Murder on Marble Row

by Victoria Thompson

  Frank pushed him a little harder. “He wouldn’t be the first young man to do something stupid for love.”

  “Killing your father is more than just stupid, Detective,” Creighton said stiffly.

  “If your anarchists friends didn’t do it, someone else did,” Frank reminded him. “Most of the people who could’ve wanted him dead are relatives.”

  “Do you think Bertie could’ve killed him?” he asked, angry now. “I can just see her carrying a bomb to Father’s office and wiring it to explode. Or maybe Lilly. She could’ve gone down there one evening when Father thought she was at a concert or a play and planted the bomb.”

  “Either one of them could’ve gotten a man to do it for them,” Frank said provocatively.

  “Oh, yes,” Creighton agreed bitterly. “Bertie is a well-known seductress. I can think of any number of men who would’ve gladly sacrificed themselves just for a touch of her hand.”

  “Well, there’s at least one,” Frank said.

  Creighton didn’t believe him. “No man has called on her in years!”

  “That’s because your father wouldn’t let him.”

  “Who is it?” he challenged. Plainly he didn’t believe Frank knew.

  “Lewis Reed.”

  “Reed?” he echoed in surprise, and then his head snapped up, and he looked in the direction of the back parlor, where Sarah had told him Alberta and Reed were. “She and Lewis?” he asked incredulously.

  “Your father forbade them to see each other,” Sarah said. “He genuinely loves her, Creighton, but your father would’ve ruined Mr. Reed before he’d let him marry Alberta.”

  Frank waited to see if she’d mention the baby, but she didn’t. Probably, she was respecting Alberta’s secret. He wouldn’t have been so honorable if it meant shocking Creighton into a revelation, but he’d let it go for now.

  “Reed could’ve built a bomb, and he had access to the building,” Frank pointed out.

  “But Lewis was injured in the blast,” Creighton said. “If he was the killer, surely he wouldn’t have put himself in danger.”

  “We think it went off by accident, long before the killer intended for it to,” Frank said.

  Creighton was shaking his head. “I can’t . . . This is too horrible to even contemplate. Don’t you suspect anyone outside of our family?” he added desperately.

  “How about Allen Snowberger?”

  Creighton eagerly grasped at this. “You’d asked me about him before. He and my father were arguing or something. But that wasn’t unusual. They never got along.”

  “Until the day your father died,” Frank reminded him. “Mr. Van Dyke was taking him a bottle of expensive French brandy.”

  “You told me that before, and it still doesn’t make any sense. Why would he do a thing like that?”

  “No one seems to know.”

  “Didn’t you ask Snowberger?”

  “He doesn’t know either, or so he says.”

  Creighton was still considering the situation when the parlor door opened and Lilly Van Dyke stormed in.

  “Creighton, how dare you show your face here!” She turned to Frank. “I hope you’re going to lock him up this time. None of us are safe with him running around loose!”

  “I don’t have any reason to arrest him, Mrs. Van Dyke,” Frank said as respectfully as he could when he really wanted to toss her back out the door.

  “What do you mean, no reason? He killed Gregory!”

  “Creighton!” Alberta cried from the doorway and rushed to her brother. He rose and caught her hands in his as she reached out to him. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

  “Safe? Why wouldn’t he be safe?” Lilly demanded shrilly. “No one wants him dead! He’s the golden goose for all those foreign revolutionaries!”

  Creighton and Alberta ignored her.

  “Is Katya all right?” Alberta asked.

  “Fine,” he said. “I saw her this morning, just before I came here. She’s worried, but I told her not to be.”

  “I can’t imagine why you’d say a thing like that,” Lilly snapped. She turned to Frank again. “If you aren’t going to arrest him, I’m going to have to call Commissioner Roosevelt and insist that he send someone who will.”

  “If that’s what you think is best, Mrs. Van Dyke, go right ahead,” Frank said, figuring she was bluffing. Teddy wasn’t going to take orders from someone polite society frowned on.

  Lilly Van Dyke wasn’t used to being dismissed, and she stared at him, open-mouthed for a moment before she remembered herself.

