by Rhys Bowen
“I have enough to worry about at the moment on my own behalf, without having to worry about you. You have to stop taking these absurd risks, do you hear?”
“As to that, I was taking no risk at all,” I said calmly. “I merely wished to be invisible on a city street. Besides, I earned twenty cents for my pains, sweeping a crossing.”
I reached into my pocket and produced the coins. He looked at them and suddenly burst out laughing. “Molly Murphy, what am I going to do with you?”
“Right now you could tell me why you didn’t write all the time you were away,” I said, “and then I suppose you could kiss me.”
“Didn’t write? You knew where I was.”
“Daniel, you said you’d be away for a couple of days over the holiday,” I said angrily. “It turned into a couple of weeks. I was concerned. Besides, I thought you might possibly be missing me.” I pulled away from him. “But since you obviously weren’t, I see little point in standing out here in the snow discussing it. I’m freezing to death in these clothes. I need to get inside.”
I stomped ahead of him to my front door. Daniel followed. I opened the door, then turned to face him. “And another thing, what were you doing at my doorstep at this hour of the night?”
“It’s only ten,” he said, “and I wanted to make sure you were all right as soon as I returned to the city.”
“Well thank you kindly, sir. As you can see, I’m hale and hearty.” I went to shut the door. He put out his hand to block me.
“Are you not going to invite me in, Molly? When I’ve come all this way in the snow?”
“What, and risk compromising my reputation?” I said. “A young woman who lives alone and admits a man to her house late at night risks terrible censure from society.”
At this he laughed again. “Now you sound exactly like Arabella. Since when did you ever care a fig what society thought of you?”
“I might have turned over a new leaf, while you’ve been away,” I said. “I may have need of a respectable suitor someday.”
“Molly, don’t torment me like this,” Daniel said suddenly and pushed his way into the front hall beside me. “You know what I’ve been going through recently.”
“Too busy to write to me whatever it was,” I said. “What happened—did you get invited to such brilliantly fashionable parties with Arabella’s set that you couldn’t turn them down?”
“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “It’s been a worrying time. My father caught a nasty grippe that we feared would turn into pneumonia. For a while it was touch and go, so I couldn’t leave in such circumstances. I was at his bedside day and night. You know how frail his heart has become.”
At this news of course I felt rather silly and shallow. “Is your father now recovered?” I asked.
“Mercifully yes, thank God. And then the snowstorm stranded me for a few extra days, and my mother was trying to persuade me to stay even longer.”
“Ah, you did finally tell them the truth about your predicament?”
“I told my mother something of it—that I was having a spot of bother with the current commissioner of police.”
“Daniel, you promised you were going to level with them. How can you let your own family go on believing that you’re still flourishing as a captain of police when you’re in such deep trouble?”
His eyes flashed dangerously. “What did you expect me to say to a man with a weak heart—to an ex-policeman who retired with full honors? That his son had been kicked out of the force in disgrace, accused of being in the pay of a gang?”
“No, I suppose in the circumstances . . . ,” I said weakly.
“And as you pointed out yourself, John Partridge is only police commissioner until January. I have to be patient for another month and then who knows. Maybe someone more sympathetic to my cause might be chosen for the job.”
“I’m sure your fortunes will change, Daniel,” I said. “John Partridge is only being stubborn. He already knows you were set up. It would be most unfair to keep you on suspension any longer. You’re one of their best men. They’d be fools if they didn’t reinstate you, with an apology.”
“Let’s hope they are not fools then,” Daniel said. He stood there staring at me.
“What?” I asked.
“You look damned alluring in that ridiculous outfit, with that smudge on your nose and those wisps of red hair escaping from that cap.” He ran his finger experimentally down my nose and over my lips.
My resolve had never been strong where Daniel Sullivan was concerned and I could feel it melting. “I think you should probably go, Daniel,” I said. “Before we both act imprudently.”
