“I come to see my father,” he said defensively, suspicious of Frank’s mildness. He blinked a few times as if trying to hold back tears.
“It was my understanding that you had an appointment with him two days ago. What kept you?”
Frank’s sarcasm was wasted on the boy. “I did come two days ago, just like he’d said for me to. He said he’d… Well, never mind. I was to come then, in the afternoon. At two o’clock. I waited until I heard the big clock in the tower chiming, then I went up to the front door and knocked. But didn’t nobody answer. I pounded for a long time, but nobody come. Houses like this, they got servants and such. I couldn’t figure why nobody come, so I waited awhile and knocked again. Then some copper come and told me to be on my way, he didn’t like my looks, and I was scared he’d arrest me. I figured I must’ve got the wrong day or something, so I left.”
“Are you telling me you didn’t come inside and you didn’t see your father that day?”
“No, sir. I didn’t see nobody in the house at all.”
“If you had an appointment with your father, why did you wait two days to come back?” Frank asked, keeping his tone gently inquiring. He saw no sense in frightening the boy so long as he was talking freely, even if he didn’t like his answers.
“I didn’t. I come back yesterday, but I seen that copper again. He didn’t see me, but he was walking around the park, acting like he wasn’t going nowhere very soon. I figured if he sees me, he’ll give me his stick, so I kept going. Today I didn’t see him, so I come up to the door and asked to see my father. That’s when that snooty fellow tried to throw me out.”
“I see. Now tell me, Calvin, how you came to be in the city in the first place.”
The boy frowned. He wasn’t eager to share this story, but he knew he had no choice. “I told you, I come to see my father.”
“You came an awfully long way, and it’s my understanding he’d been gone a long time. How did you even know he was here?”
Calvin shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I seen his picture. It was a drawing. On a poster for one of his lectures. Someone sent it to my ma.”
“Who?” Frank asked, perking up.
“Don’t know. Whoever sent it didn’t write no letter or anything. It was just the poster in an envelope addressed to my ma. We could see right off it was him. It was a good likeness, even though they said his name was Edmund Blackwell. Pa was named Edward Brown. Ma said it was like him to change his name to sound more uppity.”
“Or so his family couldn’t locate him,” Frank suggested.
The boy snorted. “Likely he could’ve still called himself Eddie Brown and we couldn’st’ve found him either. How could we? Last we heard he was in Boston. Boston’s a big place. He could hide there forever without us finding him.”
The boy was right. “You could have hired a detective to locate him,” Frank suggested.
“You mean you can pay coppers to find somebody for you?” Calvin asked in amazement.
Frank forgot the boy was from the country. “No, there’s private detectives you can hire to do things like this.”
Calvin looked at him like he was crazy. “And how could we pay somebody to do that? Pa used to send us some money from time to time, but he quit a couple years ago. Must’ve been about the time he come here. Even when he did send money, it was never enough, though. There’s three of us kids. I’ve got two little sisters. Ma had to take in washing to put food on the table. I worked at whatever I could, selling newspapers and chopping firewood and whatever I could find until I got big enough to get steady work. Sometimes we didn’t even have enough to eat, so how could we hire somebody to find Pa?”
“But you had enough money to come to New York from Virginia,” Frank pointed out. “Exactly where do you live there?”
“A place called Lynchburg. I… well, there was something else in the envelope besides the poster. No letter or nothing, like I said, but there was a train ticket.”
“Someone sent you a train ticket to New York?” Frank asked in amazement. This was growing more interesting by the moment.
“Yeah, and… and a little bit of money, too.”
Frank stared at the boy. He’d been lied to by thousands of people in the course of his work, and he liked to think he could spot a lie a mile away. This boy was either telling the truth or he was the best liar Frank had ever encountered. “Sounds like someone wanted you to come to New York and find your father.”
The boy shrugged. “I guess so. Ma, she thought someone was mad at Pa and wanted to get even or something.”