  Taking advantage of her temporary silence, Frank said, “I was just explaining the terms of your husband’s new will to Mr. Van Dyke.”

  This caught her attention. “I knew my husband was making a new will,” she said, contradicting what she’d told Frank a few days ago. “He said he needed to make some changes in light of recent events,” she added, giving Creighton a meaningful look.

  Creighton released Alberta’s hands and met Lilly’s gaze unflinchingly. “I think you’ll be surprised, Lilly.”

  “Surprised that he left you nothing?” she scoffed.

  “No, surprised that he left me everything.”

  Shocked and unbelieving, she turned to Frank for confirmation.

  “That’s right, Mrs. Van Dyke,” he said, watching her carefully for her reaction.

  She still didn’t comprehend. “You mean after he provided for me,” she said. “I’m his wife!”

  “Of course Father provided for you, Lilly,” Creighton said, not bothering to hide his satisfaction. “He left you an annual income of five hundred dollars a year.”

  She needed a moment for this to register. “I must have misunderstood you,” she said, trying to smile, trying to make her charm work.

  “You didn’t misunderstand,” Creighton said, taking a perverse pleasure in explaining. “He left you a pittance. If you’re very careful not to offend me, I may allow you to continue to live here, so you won’t have the expense of room and board someplace else. That will leave your entire income to use on clothes and whatever else you think you need.”

  They both knew the “pittance” wouldn’t pay for even one custom-made evening gown. Lilly stared at Creighton as if she’d never seen him before. “No!” she shrieked. “You’re lying! He was going to disinherit you! He knew you’d just give it to those foreigners! He wouldn’t have left you a penny!”

  She lunged at Creighton, hands clenched into claws, but Creighton caught her wrists before she could attack him. She screamed in frustration as she struggled to get her nails into his face.

  Creighton wrestled her down into the chair where he’d been sitting. By then she was sobbing hysterically.

  “Bertie?” Reed called from the doorway. “Are you all right?” His face was pale, and he held one hand to his wounded head, but his eyes were bright with concern.

  “Lewis,” Alberta said, hurrying to his side. “You shouldn’t be up. Come and sit down.” She took his arm and Sarah jumped up to help. The two women escorted him safely to the sofa and sat down on either side of him. “What’s wrong with Mrs. Van Dyke?” he was asking when Tad Van Dyke appeared in the doorway.

  “What’s going on in here? Lilly, what’s wrong?” He glanced around at everyone else in the room. “What have you done to her?” he demanded of Creighton.

  He didn’t wait for an answer, but went immediately to Lilly’s side.

  Frank rubbed a hand over his face. Now if Gregory Van Dyke would just return from the grave, this scene would be a perfect disaster.

  “Lilly, what is it?” Tad was asking her, his voice soft, his touch caressing as he knelt beside her chair and handed her his handkerchief. “There now, don’t cry. I’ll take care of everything.”

  That made her cry even harder as she buried her face in his handkerchief. Frank noted that Creighton was watching them closely and frowning. He’d be remembering what Frank had said about them being lovers and trying to see some evidence to prove him
wrong.

  “You can’t do much to take care of this, Tad,” Creighton informed him. “Lilly’s crying because Father left his entire estate to me.”

  Tad’s head jerked up, and he stared at his brother in patent disbelief. “He just made a new will,” he said. “He was going to cut you out completely!”

  “Who told you that?” Frank asked.

  Tad glared at him, probably thinking it was none of his business. “Father did!”

  “What did he say?”

  Tad rose to his feet. “He said no son who betrayed him would ever inherit a penny of his money!”

  “That’s funny,” Frank said, as if he really thought it was. “You’re the one who didn’t get a penny.”

  Tad wasn’t very good at concealing his emotions. His face registered shock, then guilt. He glanced down at Lilly, who was staring up at him, having forgotten her own misery for a moment. A red flush crawled up his neck and over his young face. “You’re lying!” he accused Frank. “I won’t believe it until I see the will myself—the new will!”

