“I’m sure you’re anxious for more grandchildren,” Mrs. Decker said.
“I don’t care a thing about grandchildren, but one has a duty to carry on the family name, doesn’t one?”
The parlor door opened, breaking the awkward silence, and a beautiful young woman stepped in, also swathed in the unrelieved black of full mourning.
“Oh, here she is at last,” Mrs. Devries said, as if they had been waiting hours. “My daughter-in-law, Garnet. Mrs. Decker and her daughter, Mrs. Brandt.”
Sarah and her mother made the proper replies to Garnet Devries’s polite greeting, then they offered their condolences on her recent loss, to which she merely murmured a stiff, “Thank you,” before taking a seat on the chair farthest from her mother-in-law.
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Devries said. “I know Garnet will feel Chilly’s loss more than any of us. He was so very fond of her, you know.”
Sarah turned in time to catch an expression of the fiercest hatred twisting Garnet’s lovely features.
If looks really could kill, the Devrieses would be planning two funerals this week.
4
FRANK HAD GOTTEN THE ADDRESS OF CHILTON DEVRIES’S office from Felix Decker yesterday, and he found the building without too much trouble. Devries, it seemed, owned a good chunk of New York City real estate and kept his family in style by collecting rents from the thousands of people who had no choice but to live in the run-down hovels men like Devries provided for them. As an elevator operator guided the car to the top floor of the tall building, Frank wondered idly if Devries owned the building where he lived with his mother and his son.
An attractive young female sat at the desk in the reception area, a rare sight but growing more common by the day as women learned typewriting and other office skills. Frank recognized the type—plump and wholesome. Devries knew what he liked. She looked as if she’d been crying, but she smiled bravely as Frank approached her desk.
“May I help you?”
Frank introduced himself, making her smile vanish. “I need to speak to whoever is in charge now that Mr. Devries is”—he caught himself when he saw she was tearing up again—“gone.”
“I suppose Mr. Watkins could help you.” She disappeared into one of the offices that opened off the reception area and returned to escort him in.
Mr. Watkins greeted him with suspicion. An older man with graying hair and a solid gold watch chain stretched across his slight paunch, he looked like someone perfectly capable of assuming whatever responsibility would fall to him now that Devries was dead. He invited Frank to take a seat on one of the chairs situated conveniently in front of his desk.
“I’m very sorry about Mr. Devries,” Frank said. “Have you worked for him for a long time?”
“Twenty-seven years in March.” Watkins leaned back in his impressively large chair and peered at Frank thoughtfully. “Why are you here, Mr. Malloy?”
“Because we believe Mr. Devries’s death was not natural, and I need to find out who might have wanted to murder him.”
“Good God, you must be insane. Who would want to kill Mr. Devries?”
Frank remembered Lizzie the maid’s theory, but he didn’t voice it. “A man as rich and powerful as Mr. Devries must have made some enemies along the way.”
“Mr. Devries inherited most of his real estate holdings from his father, and I and my staff have added to them quietly and without drawing undue attention to Mr. Devries and his family. I assure you, no one has any reason to bear him a grudge.”
“What about his tenants? Has he evicted anybody lately?”
“Mr. Devries has never evicted anyone. We have staff who handle those duties. In fact, Mr. Devries spent little time here, and I assure you, I know of no one who wished him ill because of his business interests.”
Frank pretended to consider this for a few minutes. “What do you know about Salvatore Angotti?”
“Who?”
“Salvatore Angotti. Don’t you know him?”
“Never heard of him.”
Frank believed him. “He doesn’t work for the company, then?”
“Certainly not. Although…as I said, we have staff members who handle difficult tasks for us. I don’t know everyone who works at that level.”
“Who does?”
“I’ll summon him. Miss Shively?” he called.
The girl came to the door.
“Will you ask Mr. Pitt to come to my office immediately, please?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Who would keep track of Mr. Devries’s appointments?” Frank asked when the girl had gone.
