Isaiah’s eyes darkened with despair and his young face seemed to crumble. “You can’t stop him. Nobody can. Now leave me alone.”
Without waiting for Frank to respond, he darted for the door and let himself out, leaving Frank staring after him impotently.
He swore again. He’d certainly messed that up. He wouldn’t get another chance at young Mr. Wilkins, either. Even if the mother would agree, he’d never confide in Frank now. Mentally crossing Isaiah off his list, he showed himself out without waiting for the maid or the mother. At least he’d learned what not to say to win a boy’s cooperation. Now if only he could figure out the magic words to make one cooperate.
BY THURSDAY MORNING, FRANK WAS READY TO GIVE UP. The second and third boys’ mothers had refused to have their sons involved with the police. Everyone knew no good could come of that. The fourth boy had been warned by Isaiah and refused to say a thing about Upchurch. That left only the two youngest, the ones least likely to be of help. They’d never be able to endure a trial, even if their mothers would allow it, and what mother would?
Knowing he’d failed, he felt an obligation to tell Sarah. She’d expected him to stop this monster, and he couldn’t. He hated having to disappoint her almost as much as he hated what Upchurch had done to those boys, but he had no choice. He couldn’t go on letting her hope.
He stopped by her house on his way to work the next morning, knowing he wasn’t going to waste any more time on the case. He almost hoped she was out on a call, but he found all three females in the household enjoying breakfast together.
The girls insisted he have some coffee with them when he refused their offer of food, so he sat with them for a few minutes, until they were finished.
Sarah knew his news wasn’t good. He’d never been able to fool her, but she kept up a cheerful front until she’d sent the girls upstairs.
“What is it, Malloy?” she demanded when they were finally alone.
He told her what had happened. “I don’t see any reason to try the two younger boys. Their mothers won’t trust a cop any more than the others did, and they’ll be too afraid of Upchurch—or of me—to tell us anything.”
She considered this for a few moments. “I don’t think the boys are afraid of him,” she mused. “They certainly don’t seem to be. In fact, they want to be with him. Even Isaiah is just discouraged, because he’s old enough to figure out it’s wrong, and Upchurch has convinced him he’s untouchable. But what if the other boys haven’t figured it out yet?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, who knows what Upchurch tells them? They’d believe everything he said. What if you asked the younger ones about it but didn’t let on that it was wrong or that Upchurch was in trouble? They might think it was all right to tell you.”
Frank frowned at this unlikely result. “How do I explain why the police are interested in Upchurch then?” he challenged. Surely, even she couldn’t figure out that one.
She tried, wrinkling her forehead with the effort. Frank decided that watching her think was a fascinating activity.
Suddenly, she brightened. “I know, we’ll tell them the truth!”
“What truth?”
“That someone has accused Upchurch of something terrible, and you’re investigating. Everyone will want to prove him innocent, so they’ll be anxious to answer your questions.”
“What if they won’t let me in at all?” he asked skeptically.
“I know Percy York’s mother and grandmother will let you in if I’m with you,” she offered.
Frank never ceased to be amazed at the way her mind worked. “And just how will you explain helping the police?”
He had her there. No respectable lady would be involved with the police, who were for the most part as dishonest as the criminals they arrested. None except Sarah Brandt, that is.
“Oh, let’s see,” she said, thinking out loud. Her brow furrowed again. “I’ll tell them that . . . that you were a friend of my husband’s.”
Frank almost snorted at that, but he let her continue, curious to see what fable she’d concoct.
“And you asked me if I knew anyone in this church who would speak with you, because no one would cooperate, and you were anxious to clear this up before a good man like Reverend Upchurch was ruined by rumors.”
He did snort at that.
“It doesn’t have to be true. It just has to be something they’ll believe, and something that will compel them to help.”
Malloy tried to glare at her, but it was a good idea, and she knew it. She simply grinned back.
“I’ll have to go with you,” she continued, “to make the introduction. I can even talk to Percy and tell him he should be honest with you because it will help Upchurch.”
