Hush Now, Don’t You Cry

by Rhys Bowen

  “Yes?” he demanded. Then he squinted, frowning at me. “I know you, don’t I?” he said. “Weren’t you the woman I spoke to at the gate? Did they send you down with more bribes to keep me quiet?”

  For once words failed me. I was suddenly all too aware that I might be facing Alderman Hannan’s killer and I was alone with him on a dark third floor landing that smelled of boiled cabbage and bad drains.

  “I came because you might be the one who can help us,” I said. “You must have heard that Alderman Hannan was killed.”

  “I did hear something about it,” he said. “Fell off a cliff, didn’t he? Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

  What on earth do I say next? “Then you must realize that the Newport police are looking for you as a possible witness,” I said.

  “Why would they think that?”

  “Because you came to the gates of the house at about the same time that Alderman Hannan arrived,” I said. “It is estimated that he was killed soon after that. So we wondered…”

  “If I came up there to kill him?” he demanded. He took a step toward me and I realized that a steep flight of steps was right behind me. One good shove and I’d go flying down it.

  “We wondered if you saw anyone on your way to or from the house,” I said. Even to me it sounded weak. Suddenly I decided to stop beating around the bush. I was in a tenement building, for the love of Mike. If I screamed, doors would open on all sides. “Why did you go there?” I asked. “You must realize that it looks bad for you.”

  “And who is going to identify me?” he demanded. “Who is going to say I was there, apart from you?”

  “It won’t do any good to threaten me,” I said, sticking out my chin more bravely than I felt. “I’ve already talked with the police about you, and Mr. Hannan’s secretary gave me your address. They all know I was on my way to speak with you.”

  I saw the air go out of him like a deflated balloon. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ve thought about that. When I heard he had died, I knew it would look bad for me. I just hoped that nobody would be able to identify me.” He sighed. “I should never have gone up there. I’ve always been too impulsive.” He glanced back into the room. “Do you want to come in? I’ve no doubt that there are half a dozen ears glued to their doors at this moment, listening to what we have to say.”

  I hesitated. “Will you walk into my parlor,” said the spider to the fly? And yet my instinct was to trust him. The matter was decided by a small blond head poking out of the door and saying, “Uncle Josh. Whatcha doing?”

  He wasn’t likely to kill me in front of children. “Thank you,” I said and accepted his invitation. The room was well furnished by tenement standards, and trust me, I have seen enough of the other kind. A table, chairs, even an armchair by the stove, curtains at the window, a print from a magazine on the wall. This was a well-cared-for home.

  “You live here too, do you?” I asked.

  “I moved in to take care of Trudi and the kids,” he said. “This is no city for a woman alone.” He pulled out a chair for me and I sat. I was conscious of three small faces watching me from a backroom doorway.

  “I’d offer you coffee, but I’m not sure where she keeps her things,” he said. “She’s out, working in one of the garment shops. Seeing as how I don’t have a job at the moment, someone had to bring in money.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Not nearly as sorry as I am,” he said. “My brother and I were both working on the subway, you know. Then it caved in, my brother was killed, and I was laid off. Work stopped until the investigation was completed. No money to tide us over, just good-bye and see you later.” He pulled up another chair and leaned closer to me. “I was planning to kill him, you know,” he said in a low whisper. “Because it was shoddy materials that caused that cave-in. I’ve worked on enough construction sites. I know about these things. I took a look at that collapsed tunnel. I could tell they had skimped on the rebar and poured the walls too thin. I tried to get people to listen to me, but I was warned to back off—roughed up, in fact by Hannan’s bully boys. I got the feeling that the Hannan brothers were not going to be held responsible for anything, because of who they were. So I followed him to Newport. I thought it would be easier to get him alone out there. Then he had a vehicle waiting and he took off and I lost him. And when I found the house, the gates were locked. I suppose that brought me back to my senses. I couldn’t even find a way into the damned house.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “I turned around and went home. Pathetic, isn’t it? I feel like such a fool.”

