“He claims he wants to see the killer punished no matter who it is.”
“But we know he might change his mind when he finds out who it is.”
Malloy frowned. “I don’t know. I got the feeling he’s angry enough that he doesn’t really care. Of course, he doesn’t really believe it could be a family member, but he’s willing to throw any of the servants to the wolves, I think.”
“And you told him you’d have to question all of them?”
“Oh yes, but he asked me to wait until after the funeral.”
“Of course. They’ll be too busy until then anyway. Did you tell him we’ll be at the funeral?”
“Yes, and he seemed glad of it. I’ve been thinking since then, though, that maybe Gino should go, too.”
“Gino? You mean he should go with us?”
“No, separately, so we can have an extra pair of eyes watching the mourners.”
“Won’t that look odd? He’ll stick out in that crowd, and people will know he doesn’t belong.”
“I was thinking Maeve could go with him. A couple wouldn’t attract as much attention.”
“Unless no one has ever seen them before, which they wouldn’t have, and wondered who they were.”
“They could make up a story. Maeve can think of one, I’m sure.”
“What can I think of?” Maeve asked, wandering into the kitchen as if it were an accident, although Sarah figured she’d probably been waiting in the front room for the proper moment to intrude.
Malloy grinned at her. “A story as to why you and Gino Donatelli would be attending Charles Oakes’s funeral tomorrow.”
She wrinkled her nose as she considered. “Didn’t he have a job at the Asylum?”
“Yes, he was the superintendent. How did you know that?”
“Gino told me. We could say we worked there and we’re paying our respects, if anyone asks. But I’ll bet no one will ask. Sometimes if you’ve got a good enough story, you’re so confident that no one even challenges you.”
“And society people are so polite, they might consider it rude to question someone’s presence at a funeral,” Sarah added.
“Unless we look like we just came for the free meal,” Maeve said with a grin.
“So you’re willing to go?” Malloy asked her.
“Of course. Who will watch Catherine, though?”
“I’ll ask Mrs. Ellsworth,” Sarah said. Her next-door neighbor was always willing to have Catherine over for a visit.
“It’s settled then,” Frank said. “Gino is meeting me at my house in the morning. We’ll come over here and talk about what we’re going to be watching for.”
• • •
The crowd at the Oakes home was smaller than Frank had expected. He remembered Gino’s question about whether the Oakes family had ever really accepted Jenny and wondered if the cream of New York society had ever accepted her either. Certainly, the number of well-dressed, middle-aged society people was much smaller than Frank had seen at similar funerals. A few younger men, probably Charles’s friends, and their wives clustered here and there. What surprised Frank most, however, were the three men who came together. They brought no wives, and they didn’t offer condolences to the family, and they gave the body of the deceased, on display in the parlor, barely a glance. Bullet-headed thugs, they wore expensive suits, but not well. Frank understood that because he didn’t wear his well either. A man had to be born to wealth and grow up with its comforts to feel truly at ease in situations like this.
Frank recognized these men. Even though he’d never seen them before, he knew the type: political hacks. They hung around the fringes of power, helping out as needed, and made money from the corruption that power bred. The city was full of them. Frank’s only question was why were these particular fellows at Charles Oakes’s funeral?
Sarah was chatting with her parents, so Frank wandered over to where the men stood watching the crowd.
“I don’t think I know you,” he said to the one who appeared to be the leader.
He stared back with a cunning grin. “I don’t think I know you either,” he replied, earning a chuckle from one of his companions.
“Frank Malloy.” He offered his hand.
“Then I do know who you are,” the fellow said, shaking Frank’s hand. “You’re the cop what got all that money.”
Frank managed not to wince. “And who are you?”
“Virgil Adderly.”
The name meant nothing to Frank. “Are you a friend of Charles’s?”
“Not anymore,” he said, earning another chuckle which he silenced with a sharp glance at the offender. “You don’t look like you’d be a friend of his either, Malloy.”
“I know his father from the Knickerbocker Club.” Which was absolutely true as far as it went. This fellow didn’t need to know Frank wasn’t a member there.
“I heard they let in Jews, but I didn’t know they let in Micks. What’s this world coming to?”
“I guess you met Charles at the Asylum,” Frank replied in kind.
He nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I was able to help Oakes get his position there, yes.”
“And now you’re here to make sure he’s really dead?”
“I don’t think it’s any business of yours why I’m here.”
“It’s my business if you’re going to cause trouble.”
“Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know.” Frank glanced meaningfully at his two companions. “Why did you think you’d need bodyguards at a funeral?”
His gaze hardened. “These are my business associates.”
“Just make sure they don’t do any business here.”
“As I said, we’re merely paying our respects.”
Frank took his leave, conscious of their gaze as he made his way across the crowded parlor. Should he upset Oakes by warning him? Or could he take the man at his word that they had no intention of causing trouble? He found Sarah and her parents.
“Who are those men?” Sarah asked.
Frank looked at her father. “Do you know them?”
