Broghan stared at her for a long moment, then looked at Joanna again. Then he turned to Malloy. “I suppose this other woman has her own story.”
“I don’t know,” he said quite honestly, since Sarah was the one who had prepared the women. “Let’s ask her.”
Sarah helpfully opened the parlor doors and invited Rose Wolfe inside. She gave everyone in the room a quick glance and, apparently satisfied with what she saw, she said to Broghan, “I killed Pendergast.”
“Let me guess,” Broghan said, making no attempt to hide his disgust. “You got out of the cage, which wasn’t really locked. You got a knife from the kitchen, and then you went upstairs and cut Pendergast’s throat from behind.”
“He was busy beating Miss Livingston, so he didn’t hear me come in. Would you like me to show you how I did it?”
“No. So this Andy fellow, he sent you one of his notes, too?”
“Yes, he did.”
“But you burned it.”
“Of course I did. I didn’t want anyone to find it.”
“Did you give him any money?”
“A few dollars. That was all I had.”
“And he tried to take advantage of you, so you stabbed him. Where did you get the knife?”
“I’d hidden it after I killed Pendergast, but I got it before I met with Andy.”
“Where did you hide it?”
“In the cellar. I stuck it down the drain pipe.”
Broghan frowned at this. “How did you get it back out?”
She held out her arm, which was as long as a man’s but very slender. “It wasn’t far down. It had lodged where the pipe turns.”
“And he was going to take advantage of you?” Broghan asked without much enthusiasm.
“He started unbuttoning his pants and telling me what he wanted, so I waited until he came toward me, and I stabbed him.”
Broghan let his gaze drift from one woman to the next until he’d studied them all, including Sarah. Then he turned to Malloy. “You, come with me.”
Malloy followed him out of the room and out of the house.
When the front door closed behind them, Sarah realized she’d been holding her breath, and she let it out with a whoosh.
“Did it work?” Rose asked. “Do you think he believed us?”
“I think he didn’t have any choice,” Sarah said. “He knows two of you are lying, and he may even have a good idea which two, but as long as you stick to your stories, there’s nothing he can do about it.”
“I thought I would die when Mr. Malloy told you to send these two packing,” Joanna said.
“I’m sorry about that,” Sarah said.
“Are you all right?” Grace went to Joanna and knelt beside her chair. “You’ve been through a lot today.”
“Not so much,” she said, trying to smile.
“Well, it’s over now,” Rose said. “For all of us. Isn’t it, Mrs. Brandt?”
“I think so.”
“You’re trembling,” Grace said to Joanna.
“I’ll be fine.” She turned to Sarah. “When can we leave?”
“Now if you like,” Sarah said. “But you won’t get far on that ankle. Let us find a cab for you.”
“Nonsense,” Rose said. “Franchesca sent me in the carriage. We’ll take her wherever she wants to go.”
But Joanna shook her head. “I can get a cab.”
Sarah wasn’t fooled. “Where will you go, Joanna?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Would you go back with Neth?” Rose asked in astonishment.
Joanna glared at her. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. He was good to me.”
“Of course he was good to you,” Rose said. “You’re his mistress.”
“We can’t judge her,” Grace said.
“No, you can’t,” Joanna said. “You’ve got families who took you back. Neth took me out of that place. God knows what would’ve happened to me if he hadn’t.”
“I’ll find you a cab, Joanna,” Sarah said.
“You’ll never find one in this neighborhood,” Rose said, and Sarah knew she was probably right. Cabs might drop someone off here, but they’d think twice about picking someone up so near the notorious Mulberry Bend. “I’ll get the carriage, and we’ll take you wherever you want to go, Joanna. Grace is right. We can’t judge you, and I’m sorry for doing so.”
Rose went out, and the three women sat in awkward silence for a few moments.
“Someone should tell Neth,” Joanna finally said. “He’ll wonder.”
“I’ll go as soon you leave.”
“He’s not evil,” Joanna said. “He’s just weak.”
“You don’t have to settle for that,” Sarah said.
Joanna’s lips curled into a bitter smile, and she turned to where Grace still knelt beside her. “Look at her, telling me I don’t have to settle.”
Grace dropped her gaze and shook her head.
Joanna’s eyes were bleak when she turned back to Sarah. “You’re pretty. You don’t have to settle for anything. But the rest of us, we have to take what we can get. As long as Neth wants me, I’ll have food to eat and a roof over my head, and I’ll never have to open myself for any other man.”
Sarah hated the truths behind her words. “And what happens when he no longer wants you?” she asked as gently as she could.
“I’ll face that when it comes. It can’t be worse than what I’ve faced before.”
Sarah thought that might well be true, and she had no other arguments to make.
Rose returned, and she and Grace helped Joanna out to the carriage. When they were gone, Sarah thanked Mrs. Keller for her help, then walked down to Police Headquarters.