  “And you didn’t see anyone else anywhere near the house?” I asked.

  “It was dark,” he snapped. “And all I wanted to do was to get out of there and back to New York. It was foolish on my part to think I could do anything to harm people like the Hannans. But I tell you one thing. I’m glad he’s dead. I hope his family is suffering the way Trudi and the little ones are. The way I am.” He looked directly at me and I saw tears in his eyes. “We were twins you know. There’s a special bond between twins. I feel as if part of myself is missing now.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “My husband was part of a police task force looking into the tunnel collapse. If they can prove negligence or even corruption, then I’m sure you’ll get compensation.”

  “It won’t bring him back, will it?” he said.

  “No. It won’t bring him back.” I stood up. “Mr. Hermann, I’ll probably have to give your name to the police and they’ll come and question you, but I’ll delay as long as I can. Maybe they’ll have found the real culprit by then.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “Because if they throw me in jail, then who will look after these little ones?” And he pointed toward the towheads in the doorway.

  So I had established one thing—we could cross Joshua Hermann off the list of suspects, and since he was the only outsider who had been observed, again it was narrowed down to family. I couldn’t think of anyone else I could question, I made my way back to the station. With any luck I’d be back in Newport in time for tea.

  As the train huffed and puffed its way along the coast I thought again about the family. Brian Hannan had had a falling out with his brother Joseph. Presumably Joseph was to blame for the substandard materials that caused the subway collapse that Daniel was investigating—and that was why he was so anxious to get Daniel out of the cottage. And that might also have been just one incident that led Brian Hannan to discover his brother had been cheating the company, But would that have made Joseph kill his brother? They were partners, after all. Brian couldn’t just throw his brother out. So my thoughts moved on to Terrence and then to Sam and I remembered something that Eliza had said. When Colleen fell from the cliff Sam had come running up late, looking guilty. If only Daniel was well enough, I’d leave the questioning of Sam to him. Men are so much better at extracting confessions from young boys.

  My thoughts then turned to Kathleen. What would happen to her now that her protector had gone? Surely the rest of the family members would want her back in the asylum. How could I ever persuade them to leave her where she was in Mrs. McCreedy’s care, or better still, to let someone like Dr. Birnbaum see if he could help her.

  It was only when I was on the train that I realized I had failed to do what I had claimed as my reason for going to New York—find a way to transport Daniel back home. That would look suspicious. So when the train came into Newport, I made first for the harbor and inquired about passenger ships that sailed to New York. I found there was a regular service up and down the coast and I could book a cabin with ease. My conscience thus cleared, I threw caution to the winds and took a cab to Connemara.

  There were still a bevy of reporters milling around the gate. I had to push my way past them. Policemen were still guarding the gate, but they recognized me and let me in. I noticed more police outside the main house. Had something else happened? My heart beat a little faster as I walked up to the front door of o
ur cottage. What if Daniel had taken a turn for the worse and I wasn’t there? I started walking faster and had almost broken into a run by the time I pushed the front door open. It was dark in the hallway and it took time for my eyes to accustom myself to the light and to see the figure standing at the bottom of the stairs. He spun to face me and I saw that it was Sam.

  Thirty-four

  “What are you doing here?” I blurted out.

  His eyes darted nervously. “She said I could,” he said.

  “She?”

  “The old lady. I smelled the baking and she said I could come back when it was out of the oven.” He glanced back into the kitchen. “When I get scared I like to eat.”

  “What are you scared about?” I tried to sound casual.

  “You know. All the things that have been happening. Uncle Brian and now this. I want to go back to New York but the policeman says we have to stay.”

  Mrs. Sullivan’s head poked around the kitchen door. “Oh, Molly, you’re back. Just in time for tea. And this young man too. I can see he needs fattening up and I’ve just been baking all of Daniel’s favorites—my soda bread and buns and Barmbrack.”

