Murder in Chelsea

by Victoria Thompson

  “Is the little girl all right?” he asked the moment Frank came in.

  “No thanks to you.”

  “Thank God.”

  “One less murder to count against you on Judgment Day, I guess.” Frank grinned at his startled look. “I know you killed Emma Hardy.”

  “I never—”

  “Don’t bother to deny it. Gilda Wilbanks told us everything.”

  “No! She wouldn’t!”

  Which, of course, meant she could have and was all the confirmation Frank needed. “To save her own skin? She would’ve sold out her own mother, so a distant cousin was no great loss.”

  “She didn’t tell you anything. I know she didn’t.”

  “If that’s what you think, then let me tell you how it happened. Gilda sent for you as soon as she found out the little girl was coming to see Wilbanks today. She didn’t say how long you’d been planning this, but maybe for a while, so you’d already talked to Klink—”

  “Klink!”

  “Yeah, he told us everything, too. You gave Klink that story about the little girl being taken from her mother and how you were going to help get her back. You must be a good liar, Udall. He believed every word, and he’s no fool. It was a nice touch, telling them nobody was supposed to get hurt. Made you look like a hero instead of the kind of low-life scum who murders children.”

  His face was ashen. “I didn’t kill her.”

  “Only because we got there in time. And you did kill Emma Hardy, didn’t you? What did you put in the whiskey? Laudanum?”

  He shook his head but without much conviction.

  “I guess you were disappointed when Emma didn’t drink much of it. Is that what you were counting on? That she’d be unconscious when you choked the life out of her?”

  “No! No!” He clapped his hands over his ears.

  Frank grabbed his wrists and yanked his hands away. “She must’ve fought like a wildcat. Look at your hands.” He held them up to Udall’s face so they both could see the scratches. “She had your blood under her fingernails, Udall. How long did it take her to die? Two minutes? Three? Five? And you were staring right into her eyes the whole time, weren’t you?”

  Udall screamed and slammed his head down on the table. Frank released his hands and he clamped them over his head, as if trying to shield himself from a blow.

  “Do you still see her face, Udall?”

  “Yes!” he cried. “Yes, I do, every time I close my eyes! I haven’t slept in days.”

  Frank leaned back in his chair. “Did you tell Gilda that? How did she expect you to kill a child?”

  He lifted his head. “She didn’t care! She said she’d stabbed that woman herself, and what did I know about killing because there wasn’t even any blood when Emma died. She said it was my duty to get rid of the child. She couldn’t do it because she had to be at the house with Wilbanks, so it had to be me. And then we could be together, just like we always wanted.”

  “Not exactly like you always wanted,” Frank said, “unless you wanted to live with Gilda and her husband.”

  This time Udall sat back in his chair and his bloodless lips curled into a smile. “She didn’t tell you that part, did she? About how she was waiting for the old man to die, and then as soon as he did, Ozzie was going to get really sick. He’d linger for a few weeks, and then he’d die. She had it all planned out. She read it in a novel, she said, just how to do it with arsenic, a little at a time.”

  The hairs on the back of Malloy’s neck stood up. He’d had no idea. “Why didn’t she hurry the old man along, too?”

  “Why take a chance? He was already dying, and his doctor is there every other day. He might notice something, so she was just waiting.”

  Frank’s mind raced. Would Wilbanks believe all this? Would he be willing to see Gilda arrested and tried for murder? But how would Frank prove any of this without Udall’s testimony? And would he stick by his story when he found out Gilda hadn’t betrayed him after all?

  “I didn’t kill the little girl,” Udall reminded him.

  “Only because we got to you first,” Frank reminded him right back.

  “No, I was supposed to kill her at the hotel. Gilda said to put a pillow over her face or something so I wouldn’t have to see her. Then I was supposed to drop her in the river when it got dark. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hurt her.”

  “So you were just going to drop her in the river alive and let her drown,” Frank said, letting Udall see every bit of his contempt.

  “I tried, but I couldn’t do it! I gave her some more chloroform so she wouldn’t know what was happening. I didn’t want her to be afraid.”

