by Rhys Bowen
I was about to make my way back to the bedroom door when I saw the handle start to turn. I had no time to dodge into the dressing room or behind the wardrobe as Desmond O'Mara came in. He started when he saw me.
“Miss Gaffney, what are you doing in here?”
“I might ask you the same thing, Mr. O'Mara,” I said, sounding a lot braver than I felt.
“I watched you go along the gallery and then you vanished. I was curious as to why you would want to enter a room which was clearly forbidden to you.” He closed the door behind him. “In fact I have been intrigued by your behavior since you came here. You arrive out of nowhere and start questioning everybody, then there are two deaths within one week. Can that be simple coincidence, I ask myself?”
I had an instant decision to make. I could come up with a perfectly innocent excuse or I could attack in my turn. I chose the latter. “As to that, I am asking myself the same question, Mr. O'Mara, especially when I observed you hurrying toward the cliff path on the afternoon when Miss McAlister plunged to her death. And you did not return to the house until the next morning, thus establishing your alibi, I've no doubt.”
I saw his eyebrows raise. “I must say you are very different from most young women, who only seem to notice who is wearing what and which young man smiled at them. But I have a word of warning for you, if I may, Miss Gaffney. Are you aware of the old saying, ‘Curiosity killed the cat’?”
“I am quite aware of it, Mr. O'Mara.”
“Then I beg you take it to heart, Miss Gaffney, or you may be next in line.”
“Is that a threat, Mr. O'Mara?” I was amazed how composed I sounded.
“Please take it as a friendly warning from someone who is concerned for your welfare.” He glanced around the room, then back at me. “You have landed yourself, I fear, in a—” He broke off abruptly as the bedroom door opened yet again. This time Joseph Rimes was standing there.
“What the deuce do you two think you are doing? Can't you read the notice on the door? Nobody is allowed in this room.”
“I'm sorry, Mr. Rimes,” I said meekly. “I'm afraid I am to blame. I didn't want dear Cousin Theresa to be taken away before I had a chance to say my good-byes to her. Mr. O'Mara noticed me creeping into the room and was naturally suspicious about my motives.”
Joe Rimes sighed impatiently. “She’s already dead, Miss Gaffney. You can't say good-bye to a corpse.”
I smiled at him. “You've obviously never lived in Ireland where most of us carry on the most spirited conversations with the dead.” I moved past him and out of the room, then I looked back at the sheet on the bed. “Don't worry, Cousin, well give you a grand old wake,” I said.
Twenty-nine
I heard Desmond and Joe Rimes discussing Dr. Bimbaum’s departure as they went down the stairs, then I stood alone, holding onto the banister and looking down at the black and white tiles of the front hall while I took some deep breaths and tried to digest what had just happened. I had suspected there was some-thing not quite right about Desmond O'Mara from the beginning. I had wondered what kept him here and was no closer to finding the answer. But now I had good reason to fear that the motive wasn't a good one.
Now he had actually warned me to keep my nose out of his business,- hadn't he? I had to find a way to let Daniel know. Had I mentioned Desmond O'Mara to him? I wasn't sure what I had said during his surprise visit through the window. My weakness at the time and his very closeness as he sat on my bed must have addled my brains.
I wondered if I could find a chance to sneak into Barney’s study and use the telephone, then I decided it would be too risky. Even if Barney and Joe Rimes went out, they didn't always take Desmond with them, and there was always the ever-lurking Soames sneaking around. So it would have to be the long slog to the village and back, which I wasn't looking forward to as the day had become especially muggy and sultry. And I was still feeling weak from my Iillness. Then I remembered the Van Gelders next door. They should be told about our tragedy and I could volunteer myself to be the bringer of the bad news—and ask to use their telephone at the same time. Just in Hartley was possibly still there, but I had to take that risk.