  “Daniel is all right, isn’t he?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes. Making splendid progress now he’s had a chance to eat some proper food,” she said. “He was talking of coming downstairs and sitting outside for a while. I gather the family is taking tea on the lawn. Well, poor things, I expect they are really shaken up by the latest developments.”

  “What’s happened?” I asked.

  She leaned closer to me. “It turns out that the owner of the place, the one who was murdered, was keeping his insane granddaughter up in that tower, and all this time the rest of the family thought she was safely in an asylum.”

  I was finding it hard to breathe. “How did they find out?” I asked.

  “The man’s lawyer came to read the will and as I understand it, there was a large sum of money left for the care of this granddaughter, provided she was looked after properly in a family home. I don’t know the rest of the details but that’s what Martha told me.”

  “It’s Kathleen,” Sam blurted out. “You know, the one who pushed her sister over the cliff. Nobody knew where she was. Uncle Jo sent a telegram to the asylum where they thought she was and they sent a telegram back saying she had been taken away years ago.”

  “So how did they find her?” I could hardly make the words come out.

  “They found Mrs. McCreedy,” he said. “One of the maids found her early this morning when she was cleaning. She was lying on the floor dead. She’d fallen from a trapdoor and broken her neck. So Terrence and Uncle Jo got a ladder and they went up and do you know what they found? Kathleen had been living up there all this time and we never knew. So of course then they reckoned that she’d pushed Mrs. McCreedy just like she did her sister.”

  “And where is Kathleen now?” It was all I could do to remain calm and not go rushing over to her.

  “She’s still up there and there are policemen guarding her until they can come and take her away,” he said. He had his arms wrapped around himself, shivering as if he was cold.

  “And your friends are with her,” Daniel’s mother said. “The two women who were your bridesmaids. Apparently she can only communicate in a strange language and they are experts in such things.”

  I gave a huge sigh of relief. Sid and Gus were with her. I was half-amused, half-impressed that they had conned their way to Kathleen, claiming to be experts. They’d make sure nothing terrible happened to her for the time being—until I could prove that she didn’t kill Mrs. McCreedy. I wanted to go to them right now but my husband came first. “I must go and see Daniel,” I said.

  Mrs. Sullivan grabbed my arm. “He doesn’t know anything about this and he shouldn’t be told. No sense in upsetting him when he’s still so weak.”

  I nodded agreement.

  “And young Sam here better get started on his tea,” she added. “Tell Daniel I’ll be bringing a tray up to him in a few minutes.”

  Sam brightened up instantly at the word tea. He was through the door of the kitchen and had grabbed a bun before I started up the stairs. Daniel was sitting propped up by pillows and his face lit up as I came in, making me feel a flush of warmth and gratitude.

  “There you are,” he said. “I wondered where you had got to.”

  “I was scouting out ways to have you transported back to New York safely,” I said. “You’re not up to traveling by train yet.”

  “And what did you find?” He took my hand in his as I sat beside him.

  “There is a regular steamship service. I can reserve a cabin as soon as you feel strong enough to be moved.”

  “That’s good.” He took a breath as if speaking was still an effort. “I thought for one awful moment that you were running around doing your own bit of detecting. There are still Prescott’s men all over the place. Do you know if they’ve made any progress?”

  “I’ve only just returned,” I said. “I have no idea what the police are doing here until I go and ask them.”

  “Then find out and report back to me.” He squeezed my hand. “I’m feeling strong enough to be nosy again.”

  I turned to kiss him. “You’re as bad as I am.”

  He took my face in his hands. “Some honeymoon this has turned out to be, hasn’t it?” he said. “But don’t worry. I’ll try to make it up to you.”

  “You already did.” I gazed at him lovingly. “By not dying. Now I’ve got my whole life ahead with you. That’s all I need.”