“They must have wanted to get even very badly to go to all that trouble,” Frank suggested. “How did you find your father when you got to the city?”
“I just went to the place where he was going to be, where it said on the poster he was going to be. There was lots of people there. I sat way in the back so he wouldn’t see me, and then he come out on the stage. It was him, all right. I ain’t seen him for almost five years, but I was eleven when he left, so I knew him right off.”
“Did you confront him that night?”
“No. I didn’t want to warn him off. And besides, there was this man who talked that night. He said Dr. Blackwell was married to his daughter. I didn’t think that could be right. He’s married to my ma! I was confused, and I needed to think about things some, so I waited around, after the lecture. I was gonna follow him home, but he got in one of them hansom cabs. I didn’t know they was called that then, but I do now. Anyways, I heard him telling the driver where to take him. Gramercy Park. It was easy to find out where that was. I just asked somebody at the place where I’m staying.”
“And so you called on your father. When was this?”
“I don’t know. About five days ago, I guess.”
“What was his reaction?”
Calvin frowned, his youthful face revealing every emotion. Plainly, he found the memory painful. “I don’t know what I expected, but for certain it wasn’t what happened. He pretended he was real happy to see me. Asked how everybody was doing and all. I thought he’d be mad or maybe act a little guilty, but he didn’t. It was like he’d just forgot all about us, and I’d reminded him. Said he knew he’d been neglecting us, and he wanted to set things right. I thought he meant he’d bring all of us up here to live with him. That’s what he should’ve done, and he’s got plenty of room in this house, don’t he? The reason he left was so he could do better and give us a better life. This was his chance.”
“But he wasn’t going to do that, was he?”
“He said the city wasn’t the right place for us because it was so dangerous. He said we’d be better off to stay in Lynchburg. He was making money now, for the first time, and he’d start supporting us again. He’d even come to visit. But he had to stay here because that’s where his business was.” Calvin’s tone clearly expressed his bitterness.
“What did you say?”
“I said I knew he had another wife now, and what would people think if they found out about us?”
“Did that scare him?”
“It made him real mad. He said if I did anything to hurt him, he wouldn’t be able to make a living anymore, and we’d never get anything from him again. If I kept quiet, he’d send me back with some money, and he’d start sending us money regular again, too.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I didn’t know, but he was real mean. He scared me, like he might do something worse than not support us if I made any trouble for him.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Not right out, but he made it real clear he could make sure I didn’t never get back to Lynchburg if I made trouble.”
“So you didn’t make any trouble,” Frank guessed.
“I told him I wouldn’t. He said to come back in a few days, and he’d have the money for me. I thought maybe if I had some money, I could do something. I didn’t know what, but maybe Ma would know. At least it would make things easier for her if he started supporti
ng us again. So I left.”
“And you didn’t come back again until day before yesterday.”
“Yes, sir. And like I said, nobody answered the door. I thought maybe he had to go out or he forgot I was coming or something, but shouldn’t somebody have answered the door anyway? That snooty fellow was here the other times I come and today. Seems like it’s his job to answer the door.”
“All the servants had the afternoon off that day,” Frank told him. “Apparently, he didn’t want anyone to know you were here or to see you again.”
“No, I guess he wouldn’st,” Calvin said after he thought about it.
“And someone shot him while he was here alone.”
Calvin’s smooth face creased into a puzzled frown. “Then he’s really dead? But why would somebody shoot him?”
Frank leaned back in his chair, ostensibly unconcerned. “Perhaps because he’d deserted his family and then refused to pay the promised sum of money to them.”
“But why-” he started, and then stopped when Frank’s meaning sank in. “You think I shot him? Why would I do a thing like that? He was my father!”
“The father who deserted you and caused your family great hardship while he was living in luxury. The father who took another wife and now refused to acknowledge you.”
Now Calvin was angry. “I might’ve hated him, but he was still my father! And besides, if he was dead, he couldn’t help us none, now could he? Killing him would be stupid!”