“You’d lie to that poor boy? How do you live with yourself?” he asked in mock amazement.
“It’s not a lie,” she argued. “It will help Upchurch reform. It’s the Christian thing to do.”
He shook his head in wonder at her logic. “And what if this boy tells us the truth about Upchurch? Do you think his mother will charge him? Do you think they’ll let him testify in court? Do you even think anyone would believe him?”
“There are other ways to punish Upchurch. I’ve been thinking about that, too, and if we can prove he’s guilty, I’ll explain it to you. When can we go to see Percy York?”
10
SUSANNAH EVANS FROWNED SUSPICIOUSLY AT MALLOY. Plainly, she didn’t like the idea of a policeman sitting in her parlor. Sarah just kept talking, hoping the flood of information would overwhelm her into cooperating.
“My husband was a doctor. He often worked on the Lower East Side, and he was able to help Mr. Malloy with some of his cases. He knew Mr. Malloy as a man of integrity, and I have the utmost respect for him.”
Mrs. Evans looked more puzzled than ever. No man of integrity would ever be successful as a policeman. It simply wasn’t possible, and Mrs. Evans knew it. “I see,” she said, although she obviously didn’t.
“Mr. Malloy is investigating some charges that have been made against Reverend Upchurch,” Sarah continued relentlessly.
“Reverend Upchurch!” Now Sarah had her complete attention.
“Yes, and he naturally wants his inquiries to be discreet, because if the charges are false, even a breath of scandal could still ruin his ministry.”
“Of course it could!” Mrs. Evans agreed, outraged at the very thought. “What on earth has he been accused of?”
She’d asked Sarah, but Malloy answered, which was just as well because Sarah hadn’t thought up a lie for this. “I don’t like to say, Mrs. Evans,” he explained respectfully. “Like Mrs. Brandt said, even a rumor can ruin a man like Mr. Upchurch.”
“Of course,” she agreed quickly, seeing the truth of it. “How horrible. Who could have done such a thing?”
“I can’t tell you that either, ma’am,” Malloy said. Sarah marveled at how polite he could be when the occasion demanded.
Mrs. Evans sighed in disgust. “I don’t suppose you can, but it’s simply scandalous how anyone can accuse a man like Reverend Upchurch of something and then be protected himself.”
“It is a terrible thing,” Malloy agreed. “That’s why I’d appreciate your help in getting this settled as quietly as possible.”
Mrs. Evans seemed mollified, but then she turned back to Sarah. “I don’t understand why you’ve come to me, though. Anyone in the church could vouch for Reverend Upchurch’s character.”
Sarah somehow resisted the urge to glance at Malloy. Instead, she leaned forward slightly, knowing she had to convince this woman to do an unthinkable thing. “Mr. Malloy would like to speak with Percy, Mrs. Evans.”
“Percy?” she exclaimed in surprise. “Whatever for?”
This time Sarah did glance at Malloy, silently begging him to respond.
“I’m speaking to all of the boys Reverend Upchurch spends time with,” he obliged her, still calm and reasonable, giving no hint of h
is true suspicions. “They are at the church a lot, and they’re in a position to know what Reverend Upchurch does when other adults aren’t around. If he’s guilty of the accusations, they’d probably know about it, but what’s more likely is that they can say they never saw him doing what he’s been accused of.”
Mrs. Evans laid a hand over her heart. “Oh, my, this is so dreadful. But why do the boys have to be involved? Isn’t there someone else you could ask?”
Malloy gave her a smile Sarah had never seen before. It made him look positively humble. She tried not to let Mrs. Evans see her shock.
“I have to get the truth. I’ve found through experience that well-brought-up children will usually tell the truth, but adults will usually lie, especially if they think they’re helping or protecting someone they respect. In this case, even a well-meaning lie could hurt Mr. Upchurch. Besides, if I question adults, they’ll have to know Reverend Upchurch is being investigated by the police. If the boys can clear this up right away, no one else needs to find out.”
