Oh Danny Boy

by Rhys Bowen

A new and disturbing thought crept into my head: get rid of it. I had heard rumors of women who knew how to work that miracle, but also of girls who had died in the process. Did I want to take that chance? Sid and Gus were more worldly than I, and they had a large and varied acquaintanceship. They might know whom to ask. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I couldn’t tell Sid and Gus, at least not yet. Not until I had become used to the idea myself. And what about Daniel? I thought and felt myself flushing with embarrassment at the thought of facing him. Shouldn’t he know? Didn’t he have a right to know? In any case, I certainly couldn’t tell him at this moment. He already had enough worries on his plate.

  So the plain truth was that I couldn’t tell anyone. It had to remain my secret.

  Well, there was no point in standing here, drowning in self-pity. Daniel Sullivan would certainly be no use to me locked in a jail cell. The most sensible course of action right now would be to do what I had been asked and put my own worries on hold until it was done. Hopefully Jack Brady would have returned and read my note. He might even have positive news. I didn’t feel like going out again, but I had to do it. Better than being here alone and brooding, in any case.

  I made myself a cup of tea and a piece of bread and jam, before setting off for Chelsea. Mrs. O’Shea was home, cooking her husband’s dinner. Smells of stew coming from the kitchen nearly had a disastrous effect on my stomach.

  She hadn’t seen the gentleman all day, she said. And she’d been home most of the day. She had been making her sister a nourishing soup with calves’ feet and veal bones. The poor dear was fair worn-out, up all night with the new infant and then taking care of all those lively youngsters all day. She was planning to sleep over there tonight so that her sister could get some rest.

  I took the key and fled up the stairs before the smell of that stewing meat made me lose the bread and jam I had just eaten. The apartment was untouched from this morning. Jack had not been back. I sat at Daniel’s table and tried to digest this fact. My one ally had gone. He might just be hiding out at a new address and would return to Daniel’s as soon as he was able. On the other hand, he might have gone for good. In any case, I couldn’t count on his help any longer. I sank my head into my arms and just sat there for a while. Jack Brady might not have been overly endowed with brains, but he had been willing and kind and large enough to be my protector if necessary. Now I had nobody. I had no idea what I was going to do next.

  I stared hopelessly at the polished mahogany of Daniel’s desk while I tried to calm my racing thoughts. I was strong. I had always been strong. I could get through this somehow. Obviously the first thing to do was to find out what had happened to Jack Brady. But that would mean going to the Eastmans, and I didn’t know whether I was brave enough to do that. If Jack had met a bad end by visiting Monk Eastman, then I’d be walking into a lion’s den. I needed all the details that Daniel could give me before I blundered into gangland. I took a piece of paper from his desk and wrote to him. “I need details if I’m to help you, Daniel,” I wrote. “Where and when this passing of the bribe took place. The name of the gang member who handed you the letter. Exactly how the scene transpired. Who was with the commissioner when you were arrested? Did he say anything that gave you any hint he had been summoned to witness your meeting with a gang member?”

  Then I added, “Are there no fellow officers who were your friends and can still be trusted? I can’t believe that everyone on the force wishes this fate on you. I can’t do this on my own, Daniel.”

  Then I put the letter in an envelope and sealed it. It was a strange sensation writing his name on the outside, and I felt those dratted tears well up in my eyes again.

  I wrote another note for Jack, giving him my address and telling him how to find it. “Come and see me as soon as you read this,” I wrote. “I am most concerned about your safety.”

  Then I propped it on the table where he couldn’t miss it. But I found that I couldn’t leave. He’ll be back later, I told myself. He’s waiting until it’s dark so that he’s not so conspicuous. I went into the kitchen and noted that Mrs. O’Shea had brought eggs, as well as a bowl of that broth she had made for her sister. I could stay and make Jack an omelet when he returned. Looking at the food made me feel peckish myself so I had some of that broth, plus a boiled egg and some bread cut into soldiers to go with it. It was strangely comforting to be sitting at the table, dipping fingers of bread into egg yolk, as if I was a small child again.