“But what if he’d decided not to give you the money he’d promised? What if he told you to go back home and forget about him or some harm would come to all of you? I know that would make me mad enough to shoot somebody.”
“But I didn’t even see him that day! I wasn’t even in the house. And I don’t have a gun, either!”
Frank was inclined to believe him. Calvin didn’t even know Blackwell was killed with his own gun, so the killer wouldn’t have had one. The story about the policeman sending him on his way was easy enough to check, in any case. And his theory about Blackwell refusing to pay the boy seemed farfetched. Blackwell wouldn’t dare take a chance on offending Calvin and having him spread his story. Paying him off was a simple solution to a very complicated problem, one that Blackwell would have been a fool not to accept. Frank didn’t think Blackwell was a fool.
Besides, if Calvin had taken the money and killed his father, he’d be miles away by now, just as Amos Potter had suggested. He certainly wouldn’t have come knocking on the door and drawing attention to himself.
Now the boy was looking really frightened. “Are you gonna put me in jail?”
It would be so easy. The boy was penniless and alone. No one except his mother would care what happened to him, and she was miles away and powerless to help him. Frank could stick the boy in jail, beat him until he confessed, close the case, and collect his reward from Potter and Symington. That’s what most of the detectives on the force would do. Frank had done it a time or two himself, although never with an innocent boy. The people he usually dealt with were criminals, guilty of something or another, even if it wasn’t the crime he was investigating. If they went to jail, they deserved it, and the world was a better place with them behind bars.
But Calvin Brown was guilty of nothing.
“Did you kill your father, Calvin?” he asked.
“No, sir! I already told you.”
“If I don’t arrest you, what will you do?”
His eyes widened. Frank could see the fear and the hope mingled in them. “I… I guess I can’t do nothing much. I’m about out of money, so I’ve got to go back home soon. The ticket was just one way, so I’ll have to hop a freight or something, but I got to get back home to help my ma.” He thought a minute. “I sure would like to find out who killed my pa, though. I kinda feel like it’s my duty or something.”
Frank wanted him to stay, too. He might need to ask him more questions when he found out more about the case. And he did need to know who had sent the poster to Mrs. Brown. Someone, it seemed, was trying to cause Dr. Blackwell trouble. If he could find out who, he’d be a lot closer to finding the killer.
“If I pay your rent for another week, would you stay in town?” Frank asked. A few dollars was cheap enough for the help the boy might be able to give him. Besides, he wanted the boy close so he could keep an eye on him. “If you do, I’ll even buy you a ticket back home when you’re ready to leave.”
Now the boy was thoroughly confused. “You ain’t gonna arrest me?”
“I don’t think you killed your father, Calvin, but you may be able to help me find out who did.”
“How?”
“You can start by showing me the poster that was sent to your mother, if you still have it.”
“I do. I even have the envelope, but it won’t help you none.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Let’s go to your lodging house. I’ll take care of your rent while we’re there.” The boy might be innocent, but Frank didn’t trust him not to run if he had the means, so he wasn’t going to give him money directly.
They went out into the hall to find Amos Potter waiting on a bench in the entrance hall. He jumped to his feet.
“Where are you taking him?” Potter demanded. “Are you arresting him?”
“Not yet, Mr. Potter,” Frank said, noticing the boy’s alarm.
“Why not?” Potter was outraged. “You know he’s the one who killed Edmund! He’s the only one who had a reason.”
“I don’t think we can be sure of that. But don’t worry, Mr. Potter, Calvin will be in safekeeping in the meantime. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have business to attend to.”
Plainly unhappy, Potter reluctantly stepped aside and allowed them to leave. Frank was sure he’d have a few choice words to say later about the way Frank was handling the case, but he’d worry about that when it happened.
