Frank wanted to, but Reed had all but admitted his guilt. He’d had motive and opportunity. Sure he’d tried to deny it, but most killers did. Some were so convincing, Frank had often wondered if they somehow managed to convince themselves they were innocent. But Reed wasn’t even very convincing.
“You admit you were in Snowberger’s apartment yesterday, and you had a good reason to want him dead. I’m going to have to arrest you, Reed.”
Frank had expected a roar of outrage, or at least some emotional plea for mercy. Instead, Reed simply closed his eyes for a moment and swayed slightly. Frank instinctively took a step toward him, to catch him if he fainted. But he steadied himself, and when he opened his eyes, he’d overcome whatever terrors had tried to claim him.
“Could I . . . would you allow me to write a note to Miss Van Dyke before you take me?” he asked.
“Go ahead,” Frank said, sympathetic in spite of himself. “I’ll have to call for a Black Maria to take you, so you’ll have plenty of time. I’m sending you to The Tombs,” he added, naming the city jail. “It’s a lot better than the precinct cells.”
Reed was beyond caring where he went. He started looking for a pen and paper while Frank went to summon the police wagon.
“LEWIS WOULDN’T HURT A FLY,” ALBERTA INSISTED FOR at least the tenth time in an hour. “How could anyone even think such a thing?”
Sarah was tired of watching her pace back and forth in the back parlor, but she had no comfort to offer. “Mr. Malloy is only trying to find the truth.”
“Is he?” Alberta asked skeptically. “He must feel a lot of pressure to solve my father’s murder, especially now that Mr. Snowberger is dead, too. Lewis is an easy victim. He has no friends to defend him, and no one but I will care if he hangs.”
Her voice broke on the last word. She put both hands over her face and began to weep piteously. Sarah hurried to her side and led her to the sofa. “There’s no use in getting upset,” she tried. “Mr. Malloy isn’t like that. He would never arrest an innocent man just to solve a case.”
“How can you be sure?” Alberta wailed, finding her handkerchief tucked in her sleeve. “The police do whatever they wish to people who have no money or influence.”
Sarah knew it was pointless to argue. Alberta was right, and no one could convince her Malloy wasn’t a typical police officer, at least not while she was so upset. “You should at least wait until you’ve had bad news before working yourself up into a state,” Sarah tried.
“I don’t need to hear any more,” Alberta told her bitterly. “I saw Mr. Malloy’s face when he was talking about Lewis. He knows Lewis and I would benefit from my father’s death because we’d be able to marry, and he knows Mr. Snowberger fired Lewis yesterday. Even I can see how bad it looks for him. But don’t they need proof to arrest someone for murder?”
“Proof or a confession,” Sarah said, trying to make Alberta feel more hopeful.
She had the opposite effect. “A confession!” she cried. “How long do you think it would take to beat a confession out of him? He isn’t a strong person, Sarah. He never stood up for himself with Father, and he’s weaker now that he’s injured. They’ll be able to get him to say anything!”
Sarah was almost relieved when someone knocked on the parlor door. “Come in,” she called.
A maid opened the door hesitantly. Probably, she’d heard Alberta crying and didn’t want to interrupt. “Miss Pet . . . The Russian lady, she’s awake,” she said, unable to remember Katya’s name.
“Is she in pain?” Sarah asked, rising to her feet.
“No, ma’am. You just said to tell you when she woke up.”
“Yes, thank you,” Sarah said. She turned back to Alberta. “I should check on her.”
“Go ahead,” she said wearily. “I’ll be fine.”
She looked far from fine, but Sarah had no further comfort to offer. She was very much afraid Lewis Reed had indeed killed two men for the woman he loved. If he had, no one would be able to comfort Alberta.
Sarah climbed the stairs and started down the hallway toward the guest room where Katya lay, but she heard the sound of raised voices in the room directly across from Katya’s door.
“That’s not what you said when you were naked in my arms!” a man’s voice shouted.
Without the slightest hesitation, Sarah swerved straight for the door and put her ear against it.