“You’re right. We wouldn’t want to act imprudently,” he said, his eyes challenging mine. “But as I recall you yourself invited me to kiss you not a few moments ago.”
“As long as it just stops with a kiss,” I said. “Our kisses have a habit of progressing to something more, and in our present situation . . .”
“I understand,” Daniel said. “If only things were different. If I had prospects . . .” He let the end of the sentence trail off into silence.
I took his hands. “Daniel, don’t worry too much. I’m sure it will all be all right in the end.”
“I’m trying to share your optimism,” he said, “but if you’d been through what I’ve just experienced . . .”
I thought it wiser not to mention my own recent experiences. Men like to believe that they have the harder lot. I reached up and stroked his cheek, then recoiled. “You haven’t shaved, Captain Sullivan. Shame on you coming to visit a young woman without attending to your toilet first.”
At this he laughed, grabbed my wrists, and drew me close to him. “I recall another occasion when you were not so particular about the state of my whiskers,” he said.
I recalled that occasion all too well. “And it is not to be repeated until your situation is resolved,” I said, putting my hands on his jacket front and exerting firm pressure to keep him at bay.
He nodded. “Very well then. One kiss and I’ll go. But tomorrow let us have fun for once. The snow up in Westchester County was amazing. I’d love to show you what it looks like—not gray city slush, but untouched sparkling whiteness. I’m sure you’ve never seen such snow in Ireland.”
“You want us to go up to Westchester? I’m afraid that’s not possible. I have a case I’m working on.”
“Then not as far as Westchester. Surely you can spare some time for Central Park. They have an ice-skating rink and children will be tobogganing. We could take a sleigh ride. You can spare an hour or two for that, can’t you, Molly?”
I was truly weakening this time. “I’m sure I can,” I said. “The man I am following is safely at work in his office during the day with no time for getting into trouble.”
Daniel beamed as if I’d just given him a gift. “Then I’ll call for you at eleven. How long has it been since we had a day’s outing together?”
“Too long,” I agreed.
“Until tomorrow then.” He took me in his arms and kissed me gently on the lips. Our lips were still cold from the frigid night air, but they quickly warmed up, as did Daniel. The kiss turned from chaste to demanding and before I allowed myself to respond, I stopped him. “Daniel, no.” I held him away, my hands on his cheeks. “Not wise. Go home.”
“If you insist,” he said with a sigh, and went.
FOUR
Of course the moment I had shut my front door I regretted sending him away, and the very next moment I remembered something else. I had promised to have luncheon with Sid, Gus, and their friend, the intriguing Nelly Bly. Now what was I going to do? I dearly wanted to do both. I debated the matter and in the end Daniel won out. I reasoned that Sid and Gus had their guest to entertain them, whereas Daniel had been through such hard times that he needed me more than they did.
So early next morning I went across Patchin Place to explain, and to beg to postpone our luncheon by one day. My friends naturally found this am
using.
“You see, Gus. What did I tell you? I knew she’d cast us aside the moment that man walked back into the picture. He snaps his fingers and she drops everything to attend to him,” Sid said with a wink.
“I do not, in normal circumstances,” I replied hotly. “It’s just that it’s been so long since Daniel and I had a chance to behave like a normal couple and go out to enjoy ourselves. I assure you that I do not come running every time Daniel Sullivan snaps his fingers.”
“Do you think we should let her off just this once, Gus?” Sid asked.
“She obviously enjoys this man’s company, although I can’t think why,” Gus replied.
“I suppose he is what might be described as handsome, in a roguish way.”
“And he may be trying to make amends for his past behavior.”
They were both watching me with amusement as they carried on this conversation.
“If you must know,” I said, interrupting, “I really want to see the ice-skating and tobogganing in Central Park. I’ve never experienced such things in my life. It doesn’t really snow in my part of Ireland.”
“Of course.” They nodded sagely together. “That would be the only reason.”