WHEN SARAH CAME downstairs after checking on her patients, she was furious to discover that Malloy had left with the boy. She’d intended to comer the detective and demand an account of what he’d learned. Now she’d have to find out later.
She collected her things, and Granger asked if he should summon the carriage for her.
“That won’t be necessary. It’s a lovely day, and I’d prefer to walk. I’ll be back in the morning to see how the baby is doing,” she told him.
“That wouldn’t be a convenient time,” Granger told her. “Dr. Blackwell’s funeral is being held here at ten o’ clock.”
Why hadn’t she expected this? Now she’d be sure to be here tomorrow. She wouldn’t miss Blackwell’s funeral for anything. “Thank you, Granger,” she said, not telling him of her plans.
On the way home, Sarah mulled over the things she had learned from Amos Potter. She would have to share this information with Malloy, although she thought he probably knew most of it already. What he might not know was the difference in the versions of the truth that she had heard today. Potter insisted that Letitia had been happy to speak at Blackwell’s lectures, and Sarah knew that Letitia had hated it so much she’d needed to use morphine just to get through them.
Did Potter know her true feelings? Was he trying to protect her, or did he honestly believe she was that devoted to her husband? Fortunately, it wasn’t her job to find the answers. She could simply collect observations and pass them along to Malloy. He hadn’t wanted her involved in this case, but here she was, in up to her eyebrows just the same. She hoped he’d be grateful for her help after all, but if he wasn’st, it didn’t matter. She was going to help him anyway.
A quarter of an hour later she reached Bank Street, and as she strolled toward her front steps, she saw her elderly next-door neighbor, Mrs. Ellsworth, come out with her broom and begin to sweep.
No dirt ever had a chance to collect on Mrs. Ellsworth’s front steps because she was out there ten times a day sweeping. She used this activity as an excuse to encounter everyone who passed by. Sarah wondered when she had a chance to do her inside housework since she
always seemed to be watching out her front window for any activity that required her attention in the neighborhood.
“Hello, Mrs. Brandt!” she called cheerfully.
“How are you today, Mrs. Ellsworth?” Sarah replied. Since Mrs. Ellsworth had once saved her life, Sarah would indulge her whenever she could.
“Oh, I’m feeling quite cheerful, Mrs. Brandt. My apron fell off this morning, and that gave me quite a laugh.”
This didn’t seem particularly funny to Sarah, but she knew Mrs. Ellsworth well enough to know there must be some hidden meaning in the event. Mrs. Ellsworth found hidden meaning in just about everything that happened. “And why did you find this so funny?”
“Because when an apron falls off, it means the wearer is going to have a baby within the year!”
Even Sarah had to laugh at this, too. Mrs. Ellsworth was in no danger of having a baby this or any year. “Perhaps someone is going to leave one on your door-step,” she suggested.
“Wouldn’t that be something?” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “I don’t think I’d even remember what to do with a baby, it’s been so long. It’s a nice thought, though.”
“Or maybe it means you’re going to be a grand-mother,” Sarah said, teasing her. “Has your son been keeping company with anyone special lately?”
“Lord, no,” Mrs. Ellsworth said. “All Nelson does is work at the bank, day and night. I tell him it’s making him old before his time, but does he listen? Of course not. He tells me he needs to get ahead. I tell him he needs to get a wife. I want some grandchildren to spoil before I die.”
“I don’t blame you. But sooner or later he’ll meet a nice girl and fall in love. Don’t give up hope.”
“And where have you been this lovely day? Delivering someone else’s grandchild?”
“No, I was just visiting one of my patients who…” Suddenly Sarah realized Mrs. Ellsworth might know the deceased. She was always following the latest in medical cures. “Have you ever heard of Dr. Edmund Blackwell?”
“Blackwell? Yes, indeed. He’s getting quite famous. I went to one of his lectures. Nelson always tells me I’m a fool for believing these charlatans, but how do you know that one of them might not have really discovered something that will help cure people?”
Murder On GramercyPark Page 8