Felix Decker shook his head. “What are they doing here?”
“They said they know Charles because they got him the job at the Asylum.”
“That’s how things work, of course, but how would Charles know people like that in the first place?”
“And why have they come here?” Mrs. Decker asked with a worried frown.
“They said just to pay their respects,” Frank said.
“Do you believe them?” Sarah asked.
“Of course not, but I don’t think they’re here to cause trouble either. It wouldn’t do them any good to make trouble for a socially prominent family.”
“Then why else would they be here?” Sarah asked.
Frank frowned. “I think they might be waiting for somebody. Watch the way they look up every time somebody comes in.”
“Who could they be waiting for?” Mr. Decker asked.
“I guess we’ll find out if that person shows up.”
“And in the meantime, we should find seats because the service is going to start soon,” Mrs. Decker said.
“Have you seen Gino and Maeve?” Frank asked Sarah as they moved toward the back row of the chairs that had been set up in the center of the room.
“Not yet, but you told them to wait outside until the last minute so they could watch everyone who arrived. They should come in soon, though.”
Sure enough, they had just taken their seats when Gino and Maeve arrived. They looked exactly right in their cheap finery, gawking like rubes. That part had been Maeve’s idea. They’d come to honor Mr. Oakes, who had been such a kind superintendent, but they weren’t quite sure how to act in a big house like this. Maeve clung to Gino’s arm for dear life. If Frank hadn’t known
better, he would have been sure she was terrified to find herself in such a fancy place. Not for the first time, Frank thought how fortunate Sarah had been to hire a nanny who had been raised by a confident man.
The two young people took seats on the opposite end of the last row of chairs and never so much as glanced at Frank and Sarah. Mrs. Decker looked over at them in surprise. “Isn’t that—?”
“Shhh, Mother,” Sarah whispered.
The rest of the group had found their seats, and the family now filed in to sit in the front row. Frank studied the wife, who came first. She looked suitably bereaved, although her eyes showed no sign of prolonged weeping. She’d understand that even if she secretly rejoiced that her husband was dead, she shouldn’t show anything except grief on this occasion. He was looking forward to talking to her, and hoped he would have the opportunity. Men like Gerald Oakes sometimes tried to protect females from the ugliness of murder, but since Sarah already suspected her of being the killer, Frank couldn’t let her off easy.
Next came Gerald and his wife. She also seemed to be bearing up pretty well, her still-beautiful face a frozen mask hiding whatever her true feelings were. For his part, Gerald looked terrible, his face splotchy and haggard. He, at least, had been weeping for his lost child.
Behind them came an elderly woman Frank hadn’t seen before. She hadn’t been greeting guests as they arrived. This must be Gerald’s mother. She walked with a cane and leaned on the arm of a male servant until she reached her seat, although she didn’t seem particularly unsteady on her feet.
As soon as the family was seated, the minister stood up and took his place behind a podium that had been set near the casket.
He welcomed them and said a few platitudes about the tragedy of Charles’s death, and then he said, “Let us pray.” Almost everyone bowed their heads. Frank and Sarah did not, and when he glanced over, he saw Gino and Maeve were also looking around. Interestingly, Virgil Adderly and his companions had also kept their heads raised and their eyes open.
Frank only had a second to register this when a disturbance in the doorway distracted him. A woman had come in late but not quietly. Dressed all in black, she looked the part of a mourner, but her face betrayed not grief but fear and desperation. She glanced wildly around the room until she saw the still-open casket. An anguished cry escaped her, causing the minister to stutter in his prayer and all the mourners to lift their heads in surprise.
She didn’t seem to notice everyone had turned to look at her as she took a step toward the casket and promptly fainted in a heap.
4
Gino was already on his feet before Frank could move, but neither of them were quick enough to beat Virgil Adderly and his companions. If they really had been waiting for someone, this woman was probably the object of their anticipation. The smaller of Adderly’s friends reached her first and made short work of picking her up and carrying her out of the room. Adderly and his other friend followed. It was the work of a moment, and the minister picked up his prayer right where he’d left off.
Gino glanced at Frank for direction. Someone needed to go after them. Frank shook his head and followed the men himself, taking a moment to close the parlor doors behind him. No sense disturbing the funeral any more than necessary.
The male servant who had been helping old Mrs. Oakes was trying to get them to stop so someone could minister to the stricken woman, but Adderly was intent on getting her out of there.
“Adderly, you aren’t planning to kidnap that poor woman, are you?” Frank said.
Adderly looked around in surprise to see Frank following them. He signaled his friend who was carrying the unconscious woman to stop. “I’m just going to take her home. She’s obviously indisposed.”
“Nothing a little smelling salts won’t cure,” Frank said. “Oh, look, she’s coming around without them.”
The woman’s eyes fluttered, and she moaned softly, “Charles.”
“Get her out of here,” Adderly snapped to the man still holding her, then turned to Frank. “You should mind your own business, Malloy.”