Watkins frowned. “As I said, Mr. Devries didn’t spend much time here, and when he did…Well, he has never taken much interest in the company.”
“What did he take an interest in?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. My responsibility is to make sure the company runs smoothly and continues to be successful.”
“To make a lot of money, you mean.”
Like most people who had money, Watkins didn’t like to talk about it. “That would be the result of success, yes.”
“And is the company successful?”
“I can assure you it is.”
“Then Mr. Devries didn’t have any reason to be upset with anybody here?”
Mr. Watkins appeared to be offended. “Certainly not!”
“And you hadn’t had words with him about anything?”
Mr. Watkins’ cheeks were growing red. “I haven’t seen Mr. Devries in several weeks.”
“Was that unusual?”
“Not at all.”
Frank nodded, considering. “Do you know about the woman who lives in the house on Mercer Street?”
This time Watkins stiffened slightly. “Which house on Mercer Street?”
“I think you know which one. The one where Miss English lives.”
“Is that her name?”
“So she says. I take it Mr. Devries didn’t deed it to her.”
Watkins sniffed derisively. “I’m surprised he didn’t make her pay rent.”
For the second time today, Frank had to keep his jaw from dropping open. “What will happen to her now?”
“I couldn’t say. That will be up to …”
“To who?”
Mr. Watkins frowned. “I was going to say to the family, but …”
“I can see how awkward it would be for you to raise the subject. But surely, you can talk to his son. He’s a man of the world.”
Plainly, Mr. Watkins did not agree. “I suppose …”
“You don’t need to be in a hurry about it. I’m sure the girl would appreciate having some time to make other arrangements.”
“Girl? Why do you call her a girl?”
“Because she’s not any older than Miss Shively out there.”
This news seemed to disturb Mr. Watkins even more, but Frank didn’t have an opportunity to discuss it with him any further because another man came into the office. He stopped when he saw Frank.
“Excuse me, Mr. Watkins, I—”
“Come in, Pitt.” Watkins introduced him to Frank. Pitt was about Frank’s age, early thirties, and his pale skin, thinning hair, and slight build marked him as a man who spent his days in an office. “Mr. Malloy needs to know if we have anyone working for us by the name of…What was it again?”
“Salvatore Angotti.”
Pitt’s pale eyebrows rose. “Is Mr. Angotti in some sort of trouble?”
At last, someone who knew this Italian. “No,” Frank lied, managing to keep his excitement from showing. “I just need to ask him some questions.”
“Does this man work for us?” Watkins asked, obviously not pleased by the thought.
“Oh, no. Or at least, he isn’t on our payroll.”
“Who is he, then?” Watkins asked.
“He assists us with…difficult cases. When someone refuses to move out, for instance. We rarely have that situation,” Pitt hastened to explain to Frank. “Most people, when they
can’t pay the rent, they stay as long as they possibly can, until they can’t put us off any longer, and when we come back the next day, they’ve vanished. They’re embarrassed, you see. Or afraid we’ll get the law on them or something. Many of them are from countries where the authorities are worse than the criminals.”
Frank had often thought that was true in New York City, too, but he didn’t say so. “Sometimes they don’t vanish, though.”
“Yes, and then…Well, it’s foolish to put our employees in danger. People like that can be unpredictable and…well, dangerous.”
“And that’s when Mr. Angotti helps you.”
“Yes. Mr. Angotti enjoys…respect,” he said, choosing the word with obvious care. “When people learn he is involved, they usually behave reasonably.”
Frank nodded, comprehending the situation only too well. “Why would Mr. Devries have gone to see this Angotti?”
Pitt suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and he glanced at Watkins as if for guidance.
“What is it, Pitt?” Watkins asked.
“I…I had no idea Mr. Devries knew Mr. Angotti.”
“And yet he did,” Frank said.
Pitt’s gaze shifted to Frank but didn’t quite meet his before it darted away again. “I can’t imagine how he would. Mr. Angotti…Well, he isn’t the kind of person a man like Mr. Devries would know, is he?”
