“Ah, touché,” he said. “I forget, you know my ugly secrets.”
“Do I?” she asked.
“Well, you know about my fondness for shop girls, at least,” he replied with a secretive grin.
“Is there more, then? What other ugly secrets could you have?”
“None I would share with a lady,” he replied.
“Do you share them with your shop girls?”
He frowned at this. “Is that why we came? So you could berate me for my lapses in judgment?”
“Is that what you consider them?” She didn’t wait for an answer, knowing he wouldn’t admit to it. “No, I’m just curious. How did you happen to discover that you had a ... a fondness for shop girls in the first place?”
“Oh, Sarah, you really can’t be interested in hearing about my follies,” he protested uneasily.
“Nonsense, I’m fascinated. Are you doing it to embarrass your family? Are you planning to bring one of these girls home one day and present her as the future Mrs. Dirk Schyler?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He seemed shocked at the very idea.
“But you are trying to rebel, aren’t you? Why else would you keep company with girls of that sort?”
He was plainly uncomfortable discussing this, which was all the better. “I’ve never given the matter any thought,” he insisted.
“Well, think about it now,” she insisted right back. “At first I thought it was just that you ... Well, I’ve been married, so I understand that a man has needs. I thought you were simply using these girls to meet those needs. But then I realized that a man of your means could keep a mistress to satisfy him in that way if that was all he was interested in. Such an arrangement would be safer, surely. You wouldn’t have to worry about disease or even about possible rejection. Surely, all these girls don’t succumb to your seductions, Dirk.”
“Sarah, you shock me,” he said, his voice hoarse with disbelief.
“Do I? I’ve shocked many people with my attitudes. That’s what comes of living alone and earning your own living, I suppose. You lose all sense of what is proper. I thought I’d found a soul mate in you, however. I thought you were a man who understood what it’s like to break the bonds of society. At least tell me how you first discovered an interest in pursuing these girls.”
“Are you thinking of following in my footsteps?” he asked in an effort to put her on the defensive.
“Perhaps,” she allowed with a small smile.
He smiled back, reluctantly. “I was coerced,” he said. “In the beginning, at least. My friends were bored one evening, and one of them said he knew a place where we could meet some attractive ... uh ... harlots. He took us to one of those places where they have dances. We asked the door-man to introduce us, but he insisted that he was unable to tell the respectable girls from the other kinds, and he left us to our own devices.”
“And were you able to tell?”
“Not at all,” Dirk assured her, warming to the story. “They all looked alike. And they all seemed quite pleased to have such well-dressed gentlemen paying attention to them. We bought drinks for some of them and engaged them to dance. Their behavior was quite outrageous, but they were insulted when we offered them money for their favors. My friends quickly lost interest when they learned they had been misled about the kind of female who frequents such dances, but I was intrigued.”
“You like a challenge,” she guessed.
He shrugged. “What man doesn’t?”
Indeed, she knew few who didn’t. “So you rose to that challenge.”
“I went back on another night, alone. This time I met a young woman who wasn’t quite so coy.” He grinned, a smile that chilled Sarah’s blood, but she managed to smile back.
“Your first conquest?” she asked, tempting him to brag.
“Ah, a gentleman never tells,” he replied.
“Does a gentleman seduce shop girls?” she countered.
He pretended to be offended. “Sarah, you cut me to the heart.”
“That assumes you have one, Dirk.”
“How cruel you are. When you lived in your father’s house, I’m sure you had better manners.”
“No, I didn’t,” she said. “I just had less opportunity to prove it.”
She surprised a bark of laughter from him. The sound wasn’t pleasant. “Are we quarreling?” he asked.
“Are you angry?”
“Not yet, but I can’t promise not to become so if you continue to insult me.”
“I can’t resist a challenge either,” she confessed. “What if I told you that all the murdered girls were killed after attending a dance? And they also had one other, very important thing in common.”
“What was that?”
“They all knew a man named Will.”
Dirk didn’t so much as blink. “You told me this before, and I believe I pointed out that it’s a fairly common name.”
“They all knew the same man named Will. A man who gave them all gifts right before they were murdered.”
He gave her a pitying look. “I’ll admit I don’t know as much about murder and murderers as your friend the policeman, but is it common practice for killers to give their victims gifts before murdering them?”
It did sound strange, but everything about this was strange. “We believe this man named Will seduced these girls, and when they succumbed, he became enraged and beat them to death.”
“Sarah, my dear, that is preposterous. Who would believe that a man would become enraged and kill a woman because she submitted to him? Isn’t it usually just the opposite?”
“Yes, it is, which is why this case has been so difficult to solve. But just the other day, we discovered a clue that puts everything into perspective.”
“A clue?” She had his interest once again. “What kind of clue?”
“We have a photograph of the man named Will, Dirk. I don’t think it will surprise you to learn that it’s a picture of you.”
She watched the play of emotions across his face. Surprise came first, but the others followed so rapidly, she couldn’t even keep track, much less identify each one. The final one was, of all things, amusement.
“You think I killed those girls?” he asked in astonishment.