I was about to go downstairs when I heard a little voice coming from Eileen’s room. “London Bridge is falling down,” the child was singing, but the song broke off abruptly. My heart went out to the poor little thing, shut away up there with her nurse, probably wondering just what was going on and what would happen now that she had no mother. I just prayed that Barney had visited her as promised and had told her the bad news. I didn't want to be the one to break it to her.
When the door opened, I could tell instantly that she had been told. She was wearing a plain navy blue dress with no adornment and her hair had been pulled back into two pigtails. What’s more, she was wearing black stockings and shoes.
“Oh, Miss Gaffney,” the nurse said, looking startled, “I hope you haven't come to complain about the singing. I've tried to teach the child decorum but she doesn't seem to take in the seriousness of the situation.”
“Why would she?” I asked, smiling at Eileen as I came into the room. “The poor little mite hardly knows her mother from the Queen of the May. And the very young have no concept of death.”
Nurse nodded. “You're right about that. She keeps asking me when her mommy will be coming back from heaven and can she go there to visit.”
“I'll try to talk to her if you like,” I said. “At any rate I thought she might welcome a visit. You too.”
“I won't deny it gets awful lonely stuck up here,” the nanny agreed. “She’s a sweet child, affectionate and bright for her age, but I do miss the company of women. Sometimes Cook comes up of an evening and we have a nice little chat together, but that’s about it. The maids are just fly-by-night girls except for that Adele, who thinks she’s too grand for the rest of us—as does Mr. Soames.”
“Mr. Soames is an interesting man,” I said. “Does he ever talk to any of you about himself? He speaks such a beautiful upper-class English I'm wondering whether he started out life in service, or if he’s come to reduced circumstances?”
Nurse shook her head. “If he’s said anything, it’s never been to me,” she said. “He keeps himself to himself. I couldn't tell you if he was bom in England or Timbuctoo.”
Eileen had come up to me and was tugging at my skirt. “Come and play with me,” she said. “Nurse says I'm not to play because of Mommy going to heaven, but it’s boring just looking at my Bible pictures.”
“We won't be allowed to play anything too rowdy,” I said, stroking her sleek, dark head, “but I don't think Nurse would mind if we played a quiet game.”
“With my Noah’s ark?” she asked, glancing up at Nurse, who nodded silently.
I knelt on the floor beside her as she took it out and I remembered something. I put my hand into my skirt pocket and it was still there. “Eileen, I have a surprise for you,” I said. “You'll never guess what I just found.” And I produced the camel.
Eileen’s eyes opened wide for a moment, then a beaming smile spread across her face. “You found it—the missing camel! You are so clever. Now the other camel doesn't have to be lonely.” She took the camel from me and placed it tenderly beside its mate.
I hardly noticed what she was doing because I was staring at her as if I'd been struck by a thunderbolt. Until this moment I had never seen her smile. Now she had smiled and it was enchanting. Her whole face lit up, those dark eyes flashed and two adorable dimples appeared in her cheeks. And the amazing thing was that I had seen those dimples and that smile somewhere before, as I sat with Margie McAlister on the bench inside an inn, after I had just run her over on my bicycle.
“Miss Gaffney?” Eileen tugged at my sleeve. “Miss Gaffney, you can be Mr. Noah if you like today. I'll be the man who brings the animals to the ark.”
“Are you all right, Miss Gaffney?” Nurse asked. “You've gone quite pale. I understand that you haven't been at all well.”
/> I got to my feet. “You're right. I've had gastric troubles all this week. Maybe I should go and lie down and come back to play with Eileen when I feel better.”
“Oh no, don't go,” Eileen wailed. “I want you to stay and play with me.”
“Where are your manners?” Nurse scolded. “You say, Thank you for coming, Miss Gaffney' You don't go wailing at her like some heathen child.”
“I promise I'll come back and play later,” I said. “Only I just don't feel in the mood to play right now. You can introduce the camel to all his old friends and have a party for his safe return.”
“All right,” she said in her high, sweet voice and was happily chatting to the animals before I got to the door.
