by Rhys Bowen
“We have no servant to send over for me. I came to the back door because I didn’t want to encounter family members before we were formally introduced,” I replied. “I called from the doorway, but nobody came. So I thought I’d try to locate the larder.”
“And help yourself to our food? What if you had taken a chicken and I was then one short?”
“I would never have taken anything without permission, and I don’t take kindly to your insinuations,” I said hotly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get back to my husband. I’m concerned about him and about the fever he caught because there was nobody around to let us in when we arrived, even though we were expected.”
With that I stalked out, in high dudgeon. The woman had practically accused me of coming here to steal things, hadn’t she? I was almost tempted to throw her chicken back at her and tell her we’d do without, but my concern for Daniel outweighed my pride.
I was just turning onto the path to the guest cottage when I heard a voice calling, “Hey miss. Over here.” I could make out the figure of a man peering in through the bars of the gate.
I went up to him. “Oh, dear, have they locked the gates again? We were shut out the other day. Let me see if I can find the way to let you in.”
“I don’t want to come in,” he said. “Not right now in any case. I just wanted to make sure—this is the house of Brian Hannan, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” I said.
“And Mr. Hannan is in residence?”
“I gather he hasn’t arrived yet,” I said.
“That’s funny. Are you sure?”
“I don’t know, actually. We’re not staying at the big house.”
“I’d swear I saw him at the station in New York. Very well, then. I’ll be back. Thank you.” He let go of the bars of the gate he had been holding.
“You’re not another family member, are you? Because a lot of them have already arrived.”
“Oh, no, nothing like that. Far from it.” He was starting to move away. “I’d better go then.”
“Would you like me to tell the family that you called, Mr.—?” I shouted after him.
“No, thank you. Let’s keep it a surprise, shall we?”
With that he melted away into the darkness, leaving me to pick my way home to the cottage.
Ten
I did not sleep well that night. Daniel tossed and turned with a hacking cough. Having just become accustomed to the advantages of sleeping in the same bed as my husband, I was now finding out the disadvantages. I got up to fetch him water and make him hot tea and in the end I chose to curl up on the sofa with a rug over me. I had just drifted off to sleep as the birds were twittering with the dawn when there was a thunderous knocking at the front door.
I got up, reached blindly for my robe, and went to the front door, first pausing to make sure the robe was tied decently. Really this nightly interruption was becoming less of a joke each time it happened. I opened the door to see a policeman standing there.
“Good morning, ma’am.” He touched his helmet to me. “I am sorry to bother you so early, but I’m afraid I have to ask you to get dressed and come over to the big house as soon as possible. My chief would like to talk to you.”
“About what? Is it my husband you’re wanting?” I pulled my robe closer around me, conscious of his interested stare.
“No, both of you, and I couldn’t tell you what about. Just that it’s urgent and you are requested to come straightaway.”
“Very well. We’ll come as soon as we’re dressed,” I said shortly.
I went upstairs to rouse Daniel. He looked decidedly the worse for wear—hollow eyed and still flushed with fever.
“What the devil do they want now?” he growled. “Are we not to get a minute’s peace in this place? I rather wish I had not accepted the invitation. A stay on Coney Island next to the new Luna Park would have been quieter than this.”
“Maybe you should stay in bed. The early morning air will not help your condition. I can go in your stead and give your excuses.”
“No, that wouldn’t do at all,” he said. “I’ll be all right. I just hope for their sakes that the matter warrants dragging us out of bed like this.”
He sat on the bed, breathing heavily, as he dressed. His breathing sounded ragged. I went off to dress myself, noting gratefully that I had succeeded in eliminating the saltwater stains from the skirt of my dress. As I put up my hair I tried to think what a policeman could want with us at this hour. Surely Mrs. McCreedy had not reported me for trying to steal a chicken? And if she had, the alderman would certainly have arrived by now and would have vouched for us. A chilling thought crossed my mind—those little boys, mischievous and lacking control—surely something hadn’t happened to them?
I followed Daniel down the stairs and out across the dewy lawn. I took his arm, feeling that he might need me to steady him as much as I needed his support. Toadstools had appeared overnight in the damp grass and there was a decidedly autumnal chill in the air. Seagulls wheeled overhead mewing. The policeman who had summoned us was standing at the front door of the castle and ushered us inside, across that cavernous main foyer, down a gloomy hallway until he paused outside a door at the far end. He knocked and pushed the door open for us to go in. We stepped into one of the lavishly formal drawing rooms on the north side of the house. It was decidedly chilly at this early hour with no fire lit in the grate.
I started with surprise as we entered because the room was full of people. The entire Hannan family appeared to be assembled in various stages of undress. Pajamas were visible under silk dressing gowns. Irene was in a feather-trimmed negligee, but her hair fell over her shoulders and clearly had not been brushed. They were posed, unmoving, almost like a tableau in the popular party games—their unkempt appearance and motley attire in sharp contrast to the fine furnishings and decorations of the room.