  “That was kind of you.”

  “But I couldn’t do it. I laid her down because I couldn’t do it. I was still trying to figure out what to do when you found me, but I wasn’t going to put her in the river, I swear to God!”

  “You better hope God believes you, because I don’t,” Frank said, rising to his feet. “We’re going to lock you up now, and tomorrow you’ll go to the Tombs, where you’ll stay until you’re tried for killing Emma Hardy, and then you’ll get to try out Old Sparky.”

  He frowned. “Old Sparky?”

  “The electric chair where they execute murderers, Udall. So Judgment Day for you is coming a lot sooner than you thought.” He started for the door, then turned back as if he’d just remembered something else. “Oh, and by the way, you were right about Gilda. She never told me anything about you. In fact, she tried to blame Ozzie for killing Emma Hardy. So tomorrow I’m going to call on her and tell her you told me everything.”

  Frank could still hear Udall screaming when he walked out of the building.

  * * *

  SARAH HAD SPENT THE NIGHT IN THE NURSERY, CURLED up beside Catherine in the bed where she herself had slept as a child. She couldn’t stand the thought of being any farther away from her than that. Catherine woke up early, little the worse for her harrowing adventure the day before.

  “Mama, why are you sleeping in my bed?”

  “Oh, my,” Sarah said, trying to act surprised. “I just lay down with you last night until you fell asleep, and I guess I never woke up!”

  “I had a bad dream,” she said with a frown. “A bad man took me away from you.”

  Sarah stroked her face. “It was only a dream, my darling. See, you’re right here, safe and sound. Now let’s get up and see what’s for breakfast.”

  Mrs. Decker joined them and Maeve in the nursery for breakfast, and they had a wonderful time pretending nothing untoward had ever happened. They were debating whether to go to church that morning when the maid came up to tell them Malloy had arrived.

  Catherine wanted to see him, and Sarah thought he’d want to see her as well, so they all trooped downstairs to the family parlor, where Malloy and her father were deep in a conversation that ended the instant they entered the room.

  Catherine ran to him, and Sarah wished that she could, too. She followed more sedately, managing to keep her dignity. When he’d lifted Catherine into his arms and finished greeting her, he smiled at Sarah in a way that made her heart ache.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Brandt.”

  “Good morning, Malloy. Catherine had a bad dream last night,” she said quickly so he wouldn’t say anything to confuse her.

  “Did she?” He looked at her for confirmation.

  “You were in it, too,” she said. “You brought me back to my mama.”

  “You were the hero, Mr. Malloy,” her mother said.

  “I don’t know about that, but I’m glad I brought you to your mama. I’m sure she was very happy about that.”

  “I was,” Sarah said, thinking how very happy she really was.

  Malloy teased Catherine a bit about how pretty she looked, and finally, Maeve said, “We need to let the grown-ups talk now. Time to go upstairs.”

  Catherine pretended to pout, but Malloy handed her over to Maeve, who mentioned some of the toys waiting for them upstairs, and Ca
therine went willingly. When they had gone, Sarah’s mother had the maid bring in some coffee, and they settled into what were becoming their regular seats, with Sarah and Malloy on the sofa and her parents across from them in their chairs.

  “Did you learn anything new from Udall?” Sarah asked.

  “I learned we were right about most of it. Gilda is the one who planned it all.”

  “Gilda?” her father said. “Surely not.”

  “Why?” her mother asked. “Because she’s a female?”

  While that may well have been the true reason, her father was wise enough not to say so. “She hardly seems clever enough. Now if you’d told me Sarah had concocted an elaborate plan, or you, my dear, I would certainly believe it.”

  “Udall is the one who’s not very clever,” Malloy said diplomatically. “He said Gilda stabbed Anne Murphy.”

  “She must have gone to the boardinghouse looking for Catherine,” Sarah said.

  “But how would she have known where Miss Murphy was living?” her mother asked.

  “Hicks’s private investigator had found her, and Udall had access to his reports,” Malloy said. “She probably didn’t intend to kill Miss Murphy, but when she found out nobody else knew where Catherine was, she saw her chance. With Miss Murphy out of the way, she probably thought no one would ever find her.”