“I just don’t know,” Mrs. Evans murmured, shaking her head in confusion.
“Would you like to talk to his mother about it first?” Malloy asked.
“Oh, no,” Mrs. Evans said in alarm. “My daughter’s health wouldn’t . . . she’s not strong enough to deal with something like this.”
Sensing Mrs. Evans’s inner struggle, Sarah started her barrage again. “I know how upsetting this must be for you, and how much you want to protect your grandson, but I wouldn’t have brought Mr. Malloy here if it wasn’t important. We want to protect your church, too.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, her face pale from the agony of indecision. She turned to Malloy and looked him directly in the eye. “I’ve heard how the police treat people. Percy is just a child, and he’s very sensitive.”
“The police aren’t kind to criminals, Mrs. Evans, but Percy isn’t a criminal. I have a boy of my own, and I’ll treat your grandson the way I’d want someone to treat Brian.”
“Can I be with him when you question him?” she asked.
Sarah held her breath as she waited for Malloy’s reply.
“If you are, then you’ll know what your minister has been accused of,” he reminded her. “You might never be able to look at him the same way, even if he’s innocent.”
Sarah’s jaw actually dropped open before she caught herself and snapped it shut. Mrs. Evans didn’t close hers.
“Oh, my,” she said again, as softly as a prayer this time. “Isn’t there any other way?”
“No, ma’am, there isn’t,” Malloy told her.
Sarah felt a small pang of guilt over the way they were bullying this poor woman, especially because she knew the infinite pain Reverend Upchurch’s betrayal would cause her whole family.
Sarah and Malloy waited, giving Mrs. Evans time to consider their request. Sarah needed all her will power not to fidget or demand that the woman give them Percy. What would they do if she refused? Tell her what they suspected? Frighten and disgust her until she agreed? And would anything they said convince her to allow her grandson to publicly accuse the minister?
“I’ll get Percy,” Mrs. Evans said, rising to her feet. “But you must promise not to frighten him,” she added to Malloy.
“I’ll be as gentle as I can,” Malloy promised.
Mrs. Evans’s brow wrinkled with doubt. Sarah might have doubted, too, if she hadn’t seen Malloy with his own son.
“He’ll be all right,” Sarah added, not sure if she meant Percy or Malloy.
However Mrs. Evans interpreted it, she went to get her grandson.
When they were alone, Malloy turned to Sarah. “You’ll need to sit with her while I’m with the boy. Keep her talking. We don’t want her changing her mind and coming to get him before I’m finished.”
Sarah understood. “You won’t have to scare him, will you?”
The look he gave her made her heart sink. “I need to find out the truth about Upchurch. I’m going to do whatever I have to.”
“I know,” she said sadly. She pushed herself to her feet and began to pace, unable to sit still.
After what seemed an eternity, Mrs. Evans returned with Percy. Sarah couldn’t begin to guess what she’d told him, but he came in with his eyes wide. Fortunately, he looked simply bewildered and not nervous or afraid.
“Percy, you remember Mrs. Brandt. You met her at the Lintons’ house.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said dutifully. “How are you, Mrs. Brandt?”
“Very well, thank you,” Sarah lied. She really felt sick. The boy looked even younger than his years, standing there like a lamb being led to the slaughter.
“And this gentleman is Mr. Malloy,” Mrs. Evans added.
“I saw you at church,” Percy said. “You were with Reverend Upchurch. He said you’re a policeman.”
“That’s right,” Malloy confirmed, his voice gentle, the way it was when he spoke to Brian, even though Brian couldn’t hear it.
Percy gave his grandmother a questioning look.
“Mr. Malloy would like to ask you some questions, Percy,” she said. Sarah could hear the anxiety in her voice, and she knew the boy could, too.
“About what?” he asked, a trace of youthful rebellion creeping into his tone.
“About a very important matter,” she said. “He needs some information from you.”