My first impression was of this incongruity and I tried to imagine what had brought them all so hurriedly from their beds. They looked at us as we entered, hollow eyed and almost as if they were in a trance. A thought passed through my head that these were people who were in shock. Then of course I remembered the incident of the day before and realized that the little boys were not part of this gathering. Please God let it not have anything to do with those boys, I found myself praying.
I glanced around the group, recognizing Irene and Archie Van Horn, Terrence, Eliza, Mr. Joseph Hannan as well as a few people I hadn’t seen before. One was a plump, motherly looking older woman; one a skinny youth. He was perched on the arm of her chair, a study in contrasts, making the rhyme about Jack Spratt and his wife spring into my mind. The third person was a thinner, younger, somehow softer-looking version of Joseph, presumably the third Hannan brother, the priest. And the only one standing was a portly florid man in a policeman’s uniform with enough braid on it to indicate he was someone important.
“Ah, here they are now,” he said as we came in. “Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan, isn’t it? Please take a seat. I am Chief Prescott of the Newport Police.” There were two upright chairs near the door and we sat. It felt as if we had been called to an inquisition and tried to imagine what we were to be accused of.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. I am told you are supposedly here as guests of Alderman Hannan.”
“Supposedly?” I began, but Daniel put a hand on my arm to restrain me.
“May we ask what this is about?” Daniel demanded. “Exactly why have we been dragged from our beds at this ungodly hour on what is supposed to be our honeymoon? If this is some kind of family gathering then obviously we do not belong here.”
“Precisely,” Mr. Joseph Hannan said, pointing a finger in our direction. “Exactly what I told you, Chief Prescott. What are they doing here at the same time as us? That was the first thought that went through my mind—and the other family members as well.”
“We are here because Alderman Hannan invited us,” Daniel said.
“You’re a good friend of the
alderman, are you, sir?” the policeman asked.
“No, I don’t know him socially. We have crossed paths professionally.”
“See, what did I tell you?” Joseph Hannan began again. “None of us had any idea they’d be here. None of us has ever heard mention of them before.”
“You say you don’t know the alderman socially, and yet he invites you to his house at the same time as his family. Didn’t that strike you as odd, sir?” The police chief took a step toward us in a menacing way, as if he was expecting us to break down and confess all. I studied his face. It must have been handsome once, but the jawline was starting to sag and those red cheeks betrayed too much liking for alcohol. And the way he was looking at us was making a flush of anger rise to my own cheeks.
I could keep quiet no longer. “Look, if you believe we are gate-crashers here, and obviously that is what you are insinuating, why don’t you ask the alderman himself? I’m sure he must have arrived by now.”
I saw a quick glance pass between several people seated in the room.
“May I ask when you last saw the alderman, sir?” the police chief asked.
Daniel frowned. “A couple of weeks ago.”
“You haven’t seen him since?”
“I just told you,” Daniel snapped, then drew out his handkerchief as the words turned into a bout of coughing. Prescott waited until he had finished.
“I must apologize,” Daniel muttered. “I seem to have caught a chill after being drenched in that storm the other night.”
“You say you cross paths professionally,” the policeman said. “What kind of profession would that be, sir?”
“I’m a policeman, like yourself,” Daniel said. “If you want to know the details, the alderman and I were chatting and when he learned about my ruined honeymoon, and that he was partly to blame, he made the kind offer of the use of his guest cottage, and suggested this date.”
“He was partly to blame? What do you mean?”
“I’m talking about the tunnel collapse last month. The new subway system that Hannan Construction is building in the city. I’m sure you must have read about it. If not, Joseph Hannan can tell you. He runs the business these days, isn’t that right, Mr. Hannan?” He looked at Joseph.
“There was a cave-in,” Joseph said coldly. “Bound to happen from time to time, given the unstable nature of the soil under Manhattan and the many streams that crisscross it.”
“It was a bad cave-in and several men were killed, weren’t they?” Daniel continued. “And I was called back from my honeymoon to see if there was any evidence of foul play involved.”
“Foul play?” Joseph demanded, half rising to his feet. “What are you getting at?”
“An attempt to sabotage your construction, Mr. Hannan. That’s what I’m getting at.” He and Joseph stared at each other for a long moment then Joseph sat down again.
“You’re a detective of some sort, are you then?” Chief Prescott asked. The tone was hostile, almost insulting.
“Captain Sullivan, New York Police,” Daniel said. “Senior detective at Mulberry Street.”
“I see, sir.” I noticed a slight shift in attitude. “Could you tell me why Mr. Hannan specifically invited you here at the same time as his family?”
“He mentioned this date and we accepted.”
“So he never said why he wanted you here at this particular moment? Didn’t that strike you as a trifle odd?”
“I had no idea he was planning to hold a family reunion at the same time. It came as a surprise to me, too,” Daniel said. “We came here expecting the place to ourselves and a quiet time.” I stared down at the carpet, not wanting to catch Daniel’s eye. But he went on calmly enough, “Where is the alderman, anyway? Why this meeting without him?”
“The alderman’s body was discovered lying half submerged in water on the rocks below the cliff this morning,” the police chief said evenly.
Daniel was instantly on his feet. “Who found the body?”
“Young Samuel did,” the plump woman said. “Came back to me in a terrible state.”
