Murder on St. Nicholas Avenue

by Victoria Thompson

  “Yeah, Mr. Decker said she was mostly worried about the damaged chairs.”

  “Which is why she couldn’t possibly have known about it. And because she didn’t know about the money, she’s not wondering where it went or looking for it. Instead she decided she’d ask the richest man she knows for help.”

  That made sense, except she wasn’t getting the richest man she knew. She was getting Gino. “Why did you decide to come with me tonight?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  Ah, so Maeve didn’t want to answer that question, which made Gino think he’d like her answer very much. “You know what I mean. Mrs. Decker said I should go and find out what she wants. You didn’t need to come.”

  “I just wanted to hear for myself what she has to say.”

  “I would’ve told you tomorrow.”

  She sighed in the darkness. “I thought you might need a chaperone.”

  “You think I’m in danger from the lovely widow?” he asked in feigned amazement. “She can’t be interested in me. I don’t even have a job.”

  “She doesn’t know that. For all she knows, you’re still working for the police.”

  “Oh, and she’ll think maybe I can do something for her.”

  “I don’t know what she thinks, but I told you, girls like that use people. Even Mrs. Malloy told me she’s a sly one.”

  “Mrs. Malloy thinks everybody is a sly one.”

  “In Una’s case, she’s right.”

  Gino thought this over and decided he liked her reasoning just fine. “Thank you for coming along to protect me, Miss Smith.”

  This earned him a swat on the arm, which made him grin much more broadly than he would have dared if it hadn’t been so dark in the carriage.

  * * *

  Maeve couldn’t believe how many reporters were standing on the sidewalk outside the Pollock house. “Don’t they get cold?” she asked as the carriage pulled to a stop across the street.

  “They’re used to it, I guess. It’s what they do.”

  “But it’s so late. I thought they’d be gone by now.”

  “They’re hoping something will happen, like one of the richest men in town driving up in his fancy carriage to pay the widow a visit.”

  “Oh, that would make a good story for the front page. No wonder Mr. Decker didn’t want to come.”

  “They’ll probably find out this is his carriage, so I guess I need to make sure they see my face and know I’m not him.”

  “How would they find out it’s his carriage?”

  Gino sighed. “You don’t have much experience with newspaper reporters, do you? As soon as they realize we’re here to see Mrs. Pollock, they’ll be climbing up to bribe the coachman, and if that fails, they’ll probably follow us home.”

  “I don’t want them coming to the Malloy house!”

  “Then we need to tell the coachman to let himself be bribed.” Gino reached up and knocked on the roof to let the driver know they were ready to get out.

  “Don’t forget your hat,” Maeve said, shoving the top hat into his hands.

  He settled it on his head. “This is a really nice coat. I think I’ll get one like it.”

  Maeve snorted at the thought. They both knew the coat cost a small fortune. The Deckers had given them Mr. Decker’s overcoat and hat and one of Mrs. Decker’s coats and a fur muff to wear. They didn’t care about fooling the reporters, but they were afraid Una wouldn’t open the door if she knew who her visitors really were.

  The carriage sagged as the coachman climbed down from his perch, then bounced back before the door swung open.

  “You’ve had a busy day today, John,” Gino said to him as he adjusted his hat as low over his eyes as he could, and pulled his scarf up over his chin.

  “These past few days is the most excitement I’ve had in a long time,” the driver replied, reaching up to help Gino out.

  “They’re going to offer you money to tell them who the coach belongs to, so go ahead and take it. Just don’t tell them the truth. Tell them who I really am so Mr. Decker’s name doesn’t end up in the newspapers.”

  “I’ll do that,” he replied with a grin.

  “Wait until I signal you,” Gino said over his shoulder, making Maeve groan. Did he think she’d forget?

  Gino hesitated a moment, probably gathering his courage, then started across the street toward the mob of reporters who had been watching their arrival with great interest to see if they would turn into a possible story.

  As soon as they realized Gino was heading toward them—and consequently toward the Pollock house—they all started shouting at once and surging at him. He ducked his head and barreled forward, shouldering the bolder ones aside when necessary. Maeve hoped she didn’t have to fight her way through like that. She wasn’t nearly as big as Gino.

  The driver still stood holding the door open and ready to hand her out when the time came. “I’ll come get you if they get too rough,” he whispered.

  “Thanks.”

  The gaslight from the streetlamps cast too many shadows to see exactly what was happening, but someone in a top hat had reached the top of the front steps and pounded on the front door. It opened immediately, so Una had obviously been watching.

  “Now,” the driver said, taking her arm.

  Maeve hopped out, snatched up her skirts, and ran across the street before the reporters realized she had even been in the coach. They were all looking up to where the man in the expensive overcoat and top hat stood before the open front door. He’d turned to look down at them, or so they thought. He was really looking to see where she was.

  She managed to worm her way through to the bottom of the steps, earning some grunts of displeasure but no real notice until she started up the steps.

  “Hey, who’s that?” someone yelled.

  Maeve didn’t look back. Someone tried to grab her arm, but she shook them off, and then she was clear and Gino reached out his hand. She took it and he pulled her inside.

