The Rogue of Fifth Avenue

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The Rogue of Fifth Avenue Page 23

by Joanna Shupe


  The words scraped across Frank’s nerves like a straight razor. Two months ago, he might have agreed; but, after all he’d seen and learned, from Mrs. Porter and her children, Mrs. Barrett, to his own brother, Frank knew better. Merely because they struggled and lived in a tenement didn’t mean they were bad people.

  And Frank had met plenty of blue-blooded criminals who’d committed despicable acts . . . and never paid the price. Because you’ve helped them. You craved the money and power, turning your back on those less fortunate.

  “She is not an animal,” he said. “She is someone who needs help and I aim to give it.”

  “At what expense?” James asked, his voice cracking in outrage. “Ours? This firm’s?”

  Frank looked at the faces of the men he’d considered colleagues and friends. They were everything he’d aspired to become when he escaped Worth Street and went to school. Rich beyond his dreams, welcomed at every club and restaurant in town. Meetings with the mayor and state senators. Beautiful women whenever he desired.

  Now he saw these men for what they were: cold, calculating. Elitist. Mercenaries, ready to do anything for a buck.

  Before I decide to help this woman, I wish to know what’s in it for me.

  Shame crawled across the back of his neck. Had he really said that to Mamie?

  “Charles, James,” William said. “Give us a moment, will you?”

  Their jaws tight, the other two partners stormed out of Frank’s office. The door slammed shut and silence hung over the room like a dark cloud.

  “Now, Frank,” William started. “I’ve always felt like a bit of a father to you. When you first started here at the firm, right out of school, I knew you had a special gift when it came to dealing with difficult clients. As you know, I’m the one who recommended you for partner. And while your intentions with Mrs. Porter are noble, nobility is not what this firm is about. If you want to save the world, I’m certain some legal aid society would be happy to have you.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “If you antagonize Duncan Greene, do you think any other man of his stature would hire you? Would hire us? Why would they, when they know we don’t have their best interests in mind.”

  “I do not plan on antagonizing Duncan. Whatever is between his daughter and me—”

  “Wrong. You are well aware of what he thinks about his daughter and her impending marriage to Livingston. Working on this case, pursuing her, whatever you’re doing right now . . . all of that will upset him. And you’re too smart not to realize that.”

  Frank ground his back teeth together. Of course he realized it. He was merely at a point where he didn’t care. Mamie was worth it.

  “Equally distressing is this situation with Byrnes. You need to set things right, quickly. Whether that means wrapping up the Porter case, apologizing to Byrnes, sending a case of whiskey to police headquarters, I couldn’t say. But you’d best fix it before this firm suffers for your rash behavior.”

  “Or?” He wanted the partners to spell out the consequences. What did they plan to do if Frank continued on his current path?

  William shook his head. “You don’t want me to answer that.”

  “I do, actually. Are you saying you’ll force me out?”

  “Yes, since we’re speaking plainly, that is exactly what I’m saying. I haven’t spent the last forty-six years building up this firm from nothing only to lose it because one of my partners went and forgot his place. If it’s you or this firm, I will choose the firm every time. So, were I you, I would remain an asset here and do my best not to become a liability.”

  Frank pounded a fist on the desk. “More than half of last year’s revenue came from my cases, William. You need me more than I need you.”

  “The bit about the revenue is true, but only because the others cut back on hours and let you handle the load. If you leave, the rest of us will take up the slack.” He rose and slipped his hands into his pockets. “And it’s worth noting if word gets around that you’ve made enemies of Byrnes, the police department, Livingston and Greene—which it certainly will—no other firm would dare touch you in this town. You might as well move out to California and start all over out there, because your career will be finished on the East Coast.”

  The trees of Washington Square Park were just beginning to bud, the smell of spring heavy in the air. Mamie walked along the path with the Porter and Barrett children. She’d gone downtown to visit and offered to take the older children to the park to give Mrs. Barrett a break. The children had been enthusiastic for the trip after being cooped up inside for most of the day.