Daniel focused his gaze on the skinny youth. “And you are?”
“Sam,” the boy said. “Sam McCloskey, sir.”
“A member of Brian Hannan’s family?”
“He’s my grandson,” the large lady said. “I’m Mary Flannery, and Joe, Pat, and Brian are my brothers—were my brothers,” she corrected and crossed herself. “Samuel is the oldest of my daughter’s children. She married herself a no-good drunkard and she’s trying to raise eight children more or less single-handed so Brian had taken young Sam under his wing. Very fond of him, he was. And the other way around too. The boy has been quite beside himself all morning.”
Indeed young Sam was ashen faced and did look as if he was in shock. But then they all did. Irene’s eyes were red and swollen as if she had been crying. Now she just sat perfectly still, not moving a muscle and staring blankly at the unlit fireplace.
“You found the body at what time?” Daniel asked, moving toward the youth.
“I don’t know the exact time, sir.” Sam muttered. “I think I heard the grandfather clock chime six before I went out.”
“What were you doing out at that hour?” Daniel asked.
“Excuse me, Captain Sullivan,” Chief Prescott cut in, “but may I remind you that we are not in New York City and this is not your case. If anyone asks questions it will be me. Is that clear?”
“Certainly,” Daniel said, going back to his chair. “I’m sorry. Force of habit. I’ll let you get on with it then.”
“What were you doing out alone at that hour, son?” the chief asked.
“Going fishing,” the boy said. “My grandpa taught me how to fish. He said early morning was the best time.”
“My late husband, he means,” Mary Flannery said. “He taught the boy to fish off the docks in the city. We lived near the East River.”
“So you were going fishing,” the chief went on. “Go on.”
“I went and got a rod and line from the shed and then I decided to go down to the rocks and get some mussels for bait. I got to the edge of the cliff and I saw something on the rocks. To start with I thought a seal or a whale was lying in a tide pool. It wasn’t quite light, you see. I was really excited. I’d never seen a seal or a whale close up like that before.” He looked around for confirmation.
“Go on, boy,” Chief Prescott said.
“And then I saw the hand floating in the water and it was a human hand. So I ran along the cliff until there’s the place where we can climb down and—well, I just thought it was a body fallen off a boat or something. I never expected…” He broke off as his voice choked. “Then a wave came in and lifted the head and I saw that it was Uncle Brian.”
“What did you do then?”
“Tried to help him, of course. In case he was still alive. I made my way out to him through the waves. But then I saw his eyes, just staring and his face all beaten up and I knew he was dead.”
He put his hand up to his mouth and tried to swallow back the sob.
“Pull yourself together, boy,” Joseph said. “You’re almost a man. Men don’t cry.”
“Hush up, Jo. The boy’s had a horrible shock. You know how fond he was of Brian,” Father Patrick said gently. “It’s all right, boy. It’s good to grieve for those we loved.” I looked at him—a softer, kinder face than Joseph’s but also one that had known suffering, I decided.
“We’ve all had a shock,” Joseph said. “A terrible shock.”
“And we’ve all lost someone we loved,” Irene said. “But then some of us more than others. He was my father, you know.”
“We’re not debating who has the greatest claim to love him,” Joseph said shortly.
“Please, please.” Chief Prescott held up his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re just trying to get at the facts here. Go on, boy. What did you do after you saw it was Brian Hannan and he was dead?”
“I came running straight bac
k to the house and I woke my grandma.”
“And I got dressed and went to see for myself, because the boy has been known to pull a prank or two before now,” Mary Flannery said, patting the boy on his knee for reassurance. “And there he was, the poor man, lying in the surf, just like the boy said. I came straight back to the house and went to wake my brothers.”
“Has a coroner or a physician been summoned?” Daniel asked.
“He has,” Prescott replied. “Not that there’s anything we can do for the poor fellow.”
“So we don’t yet know how long he’d been lying there,” Daniel said.
“I presume he must have gone for an early morning walk and miscalculated the cliff edge,” Prescott said, dismissing Daniel by turning away from him.
“But he never arrived last night,” Archie pointed out. “We waited dinner for him and he never showed up. So we all thought he’d been detained on a business or political matter and that he’d come this morning. We did think it odd that he didn’t telephone. He had a telephone put in the house, you know. He liked to stay abreast of matters.”
“So it’s possible,” Chief Prescott said, this time turning to look back at Daniel, “that he did arrive last night, and fell off the cliffs then, before he could make his presence known.”
“That hardly seems likely, does it?” Joseph interrupted before Daniel could comment. “My brother arrives at his own house, doesn’t come in to meet anyone or to let his servants know he is here. Instead slinks off to the cliff edge and falls over.”
“He wouldn’t have done that,” Irene’s voice was full of emotion. “You know how careful he was. You know what he thought about that cliff, after what we’d all gone through.”
“You mean the little girl?” Prescott said.
“Of course that’s what I mean. My daughter. My precious little daughter.” Irene’s voice cracked.
“Now don’t distress yourself, my dear,” Archie said. He frowned a warning at the police chief. “We don’t mention her anymore.”