“Do you know what I did for you?” he was shouting again.
“Stop it, Tad! You’re acting like a child!”
“You didn’t think I was a child when you crawled into my bed!”
“How ungentlemanly of you to remind me,” she snapped. Sarah recognized Lilly’s voice now. “Don’t you understand? That was all very amusing, but nothing can ever come of it now.”
“Why not?” he demanded desperately. “You’re a widow. You can marry anybody you want!”
“But I don’t want to marry you!” she informed him. “Now run along like a good boy and stop bothering me. I’ve got a frightful headache.”
Sarah darted away from the door, figuring Tad would come storming out of the room any second, and she didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping. Her hand was on the knob of Katya’s door when she heard Lilly scream.
Forgetting discretion, she turned right around, darted across the hallway, and threw open the door. What she saw made her cry out in protest. Tad had thrown Lilly on the bed, and the two were struggling. Her dressing gown had been torn half off her body, and she was attempting to fight him off.
“Tad, stop it!” Sarah shouted.
He turned to her, his face contorted with rage as he held Lilly’s wrists above her head, but the instant he recognized her, the anger evaporated into shame. He released Lilly at once and pushed himself upright. “Sarah,” he said, as if to confirm the awful fact that she had seen what he’d been doing.
“What’s going on in here?” Sarah demanded, as if she didn’t know.
“He tried to attack me,” Lilly said quickly, struggling to pull the dressing gown closed again. “He came in here and started saying horrible things to me, and—”
“I heard what he said,” Sarah informed her. “And I heard what you said, too. Just be grateful no servants were in the hall.”
Tad was looking at Lilly now, an expression of loathing on his young face. “You’re nothing but a whore,” he spat. “When I think of what I did for you—”
“Get out!” Lilly cried. “I’m going to tell Creighton what you tried to do. I’ll tell everyone what you tried to do!”
Tad smiled bitterly. “And I’ll tell everyone what you did do, with me and with Snowberger and God knows how many others.”
She started calling him names, but he paid her no attention. He strode away from the bed, past Sarah and out into the hall. A moment later she heard the door to his bedroom slam shut.
“What is the shouting?”
Sarah looked over to find Katya standing in her doorway, looking frightened. “It’s nothing,” Sarah assured her hastily, going out into the hall to help her back to bed. “You shouldn’t be up.”
They both jumped as Lilly slammed her door shut, too.
“What is wrong?” Katya asked. “Where is Petya?”
Sarah needed a moment to remember that was Creighton. He’d given up his pacing, and she hadn’t seen him in a while. “I’ll send someone for him,” she promised. He couldn’t have been nearby or all the shouting and screaming would have brought him running.
Sarah was helping Katya back into bed and inquiring about how she felt when Alberta came to the open doorway. “Who’s slamming all those doors?” she asked. “I could hear it all the way downstairs.”
“Tad and Lilly had a disagreement,” Sarah said in a masterly piece of understatement. “Do you know where Creighton is? Katya would like to see him.”
“He said something about needing some fresh air,” Alberta said. “He may have gone up on the roof.”
“The roof?” Sarah ec
hoed in surprise. Tenement dwellers regularly used their roofs for sleeping in hot weather and socializing in any weather, but she wouldn’t have expected the Van Dykes to do so.
“Don’t you remember?” Alberta asked. “Mother had the garden put in up there when the house was built.”
“Oh, yes,” Sarah recalled. “We used to play up there.” Potted trees had provided shade and flower boxes overflowed with color. A gazebo had made a wonderful playhouse or a place for grown-ups to visit. She also recalled the “secret” staircase that led from this floor, past the servants’ quarters on the fourth floor, and up to that special place.
“I’ll see if he’s there,” Alberta offered and disappeared, closing the door behind her.
When Sarah looked back at Katya, the young woman was caressing her swollen stomach. “He does not move,” she said, terror a darkness in her voice.
