side,” Mrs. Decker said.

  “So I assume Garnet is the one who stabbed him,” Decker said.

  “That’s what we thought at first. The morning Devries died, he’d gone to Garnet’s room again, but this time she fought him off, and Paul heard her and came in.”

  “Paul thought it was the first time Devries had tried this, and he had a terrible row with his father,” Sarah said.

  “So Paul stabbed him,” her father said.

  Frank began to feel sorry for him. “I figured it was one or the other, and when I confronted them, they both confessed.”

  “What?”

  “They were trying to protect each other,” Sarah said.

  “So one or the other of them did it,” Decker said.

  Frank shook his head. “Neither one of them knew what kind of a weapon Devries had been stabbed with. The medical examiner had told me it was something the size and shape of an ice pick, but when I asked them what they’d used, they both said a knife, so I knew neither of them had done it.”

  Frank could tell Decker was holding his temper with difficulty, but Mrs. Decker didn’t seem to care.

  “They did find out who killed the valet, though,” she said.

  “Not Paul or Garnet, surely,” Decker said as if it were a prayer.

  “No,” she said smugly. “Lucretia did.”

  “Lucretia?”

  “She thought Paul had stabbed his father,” Frank hastily explained. “And she thought Roderick knew it.”

  “But he couldn’t have known it because it wasn’t true,” Decker said.

  “No,” Sarah said, “but Roderick apparently thought Paul had done it. He actually tried to blackmail Paul, but he failed because Paul didn’t know what he was talking about.”

  Malloy took pity on Decker and finished the tale. “Because Mrs. Devries thought Paul had killed his father and Roderick knew it, she told Paul to dismiss him, then she put poison in the decanter of whiskey and gave it to Roderick to console him.”

  “You’re sure of this?” Decker asked.

  “Positive,” Sarah said. “She practically admitted it.”

  They gave him a moment to absorb this shock. “I don’t suppose she could have stabbed Chilton, not if she thought Paul had done it.”

  “No,” Malloy said.

  “Then who did?” Decker asked, at the end of his patience. “I’m assuming you wouldn’t have come if you didn’t know.”

  “I told you Devries wanted Angotti to have Mrs. Richmond killed,” Malloy reminded him. “We thought it was just because she might help Garnet leave Paul, but now we know Devries had his own reasons for wanting to keep Garnet in his house.”

  “I can see that, yes.”

  “What Angotti didn’t tell me—and Mrs. Richmond didn’t mention when I visited her—was that when Angotti had warned her Devries might try to kill her himself, he gave her a small dagger that she could use to protect herself.”

  “A stiletto with a very thin blade,” Sarah added.

  Frank reached in his pocket, and both the Deckers gasped when he pulled out the beautiful instrument of death. Made like a tiny sword in a yellow enameled scabbard, it looked almost like a lovely toy.

  Frank handed it to Decker to examine. He turned it over in his hand, then pulled the blade from its sheath. The soft clink made Malloy wonder if Devries had recognized that sound as his doom when he’d heard it. “So Chilton had gone to murder her that day?”

  “We knew he�
�d met with Angotti after he left his house, and Angotti told him he was not going to have Mrs. Richmond killed. After that, he disappeared for a couple hours, and when he arrived at the Knickerbocker, he’d been stabbed. Mrs. Richmond didn’t want to talk about it, but your daughter was finally able to coax the story out of her.” Frank turned to Sarah, happy to give her the credit for this.

  She told the rest of it. “Shortly after he left Mr. Angotti, Devries sent Mrs. Richmond a telegram ordering her to meet him at a disreputable hotel. He promised he would have good news about Garnet, but she wasn’t fooled. She knew he was planning to murder her, so she took the knife Angotti had given her and she went to meet him.”

  “But why did she go at all if she knew what he was planning?” Decker asked.

  “Because she was afraid he would come after her if she didn’t. At least this way, she had the advantage of surprise because he didn’t know Angotti had told her.”

  Decker considered this for a moment. “Wait, didn’t you tell me Devries was undressed when he was stabbed?” he asked Frank.

  “That’s why Mrs. Richmond was so reluctant to tell her story,” he said.

  “When she arrived at the hotel room,” Sarah said, “she found him waiting for her with just a towel wrapped around him. He was going to make her submit to him, and then he was going to murder her.”

  Mrs. Decker made a small sound of distress, and Decker automatically reached over and touched her hand, but he never took his gaze from Sarah. “I hope you will believe me when I tell you I had no idea he was capable of these…these abominations.”

  “Of course, Father. We know he kept that side of himself hidden from those he considered his friends.”

  “I hope she stabbed him before he could…do anything,” Mrs. Decker said in a near whisper.

  “She told me she had the knife in her hand when he opened the door. Mr. Angotti had told her to stab him in the throat or the eye—it’s such a small blade, it wouldn’t do much damage otherwise—but she couldn’t bring herself to do that. The instant he turned his back, she stuck it in him.”

  “Good for her!” Mrs. Decker said.

  “He roared, she said, but he didn’t seem to be hurt at all, just angry. She said something in warning, like she’d kill him if he tried to hurt her again or words to that effect. She couldn’t remember exactly. Then she ran out. She walked around the city for hours, fully expecting the police to be waiting for her when she got back to her boardinghouse. When they weren’t, she thought Devries must have been too embarrassed to report her.”