Murder on Fifth Avenue: A Gaslight Mystery

by Victoria Thompson

  He found what must be the front parlor, a shabby room full of worn-out furniture. He didn’t want to risk any of it, so he was still standing with his coat on when he heard footsteps in the hall. This room was cold, too. There was no fire in the grate.

  “I don’t know who he is,” the woman who had answered the door said, making no effort to keep her voice down. “He ain’t that Italian, if that’s what you’re wondering. This one’s Irish and a copper if I don’t miss my guess. I run a respectable place here, Mrs. Richmond, and I told you when you come here that I don’t allow male visitors, especially Italians and coppers.”

  Another voice replied but too softly for Frank to make out the words. Then a woman appeared in the parlor doorway. She was probably in her forties and had been a beauty in her youth. Her dress was far from new but of good quality, and she had wrapped a cashmere shawl tightly around her shoulders, probably to protect against the chill. He noticed a small hole in the wool near her shoulder. Still, he could tell instantly who and what she was, or rather what she had once been. She held herself erect and met his gaze squarely, the way rich people did when they wanted to put you in your place.

  “Who are you?” Her well-modulated voice held the ring of authority.

  “Detective Sergeant Frank Malloy of the New York City Police.”

  Her eyes widened but she did a good job of pretending she wasn’t afraid. “What do you want?”

  “Are you Mrs. Richmond?”

  “Terry Richmond, yes.”

  “I need to ask you some questions about Chilton Devries.”

  Color flooded her face, but more from anger than fear, Frank judged. “Did he send you here to harass me?”

  Good. She didn’t know he was dead. “No, he didn’t. Salvatore Angotti told me where to find you.”

  Her composure cracked just a bit. “I don’t understand.”

  “Maybe we could sit down and talk for a few minutes. This won’t take long.”

  She didn’t look like she believed him, but she said, “Yes, of course. Please excuse me. I’ve forgotten my manners.”

  He waited until she’d chosen a chair—the one farthest from the still-open parlor door, Frank noticed. They would have to keep the door open for propriety, and the landlady might well be lurking. Frank knew the type. She’d feel it was her duty to know what went on in her house. He snagged a wooden chair from the corner and set it close to Mrs. Richmond’s so they could keep their voices low. She raised her eyebrows at this but didn’t protest. She probably didn’t want the landlady eavesdropping either.

  “How long have you lived here?” he asked.

  “A few weeks.” He noticed she sat on the edge of the seat, her back straight and not touching the chair, the way Mrs. Decker sat.

  “I’m guessing you never had to live in a boardinghouse before.”

  Her expression hardened. “I thought you wanted to ask me about Mr. Devries.”

  “We’ll get to him. Angotti told me he came to see you. He told me Devries wanted him to kill you.”

  She trembled, or maybe she shivered, but she didn’t speak.

  “Why did Devries want you dead?”

  “Why don’t you ask him that?”

  “I’m asking you.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “Mrs. Richmond, I’m trying to be nice here, but I can just as easily send for a Black Maria and have you taken down to Police Headquarters and locked up instead.”

  “You can’t lock me up! I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I can do anything I want because I’m with the police. Now are you going to answer my questions or not?”

  The look she gave him could’ve drawn blood, but she said, “What do you want to know?”

  “Why did Devries want you dead?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the truth, Mr. Malloy,” she added when he frowned. “I had no idea he was interested in me at all until Mr. Angotti called on me last week.”

  “What did Angotti tell you?”

  “I…He’s such a strange man. He’s so polite and so well dressed, but he’s terrifying.”

  “I guess he was if he told you he was supposed to murder you.”

  “He didn’t tell me that, not at first. At first he just said Mr. Devries had sent him.”

  “How do you know Devries?”

  “I…My husband knew him.”

  “How?”

  “They were business associates.”

  “But not anymore?”

  “My husband is dead.”

  Frank glanced meaningfully around the boardinghouse parlor. “He didn’t leave you very well off.”

  “My husband was a fool.”

  So much for the grieving widow. “I guess he didn’t manage his money very well.”

  “Devries cheated him.”

  “How did he do that?”

  “I don’t understand business, Mr. Malloy, and my husband wasn’t eager to explain to me exactly how he’d been tricked into giving Devries all of our money, but it had something to do with a new railroad. My husband was quite flattered when Devries suggested he invest in the project. That’s what he called it, a project. We would make millions, Keith told me. I didn’t want him to do it, but he said there was nothing to worry about because rich men were investing, and they must know it was safe.”

  “But the railroad didn’t succeed?”

  “I don’t know what happened. Something to do with stock and prices dropping. It was very confusing, and I don’t think Keith really understood either. All I know is that we lost everything.”

  “What about your husband’s own business? I’m guessing he earned his living somehow before this happened.”

  “He lost that, too. He’d borrowed against it, I think. He didn’t even have the courage to tell me any of this himself. I had to find out after he…died.”

  “How did he die?”

  “He killed himself.”

  Frank winced inwardly. “And then you found out you’d lost everything.”

  “I didn’t lose it. Keith did.” He could see her anger had burned itself down to a white-hot core of resentment.