• • •
Broghan was heading in the direction of Police Headquarters, but Frank wasn’t nearly as angry as he was, so he had a little trouble keeping pace. Broghan didn’t even look back to see if Frank was coming until he reached the front stoop and Tom the doorman opened the door for him.
Satisfied Frank was still behind him, he went inside.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Malloy,” Tom said. “Good to see you again.”
“Thanks, Tom. I wish I could say it’s good to be back.”
“You got some business with Detective Sergeant Broghan?”
“Sure do. And do me a favor. If I’m not out of here by nightfall, would you call an attorney for me?”
Tom chuckled at that, although Frank wasn’t positive it was a joke.
Inside, he found Broghan embroiled in a conversation with Neth, who had been waiting for them, thinking they were questioning Joanna inside.
“Malloy!” Neth cried when Frank entered. “What have you done with Joanna?”
“Nothing. In fact, she’s probably already on her way back home.”
“Home? Why didn’t you tell me you’d released her?”
Luckily, he didn’t wait for a reply, because Frank wasn’t sure he had a good one.
“Come with me,” Broghan said, even more furious now that Frank had saved him from Neth.
Broghan marched upstairs and went straight to the chief of detectives’ office, ignoring the sputtering protests of O’Brien’s secretary. O’Brien looked up and frowned at the interruption. Then he saw Frank and actually groaned aloud. “Malloy, I thought I was rid of you.”
“So did I,” Frank said with an apologetic smile.
“What’s this, then?”
“Ask Broghan. He brought me here.”
“He’s trying to put one over on us,” Broghan said. “The Pendergast case.”
O’Brien frowned. “The pervert who kept females in cages?”
Frank managed not to reveal how pleased he was at O’Brien’s description. The chief was a notoriously pious gentleman. “That’s
the one.”
Broghan glared at him, then turned back to O’Brien. “He’s interfering.”
O’Brien raised his eyebrows. “In what way?”
“He’s gotten three of those females to confess to killing Pendergast.”
“Three? Malloy, is that true?” O’Brien asked in amazement.
“It’s true that three of them confessed, but it’s not my doing.”
“Whose doing is it, then?” Broghan demanded. “That woman of yours?”
Frank had already drawn back his arm to give Broghan a lesson he wouldn’t forget, when O’Brien jumped to his feet. “That’s enough, Broghan! You’ll show some respect in my office. Mrs. Brandt is a lady, and you’ll treat her as such, even when she isn’t present. Now apologize at once.”
Broghan looked like he would much rather swallow broken glass, but he said, “I didn’t mean to be disrespectful to Mrs. Brandt.” Then he turned to O’Brien. “But she was with them when I questioned them this afternoon.”
“That true, Malloy?” O’Brien asked, taking his seat again.
“This has been a very sensitive situation, after what the women went through. Mrs. Brandt has been doing what she can to help them.”
“And exactly why are you still involved with these women at all?” O’Brien asked.
“Because Grace Livingston’s father hired me as a private investigator to find her after I left the force.”
O’Brien ran a hand over his face. “Maybe you two should sit down and tell me exactly what’s been going on.”
Frank let Broghan do most of the talking, stopping him only to clarify or correct when necessary.
“And then all three of them tell me exactly how they killed Pendergast and the other fellow,” he concluded.
O’Brien considered the matter for several minutes. “Broghan, you told me about all the people Malloy talked to. Who did you talk to?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what did you do to investigate this case and figure out who the killer is?”
“I told you. I thought it was Grace Livingston until Doc Haynes said it couldn’t be her.”
“So you left it to Malloy to investigate?”
Broghan squirmed a bit in his chair. “He was getting paid to do it.”
O’Brien frowned. “Don’t we pay you to investigate crimes, too?”
“That’s not what I . . . You know what I mean!”
“I’m afraid I do. So you’re telling me you made no effort to figure out who killed this Pendergast character, and now you’re complaining because Malloy has found three killers who have even confessed?”
“Yes, I am, because we can’t bring three people to trial for the same murder!”
“That’s true,” O’Brien said. “So you think the women got together and decided to all confess so we wouldn’t know which one really did it?”
“Of course they did,” Broghan said. “And Malloy put them up to it.”
“Malloy, is that true?”
Frank shook his head. “I’d already figured out which one I thought it was, and then one of the women hired a lawyer. After that, they all claimed to have done it.”
“A lawyer,” O’Brien said. “I should’ve known. So, Broghan, how important do you think it is to punish one of these women for killing a piece of scum like Pendergast?”
Broghan straightened in his chair. He might have been a worthless drunk, but he wasn’t stupid, and no one could have mistaken O’Brien’s unspoken message. “Well, when you put it like that, sir, not important at all.”
“That’s exactly how I’m putting it. So you’ll pigeonhole this case, and if anybody ever asks you about it, you send them to me.”
Broghan shot Frank a black look, but he said, “Yes, sir.”
“And Malloy?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you going to keep interfering in police investigations?”