Once outside I had to pause and catch my breath again. In this morning of surprises this had been the most incredible. I could hardly have been more shocked if Theresa herself had sat up and spoken to me when I was in her room. Now so much made sense. No wonder Theresa had been so indifferent to Eileen. She had confided in me once that she had tried to show maternal feelings to the child but hadn't been able to. Understandable. What woman could leam to love the child of her husband’s mistress? The clues had been there all along—I just hadn't seen them. Both Belinda and Barney himself had told me that Theresa hadn't wanted him near her since Brendan’s kidnapping. And Barney was a man of healthy appetites— he had demonstrated that clearly enough to me! So what more natural than to turn to the pretty nurse while his wife lay languishing. When they found out she was expecting, Barney must have paid her off and kept the child, pretending it was his and Theresa’s, while Miss McAlister went to live comfortably in a house in Georgetown and kept her mouth shut.
I realized something else too—she hadn't come back to ask for more money. She had wanted to catch a glimpse of her daughter. Hence my feeling that we were being spied on when I played with Eileen in the woods. But somebody had seen her as a threat, even if she hadn't asked for money. With a sinking feeling in my stomach I decided that the only person could be Barney himself, unless it was Theresa … and Theresa now lay dead.
My heart was racing so fast that I could hardly breathe. I had to get out of the house this minute. Even if Barney thought I was his cousin, I no longer felt safe. I would go to the Van Gelders, put in a telephone call to Daniel and ask him to arrange to have me picked up today, not tomorrow. I tiptoed down the stairs. I heard Desmond’s voice saying, “The mail has just arrived, Senator. Do you want to go through it in your office?” and Barney’s voice mumbling some sort of reply. So at least they were all safely busy and not able to witness me slinking out of the house.
The constable was still standing on duty outside the front door. I was tempted to talk to him, but I couldn't really think what to say Everything I knew was pure supposition, apart from Eileen’s smile. It would surely be taken as female hysterics and would put me in even greater danger. I'd have to leave it to Daniel to decide what should be done and who should do it. This was a task too big for me.
I glanced down at the river and saw Dr. Bimbaum being rowed across to the train, sitting up straight and correct in the skiff. Be-linda was still at the table on the veranda, writing letters. She looked up as I passed her.
“Oh, Molly, there you are. I wondered where you had gone.”
“Where’s Cousin Clara?” I asked.
“In the kitchen, bossing Cook around, I should think,” Belinda said. “She’s the only person who is actually enjoying herself. Doesn't this all seem unreal to you? Almost like watching a play and not knowing what’s going to happen next?”
I nodded. “That’s exactly how I feel.”
“I'm writing to our relatives,” she said, “but I can't seem to find the words. It doesn't seem possible. I keep expecting to see her coming down the stairs any moment.” She sighed and patted at her hair although the sleek coil around her head was perfectly in place. “I feel so terrible, Molly. I wasn't really a good sister to her.”
“You were a fine sister,” I said. “You came to visit, didn't you? And you brought Dr. Bimbaum because you thought he could help her.”
“That’s part of the reason I feel so terrible,” she said. “My action brought about her death. I'll have to live with that on my con-science for the rest of my days.”
“You did what you thought was best,” I said softly. “We can't do any more than that. I'm sure Theresa doesn't blame you. And you know as well as I do that she wanted to be at peace. Now she is.
Let’s pray she’s with Brendan.”
She tried to smile. “Yes, do let’s pray that.”
“I think I'll gofora walk,” I said. “I can't stay in the house.”
For a moment I thought I had done the wrong thing and that she was about to volunteer to come with me. She put down her pen beside the inkwell, then shook her head and picked it up again. “No, it’s no good. I have to finish these letters whether I want to or not.”
“I should write to my family in Ireland,” I said, “but I just can't do it now. Like you, I just can't seem to get my thoughts in order. Some good fresh air might help.”