  “But you’re the one who had to suffer. Did you ask Devries for help?”

  “Not at first. I didn’t understand how bad it was at first. Then I started getting letters from creditors, and I soon realized. I sold our house and everything in it. I even sold my jewelry and some of my clothes. Mr. Devries was very helpful. He found buyers for me, although I’m sure he managed to cheat me somehow on that, too.”

  Frank suspected she was right. “And you ended up here?”

  “No, I left New York and went home, to my parents’ house. My father is dead, and my mother was glad to have me with her.”

  “What brought you back here?”

  “My daughter needed me.”

  “Your daughter?”

  Frank remembered how Mrs. Decker’s face lit up whenever she talked about Sarah, but Mrs. Richmond’s face did not light up. Her eyes were bleak and her voice flat when she said, “Yes. You see, Mr. Devries had told me he was able to salvage some monies from my husband’s investments, and he arranged for me to have a small annuity. Without it I would have had nothing. You understand what that would have meant?”

  He did. Women in that situation were fished out of the East River or found starved to death in their rented rooms. A young woman might survive by selling herself, but not a woman of Mrs. Richmond’s age. “That was generous of Mr. Devries. Sounds like he was trying to make it up to you for cheating your husband.”

  “You must not know Mr. Devries very well. He never does anything out of the goodness of his heart, and he certainly never lets feelings of guilt influence him. This was a business transaction, pure and simple. He wanted something of mine and was willing to pay for it.”

  “What did he want?”

  “My daughter.”

  Suddenly, everything fell into place. Norah English, the innocent young girl with the phony name. Frank nodd
ed. “I’ve met her.”

  “She was willing,” Mrs. Richmond told him, her composure slipping at last. “You must believe that. I didn’t force her. I would never have forced her to do anything against her will. I couldn’t take care of her myself anymore, and no one else would marry her, not with no dowry and a father who’d killed himself. Keith had ruined my life and her prospects completely. She would never have gotten a better offer, and she knew that as well as I.”

  Frank had heard stories like this before. “So you turned her over to Devries and left town.”

  “She begged me to go, and I really had no choice. This is how I have to live here in the city, and she couldn’t bear the thought of it, or so she said. But she also …” Mrs. Richmond pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and pressed it to her lips.

  “She what?” he asked.

  “I think she also didn’t want me to see how miserable she really was.”

  That made sense. What girl would? “What brought you back?”

  “Her letters. She didn’t tell me, not outright, but I knew something was wrong. I came for a visit, and when I found out …” She pressed the handkerchief to her lips again.

  “What did Norah tell you?” he asked as gently as he could.

  She looked up in surprise. “Who?”

  “Norah, your daughter.”

  “My daughter’s name is Garnet.”

  8

  FRANK NEEDED A FEW SECONDS TO RECOVER. “GARNET?”

  “Who is this Norah?” she asked, as confused as Frank.

  “Uh, nobody. I…Your daughter is married to Paul Devries?”

  “Yes. You said you’d met her.”

  “I have. Do you know why your daughter was unhappy?”

  “I can’t imagine that’s any of your business, Mr. Malloy.”

  Frank sighed. She kept forgetting she didn’t have money anymore, and he really hated having to remind her. “If it had something to do with why Devries wanted you killed, then it’s my business.”

  “I already told you, I have no idea why.”

  “Then let’s figure it out.”

  “What good would that do?”

  Frank studied her for a long moment and realized that she really wasn’t as unmoved as she was trying to convince him she was. He could see it now in the tightness of her jaw and the way she clutched the handkerchief in her lap. Underneath her manners and her hauteur, she was afraid. He could deal with that.

  “Mrs. Richmond,” he said softly, “a strange man came to see you the other day and told you that your son-in-law’s father had hired him to murder you. I don’t think for one minute that you don’t know why or at least suspect,” he added when she would have protested. “We can also guess that it has something to do with your daughter, and if you’re in danger, she probably is, too.”

  The blood drained from her face. “No, I don’t believe it!”

  “That doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Even if you don’t care about yourself, you should care about your daughter.”

  Frank could see that a lifetime of training in how a lady should conduct herself was the only thing preventing her from collapsing into hysteria. Tears flooded her eyes, and she dashed them angrily away. “He wouldn’t hurt Garnet, would he?”

  “Why would he hurt you?”

  “I told you—”

  “And I told you, let’s figure it out. When did you first start thinking something was wrong with your daughter?”

  She drew a deep breath. “I don’t…I can’t remember exactly, but maybe four months ago. Her letters…She’d never seemed particularly happy in her marriage, but suddenly, she wrote asking if she could come to live with me at her grandmother’s house. I thought she meant a visit, and I told her she would always be welcome, but she asked if her grandmother would welcome her if she wanted to stay.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I didn’t know what to tell her. I couldn’t ask my mother a question like that, could I? She’d want to know what was wrong with Garnet and…Well, I must confess, I don’t think my mother would approve of a woman leaving her husband like that. It just isn’t done.”

  “So what did you tell her?”

  “I asked her what was wrong, and I told her I would be glad to give her the benefit of my wisdom to help her solve whatever problem she might be having with her husband.”