“Not if I can help it, sir.”
“That’s too bad.”
• • •
Mrs. Brandt, how nice to see you,” Tom said as he opened the door for her at Police Headquarters. “Are you looking for Mr. Malloy?”
“Is he here?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. He came in with Detective Sergeant Broghan. He said to send for an attorney if he wasn’t out by sundown,” he reported with a smile.
“The same goes for me, then,” she told him, smiling back. “I’m really looking for a man named Vernon Neth. He was waiting for his lady friend.”
“Nicely dressed gentleman? Kind of a weak chin?”
“The same.”
“He ran out of here just after Mr. Malloy went inside.”
“Well, then, I’ll just wait inside for Mr. Malloy.”
Inside, the desk sergeant greeted her and asked how she was doing. They were still chatting when Malloy and Broghan came back downstairs. Broghan didn’t look quite as annoyed as he had earlier, although he didn’t linger to chat.
When they were back out on the street, Malloy told her what had happened.
“O’Brien actually said he was sorry you wouldn’t be interfering in any more police cases?” she said.
“He might’ve just been joking.”
“Is he a joking man?”
“Not that I’ve ever noticed.”
Sarah smiled. “So Broghan is going to let it drop?”
“He doesn’t have any choice, but I told him he could have my fee from Livingston as a reward, so he’s not as disappointed as he might’ve been.”
“That’s generous of you.”
He shrugged. “Like you said, I’m rich now. I can afford to pay bribes.”
“I don’t think I said it like that.”
“Yes, you did. But let’s not argue. I’m starving, so I’m going to take you to a nice restaurant.”
“I’m not dressed for a nice restaurant.”
“Then I’ll take you to a not-so-nice restaurant, and you can tell me what happened to our three confessed killers.”
• • •
SO she went back to Neth?” Maeve asked when Sarah had finished telling her the whole story that night after Catherine was safely in bed.
“She feels like she doesn’t have a choice. She’s convinced her family won’t want her back, and she doesn’t think she’s likely to find a husband to provide for her.”
“I don’t ever want to be that dependent on a man.”
Sarah sighed. “I wish we lived in a world where women had other choices besides getting married or slaving in a sweatshop for starvation wages or selling herself in the street.”
“You supported yourself all this time since your husband died.”
“Yes, but few women can do that. I was lucky.”
“So, are you going to try to find the other women that Pendergast kidnapped?” Maeve asked after a moment.
“Yes. I feel obligated, and Malloy refuses to let me go alone, so he’s going with me. We already know that two of them are safe and two of them died.”
“And one of them is with Neth.”
“I’m not sure we know which family is Joanna’s, but I’m going to visit them all, even if I figure it out, because maybe I can find out if she’s wrong about them not wanting her back. Then for the families whose loved ones didn’t come home, I’ll have to break the news that they might be dead.”
“But at least they’ll know what happened.”
“That’s true. Malloy is going to try to find out if any unidentified women’s bodies were found in churchyards, as Neth claimed Pendergast had told him. Maybe the families can identify and claim them.”
Maeve shuddered. “I thought I knew just how evil men could be, but now . . .”
“I know. I just hope the women who were Pendergast’s victims can recover from what he
did to them.”
“Knowing he’s dead should help. I just wonder . . .”
“What?” Sarah asked when Maeve hesitated.
“I just wonder how well Vernon Neth will sleep at night knowing Joanna has already killed two men.”
• • •
The next few days were difficult, as Sarah and Malloy visited the addresses in the letters Frank had found in Pendergast’s desk. Frank had found the churches where Pendergast had left the bodies of the two of his victims who had committed suicide at his house. The police had kept descriptions of the bodies and the clothing they were wearing. Still, the descriptions could have fit thousands of women in the city.
Of the ten houses they visited, they found that only five of the victims had made it back to their families. Sarah was able to tell those five women that Pendergast and Andy were dead, at least. They were enormously relieved to know they needed never fear encountering them again. None of them had told their families exactly what had happened to them, preferring to hide behind a story of having been seduced and abandoned by an unscrupulous man. The shame of that was bad enough, but it was something their families could understand. Of the other five families, one of them belonged to Joanna and the others, well, she had to tell them about the two women who had died. They would probably never learn what had become of the two women who had simply never returned home.
As Sarah had hoped, they were able to identify which family was Joanna’s, though her name, they determined, was actually Joan Marie. They had decided that the best strategy was to ask for the missing woman at each home, as they had when they’d called on Rose Wolfe’s family. That way, if the woman had made it safely home, they would know instantly and could simply meet with her alone. If she had not, the family would demand to know who they were and why they had come asking for a woman who had been missing for months or even years.
Joanna’s family was no different. Her father turned out to be a minister, judging by his clerical collar, and he met them in the parlor with a woman who appeared to be no older than Joanna herself. Neither of them looked happy to see them.
Murder in Murray Hill (Gaslight Mystery) Page 26