“You two are quite exasperating sometimes,” I exclaimed. “But I do beg your forgiveness for my rudeness. Please apologize to your friend Elizabeth and tell her I look forward to taking lunch with her tomorrow.”
As I went to leave, Gus called after me, “And what do you plan to wear for this outing in Central Park?”
“Certainly not my waif’s britches,” I said. “I do have that big woolen cape. That should keep me warm.”
“Quite wrong,” Gus said, looking at Sid, who nodded.
“Well, I don’t possess one of those delightful outfits trimmed with white fur that one sees in the women’s magazines,” I said. “The woolen cape is the only warm outer garment I own.”
“You have the very thing, don’t you, Gus?” Sid said.
“I do, indeed.” Gus rushed up the stairs and soon reappeared holding a mid-length red velvet cape, lined with fur.
“Holy Mother of God,” I exclaimed as Gus thrust it at me. “I couldn’t possibly wear this.”
“You don’t think the color goes well with your red hair?”
“Not at all. But it’s much too fine. I couldn’t borrow such a garment from you without worrying that I’d spoil it.”
“Nonsense.” Gus laughed. “I hardly ever wear it. Better you give it an outing than to let the moths have their way with it. Go on. Take it. Dazzle Daniel and everyone else in Central Park with your appearance.”
She insisted on trying it on me and I left their house feeling like a queen.
Daniel’s eyes widened when I appeared at the front door in all my finery. “You look—absolutely stunning,” he said. “New clothes? Your detective agency must be doing well.”
“Only borrowed for the occasion,” I said, “but my agency is doing remarkably well. I’ve had one assignment after another since I got back from Ireland. I rather think that Mr. Tommy Burke was pleased enough with me to refer me to his friends.”
“It’s nice to know that the trip to Ireland turned out to be successful after all,” Daniel said. He slipped my arm through his and escorted me down Patchin Place. Turned out successful after all, I thought grimly. One brother killed, one banished, and I could never go home again. Hardly a resounding success. But at least I had put Tommy Burke in touch with his lost sister. Maybe his money would help the freedom movement and somehow help make up for its lost leader.
“Watch your step!” Daniel snatched me back as I was about to walk out into the path of a carriage charging down Greenwich Avenue at a ridiculous pace.
“Right,” he said. “Let’s see where we can best hail a cab.”
“Daniel, you can’t afford this anymore,” I said without thinking. I saw from the set of his jaw that this was the wrong thing to say. I had just been telling him how my business was flourishing, and now I reminded him that he was on suspension with no pay until he knew of the outcome of his case.
A cab drew up beside us and I got in without saying another word.
“So what case are you working on that involves dressing up as a ragged boy?” he asked.
“Very simple, really. A Jewish couple wants to make sure that the young man the matchmaker has found for their daughter is all that she says he is.”
“And is he?”
“So far his behavior has been beyond reproach. I followed him to Forty-second Street—”
“Aha,” Daniel said.
“—where he was collecting a suit from his tailor,” I finished.
“If your case involves the Jewish community, you should ask your friend Mr. Singer to do some snooping on your behalf,” Daniel said. “Do you ever see Mr. Singer these days?”
I knew the comment was meant as a barb. There had been a time I had considered marrying Jacob Singer, when Daniel had still been engaged to Arabella Norton and I had believed we had no hope for a future together.
“I haven’t seen him in a while,” I said. “Besides, he wouldn’t move in the same circles as this Mr. Roth. Jacob is active among the poor and downtrodden. This young man is a recent Yale graduate who is employed in the family shipping business and dines out at the best restaurants.”
“He sounds highly suitable,” Daniel said. “Why are these people employing you?”
“To find out if he has any hidden vices,” I said, giving Daniel a wicked smile.
“And has he?”
“Not that I’ve yet discovered, but most men do, you know.”