  The Barrett boys asked Mamie for permission to explore on their own, and Henry slid closer to them, his hopeful expression indicating he wished to explore as well.

  “Henry and Katie, would you like to join the boys?”

  Katie immediately shook her head. “I’d prefer to stay with you, if you don’t mind.”

  Henry’s face fell. Knowing she had to speak to Katie privately, Mamie asked, “Would you mind if Henry went with the other boys, then?”

  She hesitated then nodded. “As long as he doesn’t get lost.”

  Mamie understood. The girl’s family had been torn apart, and her brother was all she had left at the moment. “Boys, stay together. Do not wander off and keep an eye out for each other. Katie and I will wait by the fountain.”

  The boys ran off, not bothering to even say goodbye. Mamie took Katie’s hand and they strolled toward the giant stone fountain, which was dry right now. The girl was quiet, so Mamie tried to think of a way to start off this difficult conversation. “Did you know this fountain came from Central Park?”

  “It did?”

  “Yes, it was at the Fifty-Ninth Street entrance. They moved it down here to replace the old broken fountain. Isn’t it pretty?”

  In the late spring and summer, water sprayed high from a spout in the middle, the droplets falling into the huge round basin. Rows of seats lined the inside of the basin for New Yorkers to cool off during the hot months. “Shall we sit?”

  “Are we allowed?”

  “Yes, most definitely. In the summer this fountain is crowded with people.”

  Katie sat stiffly next to Mamie on the top step. Mamie took a deep breath and decided to forge ahead. “How are you and your siblings faring?”

  “All right. The families we’re staying with are nice.”

  “I know this is a difficult time for all of you, but I promise I’m doing everything in my power to help your mother.”

  Katie stared at her toes. “I miss her so much.”

  Mamie wrapped an arm around the girl’s slim shoulders. “It’s going to turn out all right. You’ll see.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Has a man asked you to come and speak to the judge?”

  “I think so. I might have heard him talking to Mrs. Barrett about it. What will I have to do?”

  Hadn’t the prosecutor explained any of this to the little girl? Mamie tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “Your mother will meet with a judge in a few days. This is when everyone says whether or not there is enough evidence to send her to prison for a long time. If the judge thinks there’s enough evidence, then a trial will start.”

  “I don’t want her to go to prison.”

  “Neither do I. The problem is they may not believe your mother about what happened with your father.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re used to people lying, even in front of a judge. So you need to tell the judge the truth about what happened that day, as well as what it was like in your household.”

  Katie frowned, her expression serious. “What will they ask me?”

  Mamie couldn’t lie. The girl had to be prepared for any bad memories stirred up by her testimony. “They will ask you about your mother and father, what they were like and their relationship with one another. They’ll ask you about the day your father died, about what happened.”

  “I don’t lik
e thinking about any of that.”

  “I know, sweetheart. That’s perfectly understandable. But we need someone to tell the truth.”

  Katie thought about this for a moment, her gaze unfocused and distant. “They won’t believe me. My daddy’s cousin is a policeman.”

  So she knew about Detective Porter. “All you have to do is tell the truth. Your mother’s lawyer will help prepare you for what to expect.”

  “What about Mrs. Barrett? Will she mind that I’m helping?”

  They didn’t have a choice, as Katie was on the prosecution’s witness list. “I’ll speak to her when we return and make sure.”

  “Will you come with me?” Katie dragged in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to go alone.”

  “Of course. I’ll be there the whole time, I promise.” She squeezed the girl’s shoulders. “We’ll see Mr. Tripp tomorrow. He’s your mother’s attorney and he’s very good at his job. He’ll tell you exactly what to expect.”

  The boys returned and Katie joined them to walk around the edge of the fountain’s basin. Mamie enjoyed watching the children as they ran and laughed. She’d let them play a few minutes longer then take them for ice cream.