  “I’m sure Mr. Judd will be happy to explain everything to you, the way he did to me,” Frank said, naming the Van Dykes’ attorney.

  “Is it true?” Alberta asked Frank. “Did father really leave everything to Creighton?” She was holding Reed’s hand and patting it almost absently.

  “Yes,” Frank said, trying to judge her reaction. Reed seemed only mildly curious, but perhaps his head injury kept him from fully understanding what all this meant to him. Alberta understood every word, though.

  She didn’t seem very upset, though. She turned to Creighton with pity on her plain face. “Poor Creighton,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  Creighton smiled slightly at the irony. “According to Mr. Malloy, I’m supposed to take care of you, Bertie, and I will, so you won’t have to worry.”

  “We don’t need anything,” she said with a fond glance at Reed. “I’ll be content just to be Lewis’s wife.” Reed returned her glance with a look so tender, Frank had to turn away.

  At least he knew Reed and Alberta hadn’t killed her father for his money. There was still the matter of them being allowed to marry, though, which was an even better reason, considering Alberta’s condition.

  “Is that why you’re crying, Lilly?” Tad asked her. “Because you think Father didn’t leave me anything?”

  She glared at him. “Of course not! He didn’t leave me anything, either!”

  “That’s impossible,” Tad insisted. “You’re his wife!”

  “Father did provide a small income for her,” Creighton explained. “Apparently, she doesn’t feel it’s adequate, though.”

  “How small?” Tad asked, still not willing to accept this.

  “Five hundred a year,” Lilly said through gritted teeth, her hysteria giving way to anger now.

  “Send for Judd,” Tad said furiously. “Get him over here immediately with this so-called will. We’ll see once and for all who’s telling the truth!”

  “Mr. Malloy was just asking me why Father might have changed his will in such a way,” Creighton said. “Do any of you have any ideas?”

  Frank looked at each of them in turn. Alberta and Reed seemed puzzled but not really concerned. Lilly’s face turned red, and Tad turned stiffly and went straight for a cabinet on the far side of the room.

  “He was a wicked man,” Lilly said. “He took pleasure in making other people miserable. That’s why he did it.”

  “He wasn’t wicked,” Alberta contradicted sadly. “He did have set ideas on how things should be, though, and he didn’t tolerate anyone who wouldn’t conform to those ideas.”

  Tad had pulled a bottle of liquor out of the cabinet and was pouring himself a generous drink. “Tolerate?” he mocked. “Is that what you call it? I call it punish. He was ruthless if you didn’t meet his standards.”

  Shocked by his indictment of his father, everyone else in the room stared at him in stunned silence as he raised the glass to his lips. The instant the liquor hit his tongue, however, he flinched and spit it out and flung the glass on the floor, smashing the crystal into a hundred pieces and making everyone in the room jump.

  “Horse piss!” he announced in disgust. He grabbed the bottle by its neck and held it up. “This is a perfect example. He put the cheap stuff down here for his guests, but he only bought the best for himself. He’d hide it in his room so no one else could get it. Bastard!”

  “Tad, watch your language!” Creighton said. “There are ladies present.”

  Tad looked around the room as if to verify Creighton’s observation. Then he looked straight at Sarah, dismissing the others, and bowed slightly. “Pardon me, Mrs. Brandt. I forgot you were here.”

  Lilly gasped in outrage, and Alberta flushed, but Tad ignored them both. Still holding the bottle of “horse piss,” he stalked out of the room.

  Frank briefly considered going after him, but decided to let him stew a bit. Once he was convinced of the terms of his father’s will, he’d be too furious to mind his tongue at all.

  “Mr. Van Dyke,” Reed said to Creighton, breaking the awkward silence. His voice was weak but determined. “Since you’re now the head of the family, I’d like to ask permission to marry your sister.”

  Taken off guard, Creighton looked to Frank for guidance. He’d be wondering if Reed had killed his father and if he dared give permission for his sister to marry a murderer. Frank shrugged. He had no guidance to give.

  “If you don’t give permission,” Alberta said, “we’ll still be married as soon as possible. We’d like your blessing, but it isn’t necessary.”