She didn’t want to admit it. She wanted to be wrong.
“You knew them all,” she reminded him.
“So you say. I don’t know which girls were murdered, so I can’t deny it. But I know dozens of girls like that, Sarah, much as it must shame me to admit it. Surely, not all of them have been murdered. Not a tenth of them, or the newspapers would have been raising a hue and cry against such a slaughter!”
“We don’t know why the victims were singled out,” Sarah said.
“And who is this we you keep talking about? You and that Irishman? Sarah, don’t you know anything at all about the police? They’re nothing more than uniformed criminals themselves! That detective—what’s his name?”
“Malloy,” Sarah supplied.
“Malloy,” he repeated, making a face as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth. “I already told you why he’s so interested in this case, if you don’t. He doesn’t care who killed these girls. He’s only pretending to in order to impress you. Any fool can see he has designs on you, Sarah. He must consider you quite a prize to spend so much time chasing a killer of women no better than prostitutes. Why should he care how many of them die? The world would be a better place with fewer such creatures in it!”
“Dirk!” she cried, horrified by his attitude, although she knew far too many others shared it. She could also have set him straight about Malloy’s interest in her, but she didn’t think it was worth the effort.
“Don’t bother to be offended, Sarah. You’ve accused me of murder. I think I’ve got a right to be offensive in return.”
“Can you explain how you happen to know all the dead girls?” she asked.
“I told you, I know dozens of these girls, dead and alive. I’ve give
n them gifts and enjoyed their favors. At least give me an opportunity to defend myself. I probably have an alibi for the crimes. When were these girls killed? I’ll consult my calendar and give you a full report!” He seemed genuinely offended.
Sarah was starting to feel foolish. Although she wanted him to be innocent, she hadn’t really considered the possibility that he was. “Dirk, really, this isn’t necessary.”
“Of course it is. I can see I must prove myself to you or live under a cloud of suspicion for the rest of my life. Tell me. You must know when these girls died. What about this Gretel, the one you knew? You must have the date of her death engraved in your memory.”
Sarah wanted to deny it, but she did know the date. “Her name was Gerda. She died on the night of July sixth.”
He stared at her for a moment, then slowly a smile spread across his face. “I knew it. I thought I’d have to go home and check, but that’s a date I’ll never forget. Timothy Vandervort. You remember him. He got married a few weeks ago. I was his best man. That was the night we had a bachelor party for him. There were about twenty of us. We had a suite at the Plaza Hotel, and several young ladies came to ... uh ... to entertain us. All of the men are from the best families in New York, and every one of them will vouch for the fact that I was there with them all night. So you see, I could not possibly have killed your poor little Gerda.”
Malloy would make discreet inquiries, of course, but she knew Dirk wouldn’t lie about something that could be so easily disproved. He wasn’t the killer.
“What’s the matter, Sarah? You look disappointed.”
“No, I... I’m just so relieved,” she said, realizing that she was. So relieved that she was weak from it.
“Here, let’s find a bench,” Dirk said, taking her arm and leading her over to where two old men were sitting, feeding crumbs to the pigeons. “Excuse me,” he said to them. “The lady is feeling faint. Do you mind?”
They jumped up and scurried away, allowing Sarah to sit down just before her knees gave out completely. She felt like a complete fool.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked solicitously.
Now she felt guilty. The man she’d just accused of murdering half a dozen young women was concerned about her welfare. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. I just ... Oh, Dirk, I’m so sorry. How could I have ever believed ... ?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, looking hurt. “How could you?”
“Everything seemed to suggest ... And then Lisle was killed, right after I told you about her.”
“Lisle?”
“She was the one I said was most likely to have had a beau that Gerda would want to steal. She was murdered just a few days later.”
“Good God, how awful.”
“And Malloy found a photograph of you and Lisle that had been taken here at the park. She’d written the name Will on the back of it.”
“So Malloy’s the one who convinced you I’m a killer,” he said, thinking he understood everything.
Had he? Sarah couldn’t really remember. She’d thought it had been her own conclusion, but now she wasn’t sure. And Malloy hated Dirk. That much was certain. He’d wanted Dirk to be the killer. Had his prejudice colored his judgment? Had she let it color her own? She didn’t know. All she knew was that Dirk was innocent. Well, perhaps not innocent. His conduct had been too degenerate for that. but at least he wasn’t guilty of murder.
“Is that why you brought me here, to get me to confess to you?” he asked. He seemed to be amused again.
“It does sound silly, when you say it out like that, doesn’t it? Even if you were the killer, that hardly seems likely to happen. I’m terribly sorry, Dirk. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I’m not sure,” he said with amazing good nature. “But I will allow you to grovel a bit to get back in my good graces before I decide.”
“You’re very generous,” she allowed.
He shook his head in wonder as he considered the situation. “I can’t believe you came here alone with me if you believed I’d murdered those girls.”
Sarah had an urge to look around for Malloy, but she resisted. She didn’t want to alarm Malloy, and she didn’t want Dirk to know the extent of their folly. It was enough that she was embarrassed. No use embarrassing Malloy, too.