  But I finished the egg, washed up, and still he didn’t come. Daylight started to fade, and reluctantly I decided that I would have to leave. Chelsea was one of the safer parts of the city and Twenty-third was a major street, but no woman was out alone after dark by choice.

  A shrill ringing made my heart almost leap out of my mouth. It was coming from the wall in the corner. For a moment I thought it was an electric doorbell, then I saw the telephone hanging there. I had forgotten until now that Daniel owned a telephone, not being used to such a contraption myself. I stood there staring at it while it continued to ring. Should I answer it? What if it was Gentleman Jack, attempting to make contact? I took a deep breath and lifted the receiver with a shaky hand.

  “Hello?” I said.

  “Have I been given the wrong number?” a brisk woman’s voice demanded. I detected a trace of an Irish accent. “It’s Captain Sullivan’s residence I’m wanting.”

  “I’m afraid Captain Sullivan isn’t here at the moment,” I said. “Who is this, please?”

  “His mother, of course. More to the point, who are you?”

  “I’m—just the maid, cleaning his apartment,” I said hastily.

  “He lets his maids take important telephone calls, does he?” she said. “You want to watch out that you don’t get yourself into trouble, young woman. Please pass on a message to Captain Sullivan that he should call his mother.”

  “It’s not bad news about his father, is it?” I blurted out before I realized this wasn’t probably wise.

  “Oh, I see that he keeps you informed of his private life, too,” she said, and I could detect the disapproval.

  “Only that he’s been concerned about his father, ma’am. He keeps his landlady informed, and she passes it along to me.”

  “His father seems to be on the mend, thank the Lord,” she said. “No, this is another matter altogether.”

  “I could take a message for him,” I said hopefully.

  “That won’t be necessary. Just tell him that his mother is expecting his call,” she said. That was clearly all I was going to get out of her. It probably wasn’t really important, I decided, just a mother wanting to stay in touch with her only son.

  “I’ll write him a note that you called, Mrs. Sullivan,” I said. “He’s been working all hours on a case.”

  “They work him too hard,” she said. “Thank you then, Miss—?”

  She wanted my name, of course. “You’re most welcome,” I said, and hung up the phone. I wondered if she had heard about me when Daniel broke off his engagement, whether she actually suspected who I was and was voicing her disapproval. I didn’t seem to have too many people on my side at the moment!

  As I walked down the stairs I cursed myself for being so stupid—of course I should have remembered he had a phone. He’d given me the number before. But I still wasn’t used to such modern conveniences, and it hadn’t entered my head to call his address. I could have saved myself another long and hot trip, except that Jack probably wouldn’t have answered it, even if he had been there. I wondered where he was, whether he was in hiding or in danger or both.

  It had been a long, emotionally draining day and I was never more glad to get home. I had scarcely let myself in and collapsed in my one tattered armchair when there came a loud rapping at the door.

  Let it be Jack come to find me. Please, no more bad news, I prayed. I had received enough for a lifetime’s supply in the last two days. I opened the door and was relieved to find Sid standing there.
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  “Thank heavens, you’re home,” she said, coming in without being invited. “Gus was worried about you, Molly. She knocked on your door several times today to thank you for the dinner last night, but you were never home. She was convinced that you had gone against your word and met a terrible fate with the East Side Ripper.”

  I managed a bright smile and light tone as I replied, “Nothing could be further from the truth. I’ve had a pleasant jaunt in the countryside. I took the train to Westchester County.”

  “To see Bridie?” Her face lit up. “Wonderful. How is she faring?”

  “Not to see Bridie, I’m afraid. Her camp is somewhere in the wilds of Connecticut. No, I decided to pay a visit to Miss Norton.”

  “Molly! What on earth for? That was either brave or foolhardy of you.” She looked more amused than horrified. “I’m amazed you’ve returned unscathed. I should have thought she was the last person on earth you’d want to confront at this moment.”