  Suddenly, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She looked over her shoulder and discovered a man standing almost directly behind her. He was tall with a ruddy complexion, a nose that suggested he was no stranger to spirits. He wore a derby low on his forehead. “Nice to see children in the park, especially at this time of year,” he said.

  Mamie swallowed, instantly alert. A quick glance in her periphery revealed no one close enough to intervene should this man have violent intentions. The children were far away, thank heavens. “Do I know you?”

  “No, but I know you. I’m a friend of Edward Porter’s.”

  The police detective and cousin of the deceased. Was this man also a police officer? Her heart began to race, blood rushing in her ears. “What do you want?”

  “Nice of you to take an interest in the wee urchins,” he said, ignoring her question. Instead, he tipped his chin toward the kids playing in the empty fountain. “The city is so dangerous for children.”

  Was that a threat? Her blood chilled. Yet, as the daughter of Duncan Greene, Mamie had learned to stand her ground. She wouldn’t let this man intimidate her or harm these sweet children. “They are not your concern. Have you something to say to me? If so, I wish you would say it and leave.”

  The man’s face tightened and he leaned in. “You and your . . . partner, Mr. Tripp, you’ve made some terrible enemies lately. If you knew what was good for you, you’d back off. Let the courts handle this.”

  The way he spat the word partner was not lost on her. Did he suspect that she and Frank were lovers? They had been careful. How would anyone possibly know? “I don’t care for your tone or your words, sir.”

  “You’d best watch yourself, Miss Greene. I don’t think your father would appreciate how you are spending your days . . . or your nights.”

  Speechless, she sucked in a breath and could only stare as he sauntered off down the path.

  The door opened and Mrs. Porter appeared, her hands shackled in irons. Dark circles sat heavily beneath her eyes, her skin pale. Frank rose, Mamie and Otto beside him, as the matron brought Mrs. Porter forward and helped her into a chair.

  They had come to see Mrs. Porter and discuss the preliminary hearing. The sooner this moved forward, the sooner she could return home. If they went to trial, so be it. But Frank hoped to get the charges dismissed as quickly as possible.

  Especially with the police now making threats against the Porter children.

  Moments ago, as they had waited, Mamie confided in him about the outing to the park, the man who’d approached her. Angry beyond reason, Frank nearly put his fist through the wall. Had Edward Porter no shame whatsoever? And what of Byrnes? Threatening children was disgusting, even for the superintendent.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Porter,” Frank said when she’d settled. Then he addressed the matron. “Please remove the irons.”

  “I was told—”

  “No doubt you were. I’m afraid I must insist, however.” He held the matron’s stare. Mrs. Porter was no danger to anyone, and he’d rather she were comfortable.

  The matron grumbled under her breath but did as Frank asked. After telling them she’d wait outside, she departed.

  “How are you?” Mamie reached across the table to clasp the other woman’s hand.

  “Tired. It’s hard to sleep here.”

  Frank nodded. Most of his clients in prison had said the same, that the noise, unfamiliar surroundings and worry caused chronic insomnia. “I’m doing my best to move this forward quickly. That’s actually why we are here.” He gestured toward Otto. “This is Mr. Rosen, the investigator working on your case.”

  “Ma’am,” Otto said with a dip of his chin.

  She nodded once but said nothing in return.

  “Your preliminary hearing is in three days,” Frank said. “That’s what we need to discuss.”

  “Preliminary hearing?”

  “Yes. It’s basically where the prosecution shows the cards they’re holding to the judge. We’ll try and convince the judge to dismiss the case, while the prosecution will argue for a jury trial.”

  She closed her eyes and swallowed. “What will I do?”

  “Nothing. The burden of proof is on the district attorney. You won’t testify. However, I wanted to discuss our strategy with you first, so you won’t be surprised in court.”

  “All right.”