“We’re hardly alone, Dirk,” she pointed out, glancing meaningfully at the throngs of people passing by. “All the murders were committed in the city, in the dark of night.”
“And Malloy agreed to this idiotic plan?” he asked incredulously.
“I ... I didn’t tell him,” she lied. No use making Malloy look as foolish as she did.
“Oh, Sarah, I thought you were such a sensible woman. When I think of what could have happened if you’d confronted the real killer this way...”
“I know.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “I suppose I’m not cut out to be a detective. I should leave that to the police.”
Dirk made a rude noise, reminding her of how infrequently the police did any detecting of their own. She ignored him, choosing instead to begin making up for her ugly suspicions.
“I suppose you’ll want to go back to the city now.”
“Why?” He seemed genuinely surprised at the suggestion.
“Because I can’t imagine you want to spend any more time with me after the way I treated you.”
He shook his head again. “Sarah, you may find this hard to believe, but I’m actually sort of flattered.”
“Flattered?” She couldn’t believe it.
“Do you know, I believe this is the most interesting thing that has ever happened to me? I shall have the most fascinating story to tell at my club, about how I was suspected of murder! It’s too delicious.”
Sarah could hardly believe anyone would be bragging about such a thing to his friends, but Dirk seemed actually delighted.
“And we most certainly will not return to the city, at least not yet,” he went on, his face alight with excitement. “First we will enjoy the amusements to be found here, we will eat a delicious dinner, and then we will dance under the stars. I want to remember this day forever.”
Sarah didn’t want to remember it at all, but she couldn’t be rude, certainly not after the way she’d treated Dirk. If he wanted to spend the day here, she’d do her best to help him enjoy himself. She knew a pang of guilt over knowing Malloy would be traipsing around after them all day, but perhaps she could slip away at some point and tell him what had happened so he could go home. She pasted a smile on her face and said, “What would you like to do first?”
“Let’s ride on the Ferris wheel.”
Sarah found this the most pleasant of all the rides at the park, so she readily agreed. The line was long, but it moved quickly since the wheel was large and held many cars. Dirk was in boisterous good humor, almost unnaturally so. She tried to match his enthusiasm, but her heart wasn’t in it. She didn’t really like him, after all. Even if he wasn’t a killer, he’d taken terrible advantage of many young women to satisfy his own lusts, and she could never overlook such a damning character flaw. When this day was over, she would make a point of never encountering him again.
When they reached the head of the line, Dirk stepped over to the ride operator and spoke quietly to him, slipping something into the fellow’s shirt pocket.
“What did you say to him?” she asked when he returned.
“I asked him to give us an extra-long ride. And to make sure we stop on the very top. The view is breathtaking.” He smiled, eager for her approval, and she gladly gave it. She couldn’t fault him for trying to make sure she had the best time possible, could she?
At last it was their turn. Dirk helped her into the car, then took his place beside her. The attendant fastened the gate across the front and then stepped back as their car swung up a notch to allow the people on the next car to exit and new ones take their place.
Soon they were halfway up, stopped momentarily for another car to load, whe
n Dirk began to rock the car back and forth.
“What are you doing?” she cried in alarm, grabbing onto the gate for support.
“Are you frightened, Sarah?” he asked without a trace of concern. “Don’t worry, the car won’t tip over.” He lurched forward, leaning over the gate, so that the car tipped so far forward, Sarah could imagine them both tumbling out to their deaths.
“Dirk, stop it!” she cried, bracing her feet and clutching the back of the seat with one hand while still clinging to the gate with the other.
The wheel lurched into motion again. carrying them up another notch. When they stopped, the car swayed, and Dirk made it rock dangerously again.
Sarah saw his expression, and then she understood. He was frightening her on purpose, punishing her for her suspicions. “This is childish, Dirk. I told you I was sorry.”
“You’re going to be even sorrier, Sarah,” he assured her. “You know, you weren’t far wrong when you suspected me of murder.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I am a murderer, Sarah.” He smiled, and the coldness in his eyes chilled her to her bones.
“What do you mean?” She was glad to hear her voice sounded almost normal.
“Just what I said. It happened by accident the first time. I didn’t mean to kill the miserable little wench. She was just another one of those whores. You wouldn’t believe how cheaply they sell themselves. Sarah. A string of glass beads or a pair of gloves, and they’ll lift their skirts practically on a street corner.”
The wheel lurched again, and they rose another notch. At least Dirk had forgotten about rocking the car. He was too engrossed in his story.
“They’re disgusting, Sarah. They whimper and moan and pretend they enjoy it while you’re pressing them against a wall in a filthy alley. Even while I was using them, I hated them. I despised them. Each time the urge to punish them somehow got stronger and stronger, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’d just finished with her, and she was simpering, pretending it had been so lovely when it was cheap and dirty and disgusting, so I hit her. I used an open palm the first time. A gentleman would never strike a woman with his fist, you know. You should have seen the look on her face. She was so surprised that I hit her again. She ran away, but I’ll never forget that feeling of triumph.”
Murder on St. Mark's Place Page 23