  “Well, of course, I mean . . .” Creighton stammered, still seeking an ally in the room but finding none. “By all means. You have my blessing.”

  Lilly sighed in disgust, but no one paid her any mind. Alberta turned to Reed, and he clasped both her hands in his. For a moment, Frank thought she looked almost beautiful as she gazed at her lover’s bandaged face. Dear God, he hoped he didn’t have to arrest them for murder.

  “Now I suppose I should send for Mr. Judd and find out exactly what Father’s will does say,” Creighton said, sounding a little overwhelmed.

  “You must send for Katya, too,” Alberta said. “There’s no reason for you to live in a hovel any longer, and she should be here, with you.”

  “You aren’t bringing that trollop into this house!” Lilly exclaimed. “I forbid it!”

  Alberta glared at her. “This is Creighton’s house now, and you can’t forbid anything. You’d best mind your manners, Lilly, or you’ll find yourself out on the street.”

  Lilly made an incoherent sound in her throat, lunged to her feet, and hurried out of the room in a swish of skirts.

  Frank heard Sarah sigh beside him. “That went well,” she observed.

  BRIAN WAS ONLY TOO GLAD TO ACCOMPANY HIS FATHER for a walk after supper that night. Frank wished he could explain to the boy where they were going and why, but he was trapped in his silent world, and Frank had no way to break through.

  Yet.

  As they made their way through the crowded streets, Frank couldn’t help recalling the terrible scene at the Van Dyke house that afternoon. If he’d ever entertained the notion that money could buy happiness, the Van Dykes had disabused him of it once and for all. Now that he thought about it, the only person he knew who was truly happy was Brian, who had nothing at all.

  Frank glanced down to where the boy was fairly skipping along beside him, holding Frank’s hand tightly but thoroughly enjoying being with his father and seeing all the other people. His shoes looked perfectly normal, even though one of them had been specially made to fit his repaired foot. He looked just like any other three-year-old boy out for a walk with his father.

  But if Frank let go of his hand, and he wandered off, he wouldn’t even be able to tell anyone his name or where he lived.

  His heart heavy, Frank led Brian through the streets leading toward Tompkins Square, where the Isenberg fam
ily lived. He found the building at the address he’d been given, and Brian didn’t even hesitate to go inside with him. The boy trusted his father completely and would probably follow him into the jaws of hell if Frank wanted him to.

  The building was cleaner than most and in good repair. The family lived on the second floor, in the front apartment, which meant they paid a premium rent. Those on the upper floors paid progressively less, and those in the back, where little air circulated, paid even less. The second floor, above the street-level noise and dirt but still an easy climb up the stairs, was a prime location.

  The door to the flat was already open when they arrived, and a girl of about thirteen stood there. “I was watching for you,” she explained happily. “I’m Trude.”

  Frank returned her smile. “I’m Mr. Malloy. This is Brian.”

  A tall, well-built man appeared in the doorway behind her. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him while he made some strange motions with his hands.

  “My father said to introduce him,” she said. “His name is Bernard Isenberg.”

  Isenberg reached out his hand to Frank, who shook it. The hand was rough and ink-stained, reminding Frank that he worked as a printer. He reached down and ruffled Brian’s red-gold curls affectionately, making Brian grin.

  Isenberg motioned them inside and took their coats. Frank could see at a glance that Isenberg provided well for his family. The furniture was comfortable and of good quality, and everything was neat as a pin. Even his mother would approve.

  Trude presented them to her mother and her brother, Leo. Mrs. Isenberg was also deaf, and she made the same kind of motions with her hands that her husband had. She was a small, plump woman with a handsome face, and she wore a stylish dress. She made them welcome and silently invited them to sit down.

  Leo was about eight and all boy. His knees were skinned beneath his short pants, and while it was obvious his mother had cleaned him up for the occasion, his hair was already mussed from her careful combing and his shirttail was half out. He marched right up to where Brian was perched in Frank’s lap and began to sign to him.

  “I told you,” Trude said, signing so her parents would know what she was saying. “He doesn’t know how. He won’t understand.”