“I don’t know what kind of people Mr. Devries might know,” Frank said, “but he did know Angotti. Did you introduce them?”
The color drained from Pitt’s face. “Certainly not! Mr. Devries would never ask me for an introduction to anyone.”
But Frank would have sworn that Devries had done just that, however much Pitt didn’t want to admit it. The question was, did he not want to admit it in front of Watkins or in front of Frank?
“There you have it, Mr. Malloy,” Watkins was saying. “You must be mistaken about this Angotti fellow knowing Mr. Devries.”
“How can I get in touch with this Angotti?” Frank asked Pitt.
Pitt’s hands were shaking now. He clasped them tightly together to hide it. “Why would you want to do that?”
“What do you care?”
Pitt glanced at Watkins again but received no assistance from that quarter. “I wouldn’t want Mr. Angotti to become offended. He might…He might begin to work against us in the community.”
“You mean he might burn down your buildings?” Frank asked.
Pitt blinked several times. “I just meant he might refuse to help us in the future.”
“I’m sure if you continue to pay for his services, he will continue to help,” Watkins said. “Those people all have their price.”
Pitt flushed. “May I go now, Mr. Watkins? I’m very busy.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Thank you for your assistance.”
Frank didn’t thank him because he hadn’t been that helpful. He hadn’t even told Frank where to find Angotti.
Which gave him a good excuse to see Pitt again before he left.
SARAH WATCHED IN FASCINATION AS GARNET DEVRIES’S expression smoothed out again, all trace of the emotion that had caused her to glare so murderously at her mother-in-law vanquished. Whatever she felt about her in-laws, her face now revealed none of it. She turned a bland smile to Sarah.
“I don’t think we’ve met before, Mrs. Brandt.”
“No, we haven’t. I don’t move in the same social circles as my mother.”
“Sarah hasn’t been in society for years now,” Mrs. Devries said. “Ever since she married.”
Sarah didn’t even glance at Mrs. Devries, not wanting to give the impression she was ashamed of not wasting her life as a society matron. “I married a physician, and I’ve been very happy in my new life.”
“I know your parents were disappointed that you refused to return home after your husband died,” Mrs. Devries said.
Sarah sensed her mother stiffen beside her at the implied criticism of Sarah’s choice. “We would have loved having Sarah return to our home when Dr. Brandt died, but I must admit, I’m very proud of the way she has managed on her own. I could never have done such a thing at her age.”
Sarah could hardly believe her mother was defending her. She felt a warm glow to know after so many years that her mother admired her.
“How do you manage?” Garnet asked, leaning forward. “To support yourself, I mean.”
Sensing her question was more than idle curiosity, Sarah said, “I’m a midwife.”
Surprise and something else flickered across Garnet’s face and then was gone. “How interesting.”
“I should hate it myself,” Mrs. Devries said. “I can’t think of anything more unpleasant than listening to women screaming in agony all the time.”
Sarah bit back the words she wanted to say. Arguing with Mrs. Devries would be pointless, and she didn’t want to distress her mother by debating with her friend.
“I’d like to hear about it,” Garnet said. “Perhaps—”
“You wouldn’t like to hear about it at all,” Mrs. Devries said. “You can find out everything you need to know when you have your own children. Until then, the less you hear about it, the better.”
Once again, Garnet glared at her mother-in-law, but Mrs. Devries wasn’t paying attention.
“What a lovely gown, Elizabeth,” Mrs. Devries said. “Who made it for you? All my mourning clothes are sadly out of fashion, and I’m going to need something new.”
For a few minutes the two women discussed the relative merits of dressmakers as Sarah surreptitiously studied Garnet. She had folded her hands in her lap and again smoothed all trace of emotion from her face. Sarah thought this would be a useful skill to acquire if she had to live with Mrs. Devries.
Sarah’s mother asked about the funeral arrangements, and Mrs. Devries explained they had to wait until the police returned the body. She had no idea how long that would take.