“I'd hardly call it good fresh air today,” Belinda said, peering out from the veranda. “In fact it feels thundery to me.”
“It does,” I agreed. “But I'll make sure I'm back before it rains.”
I passed the constable, who gave me a hard stare. “Where are you off to then, miss?” he asked.
It took all my self-control to answer politely, “Just for a stroll around the grounds.”
“I've been thinking about what you said and it’s made me a mite uneasy,” he muttered. “I'll not rest until our detective has had a look at things.”
“You have a detective coming?” Suddenly I felt a whole lot better.
He nodded. “I put in a request when I called about the morgue wagon. So with any luck we should have both of them showing up soon. At least I hope it’s soon. I'm sweating like a pig, pardon my French, standing out here and getting eaten to pieces by mosquitoes.”
“I'm sure the family wouldn't mind if you sat on the veranda,” I said, “or even in the front hall. When you see one of the servants, tell them I said you should have a glass of lemonade.”
“Most thoughtful, miss,” he said. “Watch where you're going now, won't you?”
I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that. Did he have his suspicions too? But Belinda was sitting within earshot so I couldn't say more. I started across the lawn and down to the river. It was all I could do not to run or to look back to see if I was being ob-served. I didn't want to take a direct course to the Van Gelders in case anyone was watching me. Once I reached the riverbankI pre-tended to admire the view. The skiff with Dr. Bimbaum in it was no longer in sight and the riverwas deserted apart from a family of mallards paddling along the shallows, while down toward New York City a paddle steamer was pulling into the dock at Peekskill.
I tried to calm myself down and collect my thoughts, but it wasn't easy. I was beginning to put two and two together and I didn't like the conclusion I was reaching. Barney was the only one who would have known the truth about Margie McAlister, apart from Theresa. And Theresa herself was now dead. Barney was the only one for whom she would have been a threat, which must have meant that he was the one who killed her, unless he had had one of his minions do it for him. Desmond O'Mara had slunk out of the house and not accounted for his presence until the next morning. Did Barney have some sort of terrible hold over him, which made him do evil things at Barney’s bidding?
This is rubbish, I told myself. You really are suffering from female hysterics! I made myself calm down and think things through with logic. But each thought came back to Barney. He was a nice enough fellow, if one ignored the groping hands. But more than one person had told me how ruthless Barney was, how he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. In spite of the perspiration trickling down my back, I shivered. Had he stopped at nothing to get rid of a wife who shut him out of her bedroom and was no longer any use to
him?
I began to meander along the bank in what I hoped was aimless fashion. Then, the moment I gained the safety of the trees, I picked up my skirts and made for the path to the Van Gelders. The wretched skirts kept getting caught on brambles and bushes and I wished again for those bloomers. When I got back to New York I'd see about having a pair made for myself. Then I'd be like Sid and Gus and not care a fig what anyone else thought about me!
Thinking of Sid and Gus brought on a powerful wave of home-sickness. It was a feeling I'd never experienced before. I was only too glad to get away from my home in Ireland. But I missed Patchin Place and Sid and Gus and yes, I even missed Seamus and the children. I'd have given anything to be back there with them right now. I wondered how they were doing and whether Shamey and Bridie had wrecked the house and eaten all the food yet. I hoped Shamey had obeyed me and not taken Bridie to swim in the East River again. I hoped Seamus had found a job. I wondered whether Sid and Gus had held any exciting parties in my absence. It was stupid really, as I'd only been gone a little over a week, but I felt as if I'd been away for months. And I longed for the safety of my own little world away from intrigues, murders and Justin Hartley.
The path led me around the big oak tree where Roland Van Gelder had startled me that day, so I knew I was heading in the right direction. The forest was silent. Not even a bird chirped from the treetops today, as if they too found the weather too hot for them. Even out of the sun the air was muggy and oppressive. Midges buzzed around my face and I brushed them away. As I came around the tree a figure loomed up in front of me and I opened my mouth to scream.