“They never move when you want them to,” Sarah said with forced cheerfulness. “Just wait until tonight when you’re trying to sleep.”
“Two days, he does not move.” She closed her eyes, squeezing out a single tear.
Sarah felt the pain in her own heart. She couldn’t imagine what Katya must be feeling. Was it cruel to offer her hope or not to offer it? The child might still be alive, of course, but if he wasn’t . . .
Where was Creighton? Silently, Sarah stepped to the door, opened it, and looked out. She saw Alberta and Creighton emerging from the “secret” staircase. It wasn’t really secret, of course, just inconspicuous, located behind an ordinary-looking door next to Tad’s room that might have been a linen closet.
Seeing her, Creighton hurried toward her. “How is she?” he asked, his own fear naked in his voice.
“She’s not in any discomfort,” Sarah said quite truthfully. “She just wants to see you.”
Creighton went in. He hesitated when he saw her lying so still, eyes closed and her hands still lying protectively on her belly. But then she opened her eyes, and he went to her instantly.
Sarah turned away, not wanting to intrude on their private moment, but Katya’s voice stopped her. “Tell him,” she said.
Sarah turned back. “Tell him what?”
“The baby. Tell him.”
“What?” Creighton asked in alarm. “What is it?”
Sarah drew a deep breath. “Katya hasn’t felt the baby move for two days. She’s afraid . . . something is wrong.”
“Is that normal?” he asked. “Tell her it’s normal and nothing to be worried about.”
“It’s really too soon to know,” she said quite truthfully. “The baby could be fine.”
Creighton took Katya’s hand and raised it to his lips. “Don’t worry,” he said. “Everything will be all right. We’ll get married, and we’ll have lots of babies. You’ll never want for anything again.”
Pain flickered across Katya’s face, but Sarah knew it wasn’t physical. She’d never wanted to be married. She’d never wanted material things. How could he have forgotten that so quickly? This time Sarah did manage to escape, and she really did feel the need to get away. She didn’t want to see another person seeking comfort. Too many people in this house needed too much. Remembering the secret staircase and the garden above, Sarah stole quietly down the hall.
The stairway wasn’t as dark or frightening as she’d recalled. In fact, it wasn’t particularly narrow or steep, either. Two flights up, the door opened onto the roof. The air up here was brisk, but warmer than it had been the past few days. The sun shone brightly, taking away the chill. Sarah wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she’d brought her cape, but not wanting to go back for it. Looking out over the surrounding rooftops, she thought of the tenements that were so physically nearby and yet a world away.
Here on Fifth Avenue, a roof could be a garden hideaway. Others, she noticed, had also transformed their rooftops with plants and trees. In the neighborhood where Katya had lived with Creighton, the rooftops of the buildings, built so close together they actually touched, formed an alternate system of roads. When the streets were clogged with people and vehicles, you could climb up to a rooftop and make your way for an entire block if you didn’t mind stepping over the occasional low wall.
“What are you doing up here?”
Startled, Sarah turned to find Tad in the doorway. She sighed. So much for her escape. “I’m enjoying the view,” she said.
He wasn’t amused. “How did you know about this place?”
“I used to play up here with Alberta when we were children.”
He seemed to relax slightly, although he was still wary. “About what happened with Lilly down there . . .”
Sarah waited, curious as to how he would explain himself.
Finally, he said, “She was the one who seduced me in the beginning.”
From what she’d heard, Sarah thought this was likely. “She must’ve noticed you found her attractive.”
“I was in love with her from the minute she came here,” he confessed, his disgust evident. “She didn’t love my father. He’d forced her to marry him, to settle a debt. She said I was the only thing that made her life worth living.”
Sarah winced at the cruelty of the lie. “At least you found out the truth about her before anything worse happened,” she offered, thinking how horrible it would have been if he’d actually married his stepmother.
“Something worse already happened,” he said, his young face looking terribly old.
Before she could ask what he meant, he turned and fled back down the stairs.