“I suppose Paul will be taking his father’s position in the company,” Sarah said, hoping to find out something useful to help Malloy.
“Oh, heavens, no,” Mrs. Devries replied.
“Paul has no head for business,” Garnet said.
Mrs. Devries flushed. “That isn’t the reason at all.”
Garnet frowned with apparent confusion. “Isn’t it? I’ve heard Father Devries say so a hundred times.”
Mrs. Devries flushed scarlet. “Silly girl! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Oh, no, Paul simply has no interest in commerce. His tastes are too refined for that. Putting him in an office would be a waste of his talents.”
“What talents are those, Mother Devries?”
This time Mrs. Devries glared at Garnet, who seemed as unconcerned as her mother-in-law had been at her evil looks.
“Where are you from originally?” Sarah’s mother asked Garnet with a hint of desperation in her apparent eagerness to change the subject. “I don’t know that I ever heard how you and Paul came to meet.”
“She’s from Virginia.” Mrs. Devries waved her hand dismissively.
“We moved here when I was still in school,” Garnet said. “My father was in the importing business.”
“He tried to join the Knickerbocker.” The glow of satisfaction in Mrs. Devries’s eyes indicated he had failed. “That was how he met Chilly.”
“And when he met me,” Garnet said, “he decided I would be perfect for…Paul.”
Sarah felt a chill at the tone of her voice, but her expression betrayed nothing. Garnet could have been carved from stone.
Mrs. Devries nodded a bit too enthusiastically. “That’s right, although Paul could have married anyone at all. Such an accomplished young man and so handsome. Many girls were bitterly disappointed when he married Garnet, I can assure you.”
“One certainly was,” Garnet said and smiled at Sarah. “Do you have an office, Mrs. Brandt? Do women come to see you?”
“Some of my patients do, although they prefer I go to them. But I have an office in my home
on Bank Street. I should be happy if you called on me sometime.”
“There’s no point in that,” Mrs. Devries said. “She’ll never have any use for a midwife. She’s barren.”
Sarah’s mother gasped in shock at the casual cruelty of the remark. Sarah quickly said, “I meant a social call. I’m sure my mother would say that I have neglected my old friends dreadfully, and I would be happy to make a new one.”
“Oh, yes,” Elizabeth Decker said. “I would love for Sarah to have more friends. She spends entirely too much time working.”
“And taking care of my daughter.”
Mrs. Devries frowned. “I didn’t know you had a child.”
“Sarah has adopted a little girl from a settlement house,” her mother said.
“How very noble of her,” Mrs. Devries said without much conviction.
“I’m sure she brings you a lot of joy,” Garnet said.
“Yes, she does. I’d love for you to meet her.” Sarah didn’t think she could be any clearer that she wanted Garnet Devries to visit her.
“Garnet won’t be meeting anyone for a while,” Mrs. Devries said. “Not while we’re in mourning, at any rate.” If she saw the flash of irritation that crossed Garnet’s face, she gave no indication. Instead she asked Sarah’s mother her opinion of hymns they might sing at Mr. Devries’s funeral, effectively turning the topic to something she could control.
After a few more minutes of polite conversation, Sarah and her mother took their leave. Sarah didn’t think she imagined the warmth in Garnet’s parting words, spoken so softly no one else could hear them.
“I hope to see you very soon, Mrs. Brandt.”
How interesting that Garnet was as anxious to see Sarah as she was to see her.
When she and her mother were safely ensconced in the Decker family carriage, where no one could overhear them, Sarah said, “I don’t think we learned anything helpful.”
“No, Lucretia is much too clever for that, but you made a friend of the younger Mrs. Devries.”
“I hope so. She wants to visit me. Do you think she could just be lonely?”
Her mother sniffed. “Living in that house? Of course she’s lonely, but I thought it was more than that. She seemed drawn to you.”
Murder on Fifth Avenue: A Gaslight Mystery Page 6