  “I just remembered, the girl at the Mission told us a woman had been there asking if any little girls lived there,” Sarah said. “We thought it was Emma, but maybe it was Gilda.”

  “That’s possible,” Malloy said. “Gilda was the one who sent Udall to kill Emma. He’d brought the drugged whiskey for her, but she didn’t drink enough of it, so killing her was a lot more difficult than he’d thought it would be. He said he hasn’t slept since.”

  “You never told us how you found him,” Sarah said.

  “Are you sure you want to hear the story?”

  Sarah didn’t have to think about that. “Yes. I need to know.”

  “Michael Hicks told me they had a client who might have arranged the kidnapping for Udall, so we went to see him. Turns out he was right.”

  “That scoundrel,” her father said. “I hope you arrested him.”

  Malloy gave him a sheepish grin. “Actually, he’s the one you might need to pay the reward to.” He explained how Udall had lied to engage Klink’s help. “And he told us where to find Udall. He’d taken Catherine to a hotel, but he was so unnerved by killing Emma that he couldn’t harm Catherine or at least that’s what he claimed.”

  Sarah thought there might be more to it than he was telling her, but she said, “Thank heaven for that.”

  The maid knocked on the door and told Malloy that he had a telephone call.

  “How did they know you were here?” Sarah asked.

  “They must’ve sent someone to my flat. I told my mother where I was going.”

  He excused himself, and when he was gone, Sarah happened to remember something she’d intended to ask. “Mother, do you know what a Mickey Finn is?”

  “Of course I do, dear.”

  Sarah smiled. She’d have to inform Malloy.

  But her father said, “What is it then?”

  She gave him an impatient glance. “He’s one of the boys in those books that Mr. Twain wrote.”

  “That’s Huckleberry Finn, my dear,” he said with a smile.

  “Is it? Then who is Mickey Finn?”

  Sarah wouldn’t tell Malloy after all.

  They were still discussing Mickey Finns when Malloy returned, his expression grim.

  “What is it?” her mother asked. “Not bad news, I hope.”

  “That was Police Headquarters. Terrance Udall hanged himself in his cell last night.”

  15

  FRANK HAD TO GET TO GILDA WILBANKS BEFORE SHE found out about Udall, so he’d left the Deckers’ house immediately and headed for Wilbanks’s house. He’d asked Headquarters not to notify anyone else about Udall’s death, but Gilda would have found out last night from Hicks that Catherine had been rescued and Udall arrested. She would not know he’d betrayed her, however. Still, she’d had all night to make her plans. If she loved Udall as he thought she did, she would probably try to save them both. Frank had all of that in his favor.

  What he didn’t know was who might still try to protect her.

  The maid told him that both Mr. and Mrs. Hicks were still there, so he asked to see them. They received him in the parlor. They didn’t look as if they’d slept much the night before.

  “How is little Catherine?” Lynne Hicks asked when they had exchanged greetings.

  “She’s fine. She slept through most of her ordeal, and she thinks it was a bad dream.”

  “That’s a blessing.”

  “How is Mr. Wilbanks?” Frank asked.

  The two exchanged a glance. “Not well, I’m afraid,” Hicks said. “The shock made him very ill.”

  “He was greatly relieved to hear you’d found Catherine, of course,” Lynne said, “but he’s so weak. We don’t know how well he can recover from this, if he can at all.”

  “I was afraid of that, but I must speak with him. I need to know how he wants me to handle the situation with Gilda.”

  “Was she really involved in Catherine’s kidnapping?” Lynne asked.

  “According to Udall, she was the one who planned everything, and she actually killed Anne Murphy herself.”

  Frank had expected shock, but Lynne Hicks was merely furious. “Then you must arrest her like the common criminal she is.”

  “I’d like nothing better, but it’s not that simple.”

  Michael Hicks nodded. “You’re concerned about who might want to protect her.”