  “That’s true. It wasn’t the most pleasant of encounters. But I needed to know if she or her family had anything to do with Daniel’s arrest.”

  Sid frowned, then nodded. “Oh yes, I see. You suspected that she may have wanted to bring about his downfall out of spite. From what you’ve told us, she definitely had that in her character. And what did you discover?”

  “Not much. I am fairly sure that she herself had nothing to do with getting Daniel arrested. She looked quite shaken when I told her about it. But of course, her father or a relative could have taken the matter into his own hands, unbeknownst to her, and set out to teach Daniel a lesson.”

  “How would you find that out?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. The truth is, Sid, that I’m very much an amateur when it comes to detective work. I seem to stumble upon things more by luck than by skill. If only Paddy Riley hadn’t been killed, I might have learned true detective skills; but as it is, I just have to muddle through.”

  “So what will you do now?” she asked.

  I had to take a deep breath before I said, “I don’t know. I just don’t know. But I can’t give up for Daniel’s sake. I’ve just written to him again, asking for all the details he can give me. Then I’ll proceed from there.”

  “He can’t be much of a gentleman if he gives you details of gangland transactions and expects you to investigate them,” Sid snapped. “You’re well rid of him, Molly. It was pure infatuation on your part. Put it behind you.”

  “I gave him my word, Sid,” I managed to say, sounding miraculously calm. “I’m going to do what I can.”

  “All this rushing around in the heat isn’t good for you,” she said, frowning as she examined me. “You look quite flushed. I hope you haven’t yet dined. We were waiting for you to dine with us tonight and you can be the first to hear our big news.”

  “Big news?” My heart leaped alarmingly.

  Her face lit up. “Well, I suppose I shouldn’t keep you in suspense. That’s not fair, is it? You know that Gus and I have been experimenting with various Eastern lifestyles—”

  They’re moving to China or Japan, I thought in panic.

  “—Well, we’ve finally made up our minds. We are going to take up Buddhism. From now on every living creature will be sacred to us, and we shall eat no more fish, fowl, or flesh. So Gus has prepared our first vegetarian meal tonight, and we want you to partake of it with us.”

  I was so relieved I could have wept. “I’d be delighted,” I said.

  As soon as she had gone, I leaned against the cool wood of the front door, limp with relief. I hadn’t realized until now how much I had come to rely on them. They were my only friends in the world. Without them I’d have nobody.

  “So tell them the truth,” I muttered to myself, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t force myself to say those words out loud to another living soul because by saying them out loud, I’d make them real.

  And now Sid had made me feel guilty about not visiting Bridie. Of course I should have done so. I was the closest to a mother that those children had, and I had become remarkably fond of them. Even as those thoughts passed through my head, another idea sneaked in to join them. I could always marry Seamus. I could never love him but he was a good man, and I already loved his children. They’d like nothing better than to have me as their mother.

  “Rubbish,” I said out loud, and dismissed the idea as quickly as it had come. I might be desperate, but I still had my pride. I wasn’t marrying anyone for convenience.

  TEN

  Next morning I woke after a good night’s sleep. The temperature outside had fallen during the night and sweet, cool breezes wafted in through my open bedroom window. I got up and stood at the window, savoring the cool air on my body through the thin cotton of my nightgown, listening to the sweet chittering of early morning birdsong. I felt refreshed and full of energy. Maybe I had panicked for nothing yesterday, I told myself. Maybe I wasn’t in the family way after all. I hadn’t always been regular in my monthly cycles, and they did say that shock could delay things. Fighting for my life in the Hudson River would certainly count as shock, wouldn’t it?

  I even felt hungry. That may have been due to the vegetarian dinner I had been served last night. To tell the truth, I had found it hard to swallow the strange concoction of nuts and greens that Gus had prepared, and I had ended up hiding most of it under a lettuce leaf on my plate. I went downstairs and ate a hearty breakfast, after which I found that my brain was less muddled than yesterday and I was able to think clearly. So I got out my pad and started jotting down notes. What did Paddy always say when attacking a new case? Start with the obvious, that’s what he said. Go right to the source, don’t skirt around it. That meant I should start with the person who’d put Daniel in jail—with the commissioner of police himself, Mr. John Partridge.