  Hattie slammed the door on the surge of outraged reporters determined to find out who had just outsmarted them. Their furious roar made Maeve wince.

  “Are you all right?” Gino asked.

  “I’m fine.” She shook out her skirts and looked up to see Una Pollock standing in the parlor doorway. If the reporters had been furious, Una was enraged.

  “What are you doing here, and where is Mr. Decker?” she demanded.

  Gino swept off his tall hat and sketched her a little bow. “He couldn’t come, so he sent us.”

  Una gave a howl of rage, turned on her heel, and disappeared back into the parlor, slamming the door behind her.

  “She’s been upset,” Hattie said by way of apology. The poor woman looked like she hadn’t slept much since Maeve had last seen her.

  “I’m sure,” Maeve said. “It must be hard with those reporters out there all the time.”

  “We can’t even go out to get food,” Hattie said.

  “I’ll tell Mrs. Decker. She’ll make sure you get some provisions,” Maeve said, removing Mrs. Decker’s coat and handing it to Hattie.

  Gino handed her his coat and hat, too, then eyed the parlor door warily. “Should we try to talk to her?”

  “I don’t think we have much choice if we want to find out why she needs help. Or is it just the food?” she asked Hattie.

  “I don’t know, miss. She got real upset this morning. She was screaming at poor Eddie something awful. Then she made me go out to send Mr. Decker the telegram. I had to walk for blocks, but they were still following me. I finally got on the El. They got on behind me, so I waited until it was starting to leave and then I jumped out. I could hear them shouting when the train pulled out, but I got away.”

  “Oh, Hattie, that was very clever,” Maeve said.

  “I don’t know about
that,” she said with a sigh. “I was thinking how easy it would be to just keep going and never come back here, like Jane did.”

  “Jane? Did she leave?”

  “Oh yes, miss. She left yesterday morning. Even before Mrs. Pollock come home. She must’ve packed up all her things and hid them out back somewhere when nobody was looking. I sent her out to the market that morning, and she never come back. We checked her room and it’s cleaned out. But I couldn’t leave Velvet and Eddie here alone, so after I sent the telegram, I come back. I was starting to think nobody got the message, though.”

  “The Deckers were out all afternoon, so they didn’t see it until late,” Maeve said, stretching the truth a bit. She looked at the parlor door again. “Do we dare go in there?”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake.” Gino strode over to the door like he was going to throw it open, but to Maeve’s amusement, he stopped and knocked softly instead. “Mrs. Pollock? We’re here to help you.”

  Apparently, she didn’t reply. He looked back to Maeve, shrugged, and opened the door. Maeve didn’t think she would’ve been that brave. He did hesitate a moment, in case a vase came crashing, but when nothing happened, he pushed the door wider and stepped in.

  Emboldened, Maeve followed. He stopped a few steps in, and Maeve came up beside him. Una Pollock sat in a chair on the other end of the room, by the gas fire, glaring at them. She wore a dark blue skirt and bodice that Maeve remembered from packing up her clothes. It fit her perfectly and made her eyes look even bluer than they usually did. She was giving them a look that could have drawn blood.

  Gino didn’t seem to notice. “Mr. Decker asked us to call on you to see what you needed, Mrs. Pollock. He told us to help you with whatever it is.”

  She looked them over as if she were examining something she’d stepped in on the street. “And exactly what can you do to help me?”

  “Anything Mr. Decker can.”

  She sniffed in derision. “And what about your little doxy? Why is she here?”

  Maeve saw a little twitch in his cheek, as if he wanted to smile at that, but he said, “She’s here in case you need a woman to confide in.”

  Una stared at them for another moment, then to Maeve’s surprise, she covered her face with both hands and began to sob. Gino glanced down at Maeve, horrified and obviously helpless. Muttering an imprecation on the Deckers for sending her here, she called out, “Hattie, bring Mrs. Pollock some tea, please.” Then she glanced around for a cabinet that looked like it might contain liquor. She had to open a few doors before she located the proper one. The selection was modest, but she settled on brandy and poured some into a glass she found there.

  Una was really working herself into a state by the time Maeve reached her. “Here, drink this.”

  Una either ignored her or was simply too upset to care. Maeve grabbed one of Una’s wrists with her free hand and yanked it away. Shocked into momentary silence, Una stared up at her stupidly.

  “Drink this,” Maeve repeated, pressing it to her lips. Una obeyed, taking a sip that promptly started her choking. When she was finished, Maeve made her drink some more. After a couple small sips, she pushed the glass away and glared up at Maeve with renewed hatred.

  Maeve returned the favor, furious that Una Pollock even looked pretty when she cried. Her long eyelashes were spiked and the color in her cheeks was rosy. Maeve wanted to dash what was left of the brandy in her face. Instead, she said, “Now tell us what all the fuss is about.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, still glaring.

  “Hattie told us you were screaming at Eddie, and you’ve been upset all day.”

  “Wouldn’t you be? Do you know what’s going on outside my house?”

  “Of course we do. We just fought our way through because you asked for help.”

  “We can’t go outside. We can’t have visitors. No one wants to be interrogated by those jackals outside.”

  “You might as well get used to it, because they’ll be there every day until the trial.”