Daniel looked at me, then sighed. “And so you are fully occupied while I sit twiddling my thumbs. It’s all wrong, isn’t it? Men are supposed to be out earning the daily crust while young ladies are supposed to sit home idly playing the piano or doing their embroidery, waiting for their lord and master to return.”
“Not this young lady,” I exclaimed. “I’ve never had an idle day in my life and if I did I should die of boredom, as, I suspect, most women in such situations do. And we are only speaking of the privileged few. For most women their life is drudgery from sun up to sun down.”
“True enough,” Daniel agreed, “although I hope there will come a future time when you are content to learn to play the role of housewife and mother.”
“We’ll have to see about that, won’t we,” I said.
He went to say something but I stopped him. “Let’s not talk about it anymore,” I said, patting his hand as one would calm a child. “As you said yourself, today is for having fun. We’re nearly there. Look how the snow sparkles in the sun.”
The cab pulled up beside the wrought-iron gates leading into Central Park. The cabbie jumped down and helped me from the cab as if I were a fine lady. Daniel paid and then offered me his arm. I felt like a fine lady as we swept together into Central Park. Just as we were about to enter, a surprised voice called, “Why, Captain Sullivan, sir!” And the constable on guard saluted Daniel.
“Hello, Jones,” Daniel said. “How are you?”
“Fair to middling, sir,” the constable said. “Can’t complain and this duty is pleasant enough. A few pickpockets, lost children, lost keys, and that’s about it. Except that today we’ve been told to be on the lookout for a burglar from New Haven, Connecticut.”
“A burglar from Connecticut? Must be a special kind of burglar to have them alert the New York police.”
“Ah well, as to that I couldn’t say. But he may be behind a string of robberies and he’s killed those who tried to stop him.”
“What makes them think he’s coming to the city?”
“His getaway vehicle was found, having run into a tree on the highway in the Bronx. He’s currently a student at Yale, which would explain the New Haven burglaries, but his family lives here in New York and the police suspect that he may have been trying to get home. Halsted is the name. Society man, too, if you can imagine.”
“That na
me rings a bell,” Daniel said. “Halsted. Now, where have I met him?”
“If you meet him again, be sure to arrest him,” the constable said with a chuckle. “That would put you back in their good books, wouldn’t it? I tell you straight, Captain Sullivan, we need you back on the job with all that’s going on at the moment.”
“Oh, really? What is going on?” Daniel asked.
“Well, there’s this new Italian gang, for one thing. Straight from Sicily, so I gather, and meaner than anything we’ve seen so far. They make the Eastmans look like pussycats.”
“Do they, indeed. What do they call themselves,” Daniel asked, “and where are they operating?”
“They’ve no defined territory as far as I know, but they’re behind all kinds of criminal activities—protection rackets mostly, but robbery, violence, extortion, murder—you name it and they’ve a hand in it.”
“Like the Black Hand boys?”
“Like them, but worse. The Black Hand thugs keep to their neighborhoods. These guys seem to be operating all over. And they’d kill a man as soon as look at him. They call themselves the Cosa Nostra. No idea what that might mean. It’s Italian, sure enough.”
“Just what we needed, another gang,” Daniel said with a bitter laugh. “Let’s hope we can nip this one in the bud and stop them before they take hold. There are plenty of Italians to recruit into gangs in New York.”
“You’re telling me, Captain. Plenty of trouble, too. And you try getting one of them to squeal. They’ve got this code of silence and we just won’t break it. Now if they put you on the job, sir, you’d know what to do. When do you think you’re coming back?”
“I wish I knew, Jones,” Daniel said. “I’m being kept in limbo—on purpose, I’m sure. But if we get a new police commissioner in January, he may show more sense than this current fool.”
“I do hope so, sir.” He looked around. “I should be getting back to work and I should let you enjoy your stroll with your young lady.” He saluted again as Daniel and I walked on.
“One of the best,” Daniel said. “One of the few that didn’t turn against me.”
“I’m sure none of them is against you, now that the truth is out.”