  His lips came toward mine in our first proper kiss for days. The moment was spoiled by footsteps coming up the stairs and his mother appearing in the doorway. “Here we are, son,” she said. “Some of my soda bread. That’s just what you need to build you up.”

  I stood up, still holding his hand. “I’ll leave you to it then,” I said. “I’ll report back as soon as I find out anything.”

  Mrs. Sullivan shot me a warning glance as I went past her. I paused in the kitchen to help myself to a slice of soda bread. Sam had already decimated the plate of cakes.

  “She’s a good cook, “ he said. “Mrs. McCreedy used to be a good cook too. She made jam tarts.” And that bleak sadness returned to his face. I remembered what I had been told.

  “Sam,” I said cautiously. “When your cousin Colleen died, you weren’t on the lawn with everyone else. Your cousin Eliza said you came running up, looking guilty.”

  His young face flushed bright red. “How did you know about that?” he said.

  I ignored the question. “So what had you been doing?” I asked. “Why weren’t you with the others?”

  He grimaced. “All right, if you really want to know—I’d been in the kitchen, helping myself to cakes,” he said. “She told me not to touch them, that they were still cooling, but I snuck in when everyone else was sitting on the lawn. Then I heard this awful scream and everyone was yelling. It was horrible. I really liked my little cousin. We used to play together. I’ve always felt, you know, that I might have been able to save her if I’d been around.”

  “You believe that Kathleen pushed her, do you?”

  He looked up, surprised. “Of course. How else could she have fallen backward over the cliff? And Kathleen never said a word after that. That had to mean she was guilty, didn’t it?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’d like to find out.”

  “She pushed Mrs. McCreedy today,” he said. “Nobody else could have done that.”

  That was true enough. I wanted to believe Kathleen innocent, but nobody else knew that she had been hiding up in the tower.

  I left him to his eating and made my way across the grounds. Two policemen were standing at the door to the house. They barred my way. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but nobody is to go in at the moment. The chief and the doctor are still up there.”

  “And my friends are still with the young girl?”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said
. “I just know that I have orders that nobody is to go inside. You’ll find the rest of the family out on the lawn, I believe.”

  He folded his arms, making it quite clear that he was not going to let me past that door. So I had no choice but to go to the lawn and join the family. I wasn’t sure they’d welcome an outsider at a moment like this, but they appeared almost jolly as I approached them, chatting away and passing food. Eliza looked up and spotted me.

  “Mrs. Sullivan, do come and join us. Have you heard the latest news?”

  “I’ve been out all day,” I said. “I just returned to find more newspapermen and the police won’t let me in the house.”

  “That’s because poor Mrs. McCreedy was found dead,” Eliza said. She motioned to the maid to pull up a chair for me. I sat. “And you asked me about our cousin Kathleen. Little did we know that she’s been in the house all this time. My uncle Brian had a suite of rooms made for her up in the tower and apparently Mrs. McCreedy was taking care of her, until now.” She leaned closer to me. “I can tell you it’s a load off everyone’s mind.”

  “That your uncle has been providing for her so well?”

  “No!” she said scornfully. “That it’s now obvious who killed Uncle Brian. She pushed her sister over the cliff, and then her grandfather, and now her caregiver…” She paused. “Poor little thing,” she added. “She’s obviously out of her mind. Uncle Brian left a large sum of money for one of us to take care of her, but now, after this, she’ll have to be locked away, won’t she? She’s clearly not safe.”

  I looked around the group. Irene’s eyes were red as if she’d been crying, but other than her I could read the relief in their faces. It wasn’t one of them, it was a deranged person. Life could return to normal. I accepted a cup of tea from a maid.

  “You’ve heard the shocking news about Brian’s granddaughter Kathleen, I suppose,” Joseph Hannan said as he noticed I had joined them. “What was he thinking to keep a dangerous lunatic here in the house, where she could have escaped and done harm to her brothers? We are just debating what should be done with her. She’s obviously not responsible for her actions but the police will want her locked away.”