  Una’s dismay heartened Maeve a little, but then she looked like she might start crying again, so Maeve got angry all over again.

  “Just tell us what you wanted Mr. Decker to do for you.”

  Una’s gaze darted over to where Gino had been standing, and when Maeve looked, she saw he’d slipped out, the sniveling coward. If Una had thought to use her wiles on him, she’d missed her chance, at least for the moment.

  Maeve watched Una’s face as she considered her options. Whatever she’d intended to ask Felix Decker must have depended on using her feminine charms because she obviously had no intention of asking it of Maeve. After a minute or two of deliberation, Una stuck out her chin and said, “I want to see my mother.”

  “Your mother?” This was the last thing Maeve had expected to hear.

  “Yes, I . . . I miss her. She was so kind to me when I was arrested. She got me an attorney and paid my bond so I could get out of that horrible jail. I need to see her to . . . to thank her. And I just need her support right now. She’s the only family I have left.”

  She managed to end this little speech on a sob, and she pulled a lacy handkerchief from her sleeve to dab her now-dry eyes.

  “And this is why you sent for Mr. Decker?”

  “Of course.”

  There was no “of course” about it, in Maeve’s mind. If she just wanted her mother, why didn’t she send the telegram to Mrs. O’Neill instead of Felix Decker?

  * * *

  Gino took one look at Una Pollock sobbing and decided he needed to check on poor Eddie. Eddie might also be sobbing if Una had yelled at him, but Gino was pretty sure he could deal with that. He knew very well where the kitchen was, so he found the stairs and hurried down them. Maeve, he was sure, could handle Una all by herself.

  He found the three remaining servants in the kitchen. Velvet was preparing a tea tray while Hattie waited impatiently. Eddie sat at the kitchen table looking like his best friend had just shot his dog. His eyes were swollen from crying, but he didn’t seem to be crying now, thank heaven.

  “How are you folks doing?” he asked with as much cheer as he could muster.

  “Oh, Officer, I don’t know what’s going to become of us,” Hattie said. “Those reporters is going to hound us from now on. That’s what they said when they was following me today. They said I might as well tell them what they want to know because they’ll find it out some other way if I didn’t. They said they’d pay me, too. Can you imagine? They’d pay me money to talk about Mr. and Mrs. Pollock!”

  “I’m glad somebody’s willing to pay us money,” Velvet said to no one in particular, reminding Gino that Mrs. Decker had promised them their wages. He knew only too well that Una Pollock had no way to pay them. Maybe she’d already figured that out and that’s why she’d sent for Mr. Decker.

  “As soon as we find out who killed Mr. Pollock, this will all be over,” he said.

  Eddie groaned as if he were in pain. Hattie scurried over to comfort him. “There now, chile. Don’t you be fretting yourself.”

  He obviously didn’t take any comfort from these words, because he put his head down on his arms and started sobbing.

  “He’s been like this all day,” Velvet said. “The missus lit into him something fierce this morning, and his poor heart is broke. He thinks the world of her, you see.”

  Hattie was patting him on the back, but that only seemed to make it worse. Gino figured talking about it wasn’t the right thing to do, what with Eddie sitting right there and everything. “What’s this about Jane leaving?” he tried by way of changing the subject.

  “Oh, she just up and left. Hattie sent her to the market but she never come back,” Velvet said.

  “I guess she wanted to get away from the reporters.”

  “Oh, she left before they got here. She left before the mis
sus come home, even.”

  “Where would she go without a reference?” Gino asked. He didn’t mention the part about her back pay since he didn’t want to remind them of it.

  “That girl was up to something,” Hattie said. “I caught her writing a letter.”

  “A letter?” Velvet scoffed. “She don’t got no family that I know of. Who’d she be writing a letter to?”

  “That’s what I was wondering, but she got real uppity when I asked and wouldn’t say.”

  “When was this?” Gino asked.

  “When she was writing the letter, you mean?” Hattie asked.

  “Yes. When did she write it? Before or after Mr. Pollock died?”

  “After, for sure. She wouldn’t write no letters if Mrs. Pollock was in the house. The next day, I think.”

  “Oh, I remember now,” Velvet said. “She was acting all funny. Said she had to go out to get something, but I put a stop to that. I bet she wanted to mail her letter.”

  Gino noticed Eddie had stopped sobbing to listen. He’d raised his head and was scrubbing at his face with his sleeve. “She give it to me.”

  “Give what to you, honey?” Hattie asked.

  “The letter. She give it to me to mail.”

  “What’d she do for a stamp?” Gino asked.

  “You don’t need no stamp. The person what gets it will pay, if they want the letter,” Eddie said. “That’s what she told me.”

  “Who was it addressed to?” Gino asked, wondering if he’d found the answer to one of their many questions.

  Eddie looked away and shrugged. “Didn’t notice.”

  Velvet touched Gino’s sleeve to get his attention and mouthed, “He can’t read much.”

  Gino nodded. “Do you have any idea where Jane might’ve gone? You said she didn’t have any family, but did she have friends?”

  “Nobody that would take her in, I don’t think,” Hattie said. “Maybe she heard about another job and went to try for it.”