“Information about what?” he asked suspiciously.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to rat on your friends,” Malloy said with a conspiratorial grin, using slang that Percy wouldn’t have dared use in front of his grandmother. It made the boy grin back.
“That’s good, ’cause I’m no squealer,” he replied.
“What kind of talk is that?” Mrs. Evans demanded.
“It’s the way coppers talk, Grandmother,” Percy explained with a trace of pride that he knew.
“Well, you are not a copper, and you will not use cant, young man.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said solemnly, although his eyes glinted with mischief.
“Now you be sure to answer all of Mr. Malloy’s questions and tell him everything he wants to know. And if you . . . need me . . . for anything,” she added uncertainly, plainly remembering what she’d heard about coppers giving people the third degree, “I’ll be nearby. You just have to call.”
He seemed surprised that she was going to leave him alone with a policeman, but he didn’t protest.
“I’ll go with you,” Sarah said to Mrs. Evans. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about the other activities at the church,” she added, taking Mrs. Evans’s arm and guiding her from the room. As she closed the door behind them, she glanced back to see Malloy and Percy sizing each other up. She breathed a silent prayer that Malloy would find a way to stop Upchurch.
AS HE LOOKED AT THE BOY STANDING IN FRONT OF HIM, Frank felt a hot ball of rage eating through his insides. Part of him yearned to find out his suspicions about Upchurch were false, that the minister’s wife was a wicked liar and he and Sarah had misunderstood everything. Nothing in his life’s experience gave him any reason to expect it, though. As always, he expected the worst.
“Let’s sit down, Percy,” he said, indicating two chairs sitting side by side and turned slightly toward each other to make conversation easier.
Pleased to have been invited instead of ordered, Percy took a seat.
Frank had given a lot of thought to how to approach the boy, and he knew Sarah was right. He couldn’t let on that what Upchurch had done was wrong or he’d never find out anything.
“Somebody’s trying to get Reverend Upchurch in trouble, Percy,” he began.
“Who would do that?” the boy asked, his eyes wide again.
“I can’t tell you, but it’s my job to find out the truth about it.”
“What kind of trouble is he in?” the boy asked. “Are they saying he stole something?”
This was probably the worst crime he could imagine. “I can’t tell you th
at, either. What I can tell you is that your answers will help me clear things up.”
“I don’t want Reverend Upchurch to get arrested,” he protested.
“I don’t blame you,” Frank said, managing not to let his true feelings show. “When I’m investigating a case, I talk to all the people who know something about it. Sometimes they tell me things that prove the person is guilty, but sometimes they tell me things that prove he isn’t. You want to help me prove Reverend Upchurch didn’t do anything wrong, don’t you?”
Percy nodded solemnly.
“I thought you would, but you’ll have to tell me the truth, even if you’re embarrassed or if Reverend Upchurch told you to keep it a secret. Do you understand?”
Percy nodded again. “Yes, sir. At least, I think so.”
Frank drew a deep breath and began. He started with nonthreatening questions about when Upchurch had first taken an interest in Percy.
“Were your mother and grandmother happy that he started paying special attention to you?” he asked then.
Percy nodded. “They’re always saying how sad it is that my father died. They think I need a male influence.”
“Do you know what a male influence is?”
The boy shrugged. “Somebody to play ball with and to teach you things.”
“Is that what Upchurch does? Teach you things?”
“Yes, sir. He teaches us the things our fathers would, if they were still alive.”
“What kinds of things does he teach you?”
“Well, playing ball. He’s really good at baseball.”
“Besides sports, what does he talk to you about?”
Percy grinned sheepishly and kicked his heels against the chair a couple of times. “You know. The things we aren’t supposed to talk about.”
“Who told you not to talk about them?”
“Reverend Upchurch. He said we should never tell a female, of course, because they aren’t supposed to think about those things. He said men don’t talk about them to each other, either, because it’s not gentlemanly. That’s right, isn’t it?”
“Upchurch thinks that’s important, doesn’t he? Being a gentleman?”
Murder on Lenox Hill Page 16