  “When Mr. Wilbanks dies, Ozzie will be a very rich man, and Gilda is his wife,” Frank said. “He can use his money to make sure she never even goes to trial. And if he won’t protect her, her own family probably would, if only to spare themselves from the scandal.”

  “Her family no longer has any great wealth, but they can probably marshal enough influence to accomplish the same thing,” Michael said. “They’ll also want to see Udall released.”

  Frank wasn’t going to tell them about Udall yet. “Your father might want to protect his family from scandal as well, but I know something that will change his mind. May I speak with him?”

  “I’ll ask him if he feels up to it,” Lynne said.

  When she was gone, Frank said, “Thank you for your help yesterday, Mr. Hicks.”

  “I’m just glad I guessed correctly. Klink might have had nothing to do with it.”

  “I guess we’re lucky Udall didn’t have any other criminal friends.”

  “I’ve never liked Gilda, but it’s hard to believe a woman could be so cold-blooded, especially about a child,” Hicks mused.

  “We often underestimate the female of the species, Mr. Hicks. What she lacks in physical strength, she often makes up for in intelligence. We should be grateful that most of them use their talents for good.”

  Lynne returned. “Father is quite anxious to see you. He wants to hear everything that happened yesterday. But please, you can’t stay long. He tires very easily.”

  Frank asked Michael and Lynne to accompany him. He wanted them to know exactly what he said to Wilbanks and what Wilbanks said to him.

  Wilbanks lay in his bed, his face white against the pile of pillows supporting him. His valet had placed a chair beside the bed, and Frank sat down. Michael and Lynne stood at the foot of the bed.

  Frank saw the pad of paper lying in his lap and the pencil grasped loosely in his fingers.

  “Speaking makes him cough,” Lynne said. “So if he needs to tell you anything, he’ll write it down.”

  Frank assured Wilbanks that Catherine was perfectly all right, then told him everything that had happened yesterday, how Hicks had taken him to Klink and how they’d found Udall with Catherine at the river’s edge. He spared none of the details he’d glossed over for Sarah’s benefit. He wanted Wi
lbanks to know exactly how close they had come to losing the child. Then he told him what Udall had confessed and how Gilda had killed Anne Murphy and Udall had killed Emma Hardy.

  “The only thing he told me that I didn’t already suspect was Gilda’s plan to kill Ozzie,” Frank said finally.

  Lynne Hicks gasped, but Frank’s gaze never left Wilbanks’s face. Pain flickered in his eyes before igniting into fury.

  “She wasn’t going to be satisfied being the wife of a wealthy man,” Frank continued. “She wanted all the money for herself and Udall, so as soon as you die, Gilda plans to slowly poison Ozzie. Then she and Udall will have your money and each other.”

  “We must tell Ozzie,” Lynne said. “He’s been defending her, insisting she couldn’t possibly have been involved.”

  “He won’t believe it,” Hicks said. “He’ll just defend her more vigorously.”

  “Mr. Wilbanks, what I need to know is whether you want to shield your family from scandal by protecting her.”

  Fury blazed in his eyes, and the words he scratched out on his pad reflected it. “Let her hang.”

  * * *

  GILDA REFUSED TO SEE HIM ALONE. OZZIE SAT BESIDE her on the parlor sofa, and Frank wondered why she’d insisted on his presence. Frank couldn’t believe she wanted her husband to hear her accused of murder, but maybe she did. Maybe she had a plan he couldn’t even imagine.

  Frank sat down in the chair across from them. “Mrs. Wilbanks, your cousin Terrance told me some very disturbing things last night.”

  “I doubt that very much.”

  Frank had seen that expression before. Rich women used it when they wanted to intimidate someone. He’d even seen Sarah use it on occasion, and it could be very effective on servants and people who felt powerless. Frank did not feel powerless. “I can understand why you don’t believe me. Udall told me how you’ve been in love for years and weren’t allowed to marry because you’re cousins. You must’ve thought he’d never betray you, but I’m afraid I lied to him to get him to cooperate. I told him you’d betrayed him first. You see, I’d figured out almost all of your plans, and I knew you’d killed Anne Murphy—”

  “That’s ridiculous!” she said.