  “But she didn’t tell you what was wrong.”

  “She only said that nothing I could say would help.”

  Frank sat back in his chair. “That sounds like a serious problem.”

  “I was frightened, Mr. Malloy. My daughter was talking about leaving her husband, and I could tell from the tone of her letters that she was in despair. I couldn’t invite her to come to me, so I came to her.”

  “And what did she tell you when you got here?”

  “Not much more than I’ve already told you. I’ve only seen her three times since I’ve been here. I couldn’t invite myself to stay at the Devrieses’ house, so I stayed in a hotel at first. I called on Garnet, but Mrs. Devries was very cold. She made it clear I was not welcome. I couldn’t believe it, but I suppose she was only expressing her husband’s wishes. Mr. Devries had no desire to be reminded of how badly he had treated my husband, I’m sure.”

  Frank wasn’t so sure. He didn’t think Devries had much of a conscience, so why would seeing Mrs. Richmond bother him? “Paul Devries said he and his father argued because Devries was being cruel to Garnet. Maybe she wanted to get away from him, not Paul.”

  “I know Garnet despised him, but that started long before she married Paul. She blamed him for her father’s death.”

  “Did Garnet say anything to you about Devries? Give you any idea what he might have done recently that was especially cruel?”

  “No, she…In fact, at first I thought she might want to escape from Mrs. Devries. The woman is intolerable, and she dotes on Paul. No woman would ever be good enough for him, especially not Garnet.”

  Frank had no trouble at all believing that. “Lots of women hate their mothers-in-law. That doesn’t make them want a divorce. Didn’t Garnet tell you anything at all about why she wanted to leave Paul?”

  Mrs. Richmond hesitated, then shook her head. “No, she didn’t tell me anything.”

  But Frank had seen the hesitation. “You have an idea, though, don’t you? Is it something about Paul?”

  “No, I don’t…I told you, she never told me.”

  “But she hinted. She said something that made you suspect.” Frank took a chance. “Something about why they don’t have any children.”

  She sprang to her feet, her face flaming. “How dare you?” she cried. “Get out of here! Get out of here right now before I call …”

  “Who?” Frank taunted. “The police?”

  “Mrs. Higgins.”

  “The landlady?” he scoffed. “She’s more likely to put you out. You’re trouble, Mrs. Richmond. First an Italian thug calls on you, and then a police detective. She runs a respectable house. She doesn’t need you spoiling her good reputation.”

  Mrs. Richmond glared at him as if she’d like to scratch his eyes out, trembling with fury and frustration. He felt sorry for her, but he couldn’t let that stop him from finding out the truth. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what I need to know, so why don’t you sit down, Mrs. Richmond?”

  He could see the effort it cost to pull herself together, and he admired her strength. She sat down as reluctantly as if the seat were covered with broken glass. At least the fear had vanished from her eyes. All he saw there now was anger.

  He knew she wasn’t going to answer any more questions, so he decided to tell her what he’d guessed so far and let her respond. “You don’t think Paul was much of a husband to Garnet. Maybe she told you he spent all his time with his good friend Zeller and ignored her.”

  Mrs. Richmond’s eyes widened, telling him he was at least close to the truth.

  “You tried to get Garnet to tell you w
hy she wanted to leave Paul, but she wouldn’t. You said you’d seen her three times since you’ve been in town. Did she visit you here?”

  He had to wait a full minute before she finally said, “Yes.”

  “She came here to see you, but she wouldn’t tell you what was wrong. Did she want you to go home or did she want you to stay?”

  “Go home,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “Did you ask her to go with you?”

  No answer.

  “Did you talk about it, at least?”

  Her cheeks flamed again. “I have no home of my own to offer her.” The pain behind the words tore at him, but he couldn’t stop now.

  “And what did you think when she told you about the baby?”

  She jerked as if he’d slapped her. “What baby?”

  “The baby she’s going to have.”

  She uttered a strangled cry and fainted dead away.

  Frank swore as he jumped to catch her before she hit the floor. He lowered her as gently as he could to the worn carpet and hollered for the landlady. The woman came stomping into the room, probably intending to give Frank a piece of her mind, but she stopped short when she saw Mrs. Richmond.

  “Good heavens, what’ve you done to her?”

  “She fainted.”

  “How do I know that? Maybe you did something to her!”

  “You can ask her when she wakes up.”

  She sighed with long-suffering. “I’ll get my salts.”

  Frank tried to remember what you were supposed to do when someone fainted. All he could think of was loosening their clothes and chaffing their wrists. He decided just to wait for the smelling salts. Mrs. Higgins returned with a vial. She pulled the cork and waved it under Mrs. Richmond’s nose.

  Soon Mrs. Richmond was conscious and back sitting in her chair, but she was still furious at Frank, and now Mrs. Higgins was, too.

  “I don’t know who you think you are, but you got no right coming in here and upsetting people like this,” the landlady said.

  Frank figured Mrs. Richmond wasn’t going to tell him anything else, at least not today, but first he had to find out if she could have killed Devries. “You said an Italian visited Mrs. Richmond,” he said to Mrs. Higgins. “Did she have any other visitors? Any other men, I mean.”