  And just how was I going to get an appointment to see him? On what pretext? I couldn’t imagine that he’d welcome me as myself. If I appeared to plead on Daniel’s behalf, I might even harm his case. God forbid, he might even suspect I was some kind of gangster’s moll. No, this would take some thought and some subterfuge. I got up and paced around the room. A lady reporter come to interview him about his new appointment? Not at all a guaranteed entry. He might well despise them as a breed. A cause—I needed a cause. The commissioner had apparently arrested Daniel because he wanted to wipe out corruption in the Police Department. Very well, I’d be a member of the Ladies Decency League, come to congratulate him on his efforts. It was a risky undertaking. I had no idea if there really was a Ladies Decency League and whether Mr. John Patridge was already well acquainted with them. If he’d thrown the book at Daniel for accepting a bribe, he might well have me arrested for approaching him under false pretences.

  “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I said, more bravely than I felt.

  I put on my one respectable business suit. It was too warm for the current weather but it looked efficient. Then I pulled my hair back severely from my face and hid it under a straw boater. The result was not flattering but had the desired effect.

  “Better get it over with,” I said to the severe young woman in the looking glass and headed out of the door without looking back. I wasn’t sure where the commissioner of police was to be found, but I was certain most of the bigwigs had offices in City Hall. He’d either be there or at police headquarters on Mulberry Street. Either way, the folks there would be able to tell me where I could find him.

  When I reached the post office on Broadway, I paid the ten cents at the public phone booth and had the operator put in a call to Daniel’s number. It rang and rang.

  “There is no answer, caller,” the operator said, and the line went dead. I hadn’t really expected one. I couldn’t picture Jack picking up Daniel’s telephone, even if he had returned during the night. He’d probably think it too risky to reveal his presence. I was tempted to check in person, but I couldn’t spend my entire life going up and down Sixth Avenue on the off chance that he’d come back. He did have m
y address. He could come looking for me. And I was conscious that time was of the essence. Every day that Daniel remained in jail might put his life in jeopardy.

  As I went up the marble steps to that imposing building with its gleaming marble façade and Greek columns, my nerve almost failed me. Molly Murphy, until recently an Irish peasant, was about to worm information out of one of the most powerful men in the city. Men didn’t rise to the top in New York City without a certain degree of ruthlessness. If he was as straight and honorable as he claimed to be, then he wouldn’t take kindly to my extracting information under false pretences. And if he was the usual sort of New York politician, he wouldn’t want me poking into his crooked schemes.

  “You have no choice,” I told myself firmly and forced one foot in front of the other. There was a young man sitting at a reception desk. He eyed me flirtatiously. I gave him my Queen Victoria stare and told him I was on a most important errand from the Ladies Decency League. His manner changed right away and soon I was heading up a flight of steps to the second floor.

  Mr. Partridge had a female secretary who looked even more dowdy and severe than I did. I couldn’t possibly speak to the commissioner without an appointment, she said.

  “Oh, but I know he’d want to meet with a representative of his staunchest supporters,” I said. “The Ladies Decency League is backed by the most influential women in the city. Why only last week Mrs. Astor held a meeting at her mansion on Fifth Avenue.” I shut up at that point before I let this ridiculous blarney go too far. But it seemed to have worked because the woman rose to her feet. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said. “He may just have a minute before his meeting with the mayor.”

  She returned with a gracious smile on her lips. “The commissioner would be delighted to see you, Miss—?”

  “Delaney,” I said, uttering the first name that came into my head.

  “Miss Delaney to see you, sir,” the secretary said, and I was ushered into a most impressive office, complete with a polished mahogany desk big enough to skate on, and walls decorated with citations and photographs of the commissioner shaking hands with President Teddy Roosevelt and President McKinley before him.