  He leaned back in his chair and kept his arms loose, not folded or crossed. People generally found this posture trustworthy and calming. The last thing he needed was to put his client on edge. “If this does go to a jury trial, we intend to argue you were forced to strike the deceased with a pan to protect your children. It’s a clear case of self-defense.”

  “That’s correct,” she said when Frank paused.

  “That won’t be mentioned at the preliminary hearing, however. The other side will argue that you killed your husband without just cause. Also, they intend to put Katie on the stand, as she is their best witness to say what happened that morning.”

  “No.” Mrs. Porter’s eyes grew wide and her back stiffened, as if she’d seen a ghost. She looked at Mamie then back at Frank. “They cannot ask her to do that.”

  “I understand it’s upsetting,” he said. “But we don’t have a choice. The prosecutor may call whomever he wishes to testify.”

  “Why can’t I just tell them?”

  “You will, if we go to trial.”

  She rubbed her brow, her head bent. “I don’t understand. Why can’t I just tell them at this preliminary hearing?”

  “Because this isn’t a trial. We don’t offer a defense at a preliminary hearing. We just poke holes at the prosecution.”

  “What about my neighbor, Mrs. Barrett? I suspected she knew what was happening. Not everything, but she could guess what it was like, living with Roy. She could testify instead.”

  Frank gentled his voice. “We’ll ask her to testify at the trial, I promise. We’ll do everything we can to prove you were justified in killing him. But for our purposes, we just need to weaken the prosecutor’s case.”

  When she lifted her head there were tears gathered in her eyes. “I cannot ask Katie to suffer on my behalf. I want her to forget what happened that day, not remember it.”

  “That’s completely reasonable,” Mamie said, squeezing the other woman’s arm. “However, I spoke with Katie and she understands what will happen in court. She wants to do whatever she can to get you home as quickly as possible.”

  “She’s a good girl. I know this has been hard on her.” Mrs. Porter’s chin wobbled. “I would spare her from any bad memories, if I could. I never wanted for them to understand what he was really like.”

  Yet, Frank thought, children always knew. They were far more perceptive than adults gave them credit for. His mother had tried to
lie about what was happening with their father, but the Murphy children were painfully aware. And they’d escaped as soon as possible—all except Patrick, apparently.

  “Miss Greene will be in court to lend Katie support,” he said. “She’ll make sure to help her through the process.”

  “If I just plead guilty and go to jail, then she wouldn’t need to testify.”

  “Would you really do that?” Frank asked. “Who would take care of your children, then?”

  Mrs. Porter wiped her eyes and turned to Mamie. “What would you do, Miss Greene?”

  The question seemed to surprise Mamie, who sat back and blinked. “Me? Well, I don’t have children. I’m not really qualified to answer.”

  “But if you did have children, what would you do in my place?”

  Mamie considered this, chewing her lip for a moment. “I think . . . I would let her testify. Telling her story might help her to feel a bit more in control of what’s happening. As far as her own memories, I cannot see how this experience would make them better or worse. The memories are already formed in her mind.”

  Mrs. Porter dragged in a heavy breath. “You’re probably right. I just do not want her hurt.”

  “Nor do I,” Frank said.

  “Mr. Tripp and I will watch out for her.” Mamie folded her hands and tilted her head thoughtfully. “But before you agree, I thought you should be aware of what happened—”

  “Miss Greene,” Frank snapped, his body instantly on alert. “May I see you outside a moment?”

  Mamie shot him a confused look. “Now?”

  “Yes, right now.” He raised his brows meaningfully and rose. “Please.”

  She excused herself and followed him into the corridor. Frank closed the door behind them as Mamie rounded on him. “What on earth has gotten into you?”

  “Were you planning to tell her about the man in the park?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes, why?”

  His suspicion had been correct. “You cannot share that with her. It’ll only upset her and she’ll decide to plead guilty.”

  “Then that is her decision, Frank. She should have all the information before making up her mind.”

 

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