Sarah rubbed the bridge of her nose to ward off a headache. Something about the Van Dyke household seemed to bring them on. She’d just taken a seat in the gazebo when she heard someone calling her name.
“Sarah, come quick!” Creighton cried desperately as he raced up the stairs. “Katya’s bleeding!”
SOMETIMES SOLVING A CASE WAS WORSE THAN NOT SOLVING it, Frank had decided. From what he knew about the two dead men, the world was probably a better place without them. Lewis Reed, on the other hand, would most likely have been a good husband and father, a faithful employee and a good provider if he’d fallen in love with an ordinary woman instead of Alberta Van Dyke.
As much as he hated having to tell a murder victim’s family about the death, he hated telling Alberta her lover was a killer even more. Reed had tried so hard to clear the way for them, and he’d managed only to ruin both their lives.
The maid admitted him, and he couldn’t help noticing she looked very grave. In fact, the house itself seemed unusually still. “Is Miss Van Dyke at home?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, she’s upstairs in the parlor with the rest of the family. Would you like me to show you up?”
“Is Mrs. Brandt still here?”
“Yes, sir, she is.”
Good, Frank thought. Alberta would probably need her care. “Yes, please take me up.”
The maid announced him and then held the parlor door. The Van Dyke sons didn’t seemed particularly interested that he’d arrived. Creighton was sitting in a chair, staring at nothing, his expression grim. Tad sat on the far side of the room, away from the others, a drink in his hand, as usual. Alberta looked up at him with terror-filled eyes, though. Sarah looked up, too, but she was simply resigned.
“Where’s Lewis?” Alberta asked in a voice as fragile as glass.
Frank had to clear his throat. “He’s at the city jail.”
She cried out in anguish, and Sarah rushed to her side. “I told you!” she said to Sarah, tears glistening in her eyes. “It won’t matter that he’s innocent! They’ll hang him just because he isn’t important and won’t speak up for himself.”
Frank could have reminded her that murderers didn’t hang anymore, now that they had the new electric chair, but that wouldn’t be much comfort. “He wrote you a letter and asked me to deliver it,” he said, reaching into his coat pocket to pull it out.
Alberta snatched it from his fingers. “It’s been opened!” she exclaimed in outrage.
She turned away in disgust, unfolded the letter, and began to read.
Frank glanced at Sarah, but she wouldn’t meet his eye. Creighton Van Dyke had finally roused himself, though. He got up and came to where Frank still stood by the door.
“What is this all about?” he asked with a puzzled frown. “Why have you arrested Lewis Reed?”
“Because he killed your father and Allen Snowberger,” Frank explained.
“That’s insane,” Creighton exclaimed at the same time his sister cried, “No, he didn’t! If you read this letter, you must know that! He swears he’s innocent!”
“Why would he have killed my father?” Creighton asked astonished. “Or Allen, either? What reason could he possibly have had?”
Frank looked at Alberta. “Because of your sister.”
Alberta glared at him with pure loathing, but Creighton distracted her. “That’s ridiculous. Lewis isn’t the kind of man who’d commit murder for some romantic notion.”
“Romantic notion!” Alberta cried in outrage. “You’re the one who turned his back on everything you’ve ever known just to be with Katya!”
“That’s different,” Creighton argued, but his sister was having none of it.
“It’s exactly the same! Lewis and I love each other just as much as you love Katya, but I’m not a man like you, Creighton. I can’t just run away and do whatever I want. Father said he’d ruin Lewis if we eloped, and he’d never be able to find a job. How would we live? And then I found out I was going to have a baby.”
Creighton gasped. “A baby? Oh, Bertie . . .” Now everything was clear to him. He turned to Frank. “So Lewis did kill Father!”
“No, he didn’t!” Alberta insisted furiously. “Why won’t anyone listen to me?”
Creighton wasn’t listening to her. He was looking at Frank. “But why did he kill Allen?”
“Because Snowberger fired him yesterday,” Frank explained. “Told him he’d be arrested for trespassing if he tried to come back to work.”
Murder on Marble Row Page 25