“Charles Oakes’s death is my business.”
“Charles,” the woman said again as she regained consciousness. She looked around in alarm. “Put me down, Amos!”
Amos looked to Adderly, who nodded curtly. Amos set her down. Now that he had a chance to really look at her, Frank could see she was a rather plain woman a bit past her prime, although her figure was good. He’d thought for a minute, right before she fainted, that she might have been Oakes’s mistress, but now he realized that was unlikely.
She was looking around frantically. “Where is he? I must see him!”
“You can’t see him, Ella. He didn’t want anything to do with you when he was alive, and you’re not going to make a fool of yourself in front of all those people.”
She looked like she was going to argue with Adderly, and Frank figured an argument like that, with a female who was already on her way to being hysterical, could be very loud and unpleasant for the Oakes family.
“This isn’t really a good time to see him, miss,” Frank said, stepping forward.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“A friend of Charles’s.” Frank ignored the glare Adderly was giving him. “You’ll want to spend some time with him alone, to say good-bye.” Frank was gratified to see the glimmer of hope in her muddy brown eyes. “If you let Mr. Adderly take you away now, you can come back later, after everyone’s gone, and have him all to yourself.”
“Oh, thank you!” she said. “Thank you so much.” She turned to Adderly. “You see, Virgil, Charles’s friends understand.”
Adderly shot Frank a look of reluctant gratitude, then turned back to Ella. “Let me take you home now.”
“And you’ll bring me back later?”
“Of course,” he lied.
She turned back to Frank. “Thank you, sir. You are truly a gentleman.”
Frank nodded his acknowledgment and watched Adderly guide her down the stairs and out of the house with his two thugs at his heels.
Now wasn’t that interesting. Adderly claimed to have helped Oakes get his patronage appointment at the Manhattan State Hospital, and maybe he had, but who was this woman Ella and how did she know Charles Oakes? She was obviously not quite right in the head either, so he also had to wonder if she might have poisoned poor Charles when she realized he didn’t want anything to do with her. In his police work, he’d dealt with women who had developed an unhealthy—and unrequited—attachment to some man, and this looked like another version of that malady.
Of course, she would have had to have access to Charles in his home, which didn’t seem likely, but Frank had learned not to jump to conclusions where murder was concerned.
“Mr. Malloy?” the butler said. “Thank you very much for your assistance, sir.”
“Oh, you’re welcome. I was glad to help.”
“Would you like to go back into the service now?”
He really wanted to go after Adderly and find out more about this mysterious female, but he’d have time for that later. “I suppose so.”
“Please follow me, then, sir.”
• • •
After the funeral and the meal, Gino and Maeve were waiting for them back at Sarah’s parents’ house, which was only a few blocks from the Oakeses’ house. The Deckers greeted the young people and made everyone comfortable in the rear parlor, the room the family used most often.
“Who on earth was that woman who fainted?” Mrs. Decker asked when they were settled.
Frank noticed that Gino had taken a seat beside Maeve on the sofa. She was no longer clinging to his arm, and they seemed more comfortable together than they had been.
“Her name is Ella,” Frank said. “Adderly and his friends were waiting for her to arrive.”
“Is Adderly the rough-looking fellow
with the two, uh, companions?” Sarah asked.
“Yes. I got the feeling they had been expecting her to arrive and make a scene, and they all seemed to know each other very well. She was upset about Charles Oakes’s death and wanted to pay her respects, whatever she thought that meant, but Adderly was determined she wasn’t going to make a fool of herself in front of everyone.”
“She managed to make a spectacle of herself in spite of him, though,” Mrs. Decker said.
“It wasn’t as bad as it would’ve been if Adderly hadn’t gotten her out of there,” Frank said.
“But what relationship does she have with Charles Oakes?” Sarah asked.
“She’s apparently in love with him or thinks she is, and according to what Adderly said, Oakes didn’t want anything to do with her. I’d like to get her side of the story, though.”
“And find out where she was when Oakes was poisoned,” Gino added grimly.
“So, enough about Miss Ella. Gino, did you notice anything suspicious?”
Gino glanced at Maeve. “Maeve did.”
“What was it?”
Maeve frowned. “Charles’s wife. She never shed a tear.”
“I think we already decided she didn’t care much for her husband,” Sarah said.
“But did you notice all the men—the young ones, I mean—were giving her a lot of sympathy, but not the women?”
“I saw women going up to her to express their condolences,” Mrs. Decker said.
“Yes, but they didn’t really talk to her. They just said how sorry they were and then walked away. The men, they took her hand and looked into her eyes and told her how she could always count on them and a lot of silly stuff that didn’t mean anything except they’d be more than happy to come over and cheer her up after the funeral was over.”
Mrs. Decker looked shocked. “Do you think she could have been having an affair?”
“Elizabeth,” her husband scolded her. “Is that any way to talk about the poor girl?”
“It is if she was having an affair,” Mrs. Decker replied.
Murder on Amsterdam Avenue Page 6
