Murder on Trinity Place

by Victoria Thompson

“Saturday. Theda got a telegram while I was there. Theda said her mother has decided to have it at their church.”

  “Perfect.”

  “So did you find out anything from the autopsy?” Sarah asked.

  She’d waited until they had finished their Welsh rarebit to ask, Frank noticed. “Doc Haynes said somebody strangled Pritchard with his own scarf. From behind.”

  “That sounds familiar,” Maeve said. They’d recently solved a murder that had hit very close to them in which the victim died the same way.

  “But how could you strangle someone in a crowd like that without someone noticing?” Sarah asked.

  “Doc said Pritchard wouldn’t have been able to make a sound as soon as the scarf tightened around his neck, and it was dark and nobody was paying any particular attention. Remember how noisy it was, too, with all those tin horns blowing. I also figured out where he died.”

  “You mean besides near the church?” Maeve asked.

  “Yes. He must have been sitting on a bench.”

  “How do you know that?” Sarah asked.

  “Doc said he was missing a shoe, so I went to the church to see if I could find where he’d lost it. Turns out one of the maintenance men had found it under one of the benches. He didn’t realize it belonged to Pritchard.”

  “So Mr. Pritchard was sitting on a bench and someone came up behind him and strangled him with his own scarf and he kicked off his shoe while it was happening,” Maeve said.

  “That’s what it looks like,” Frank confirmed. “Then the killer dragged the body over to a clump of bushes and stuffed Mr. Pritchard into them, mostly out of sight.”

  “Wait,” Sarah said. “Did you say someone dragged his body away from the bench and hid it in some bushes?”

  “Yes, that’s—”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Maeve said.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Sarah said. “Maybe nobody noticed when he was being strangled, but someone would have noticed a person dragging a body and hiding it, even in the dark.”

  “And it wasn’t totally dark,” Maeve said. “The streetlamps were lit and they’re everywhere in that part of the city.”

  “Oh yes, I hadn’t thought about the dragging part looking suspicious,” Frank said.

  Sarah frowned. “So if he was strangled while sitting on the bench . . .”

  “Mr. Pritchard wasn’t sitting on any benches when you saw him, though,” Maeve said.

  “What do you mean?” Frank asked.

  “I mean he was going from person to person explaining how this was the real beginning of the century and making everyone angry.”

  “That’s right,” Sarah said. “He was moving so quickly that you lost him in the crowd, too.”

  “So why would he have sat down with all those hundreds of people right there who might still be convinced?” Maeve asked.

  “You’re right,” Frank said. “That doesn’t make sense. And yet he did sit down, because that’s where he was when he got killed.”

  “So if he wouldn’t have sat down while there were people there still to be convinced, when did he sit down?” Maeve asked.

  “After they had all left,” Sarah said.

  The others looked at her for a long moment.

  “Remember, we waited while everyone was leaving to see if we could find him in the crowd,” Sarah said.

  “But we never saw him leaving,” Maeve said.

  “That’s right,” Frank said. “And that’s because he never left. He would have been on the other side of the churchyard, over by Trinity Place, and we know he never left at all because he died there.”

  “So when all the other revelers were gone,” Maeve said, “he might have been tired—”

  “Or discouraged because nobody wanted to listen to his theories,” Sarah said.

  “Or sick, because remember you thought he looked strange,” Maeve said.

  “So he sat down on the nearest bench,” Frank concluded.

  “And someone saw him there and decided this was the perfect opportunity to kill him,” Maeve said.

  Frank and Sarah frowned.

  “Don’t look at me like that. It’s what happened!”

  “Yes, but why at that place and at that time?” Frank asked. “How could someone who just happened to want to murder Pritchard just happen to see him sitting there and decide this was his perfect opportunity?”

  “That’s easy,” Maeve said. “The killer must have followed Pritchard there and waited for his chance.”

  “And I think that’s exactly what happened,” Gino said from the doorway.

  VI

  Sarah got Gino seated at the table and Velvet immediately set about fixing him something to eat. While they waited for it to arrive, Gino told them about his visit to the dairy.

  “So Harvey lied about where he was that night,” Malloy mused.

  “Yes, and he lied more than once, so now I can’t even guess where he really was.”

  “So who is this Amelio Bruno to Harvey?” Maeve asked. “I mean besides one of the clerks at the dairy?”

  “I gathered that he and Harvey are friends. They were going to celebrate New Year’s Eve together, so Bruno must be more than just an employee.”

  “He was also once in love with Theda,” Sarah said, shocking them all.

  “Don’t tell me it’s another thwarted love affair,” Maeve said. “This family seems to run to them.”

  “This one was very one-sided. Theda did not return his affections, and her father didn’t approve of one of his clerks courting his daughter, either, but maybe his feelings for Theda make Mr. Bruno more willing to protect Harvey.”

  “Not necessarily. He might have lied for Harvey just to keep his job,” Maeve said.

  “But he wasn’t too worried about losing his job because as soon as I mentioned he might get arrested for perjury, he changed his tune pretty quick,” Gino said.

  “I was just telling the ladies about my visit to the morgue and to the church this morning,” Malloy said.

  “The church? You went back there?”

  “Yes.” He briefly explained how Doc had told him about the missing shoe and where it had been found.

  Gino was nodding enthusiastically by the time Malloy had finished. “If Harvey had followed his father that night, he might have been keeping an eye on him the whole time, waiting for his chance.”

  “Or maybe he hadn’t planned to kill his father but suddenly realized that would solve all his problems and took advantage of the opportunity,” Maeve said.

  “All what problems?” Sarah asked.

  Maeve started to reply but stopped when she obviously couldn’t think of anything.

  “He’d inherit the dairy,” Gino offered.

  “Did he want the dairy?” Malloy asked.

  “I don’t know, but he doesn’t seem too happy to have it,” Gino admitted.

  “He didn’t get along with his father,” Maeve offered.

  “Is that enough reason to kill him, though?” Malloy asked.

  Nobody had an answer.

  “I think the more important question is why Harvey lied in the first place about where he was that night,” Sarah said.

  “He also lied in the second and third place. So far he’s claimed to be out with his friends, at the dairy, and at the church where his father was killed,” Gino said.

  “That’s a lot of lies for an innocent man, especially when nobody can confirm any of them,” Maeve said.

  “So it’s possible he wasn’t at any of those places, although it seems odd he’d finally claim he’d gone looking for his father when that makes him a better suspect in his murder,” Malloy said.

  “Maybe he didn’t realize that,” Sarah said.

  “That’s very possible. He doesn’t seem very bright,” Gino said.<
br />
  “When he claimed he was at the dairy, what did he say he was doing there?” Maeve asked.

  “That’s the strange thing. Nobody should have been at the dairy at all so late at night except maybe a night watchman to keep an eye on things. The drivers come in very early in the morning to load up the milk wagons, and they go out around four o’clock. They deliver the milk, then come back and unload the empty milk bottles. They’ve got stable boys to take care of the horses, and by early afternoon, the drivers have gone home. I guess the men who pasteurize the milk and bottle it work until five or six o’clock, but after they go home, there’s nothing happening until the drivers come back in the middle of the night. He tried to say he was there loading the milk wagons, but even I knew he was lying about that.”

  “So that was a really stupid lie,” Malloy said.

  “Yes, it was, except . . .” Gino paused when Velvet returned with his lunch. She’d made him a nice sandwich, since the rarebit was gone.

  “Except what?” Maeve prodded while Gino took an enormous bite of the sandwich.

  They had to wait while he chewed and swallowed. “Except it was his second story, and he seemed very pleased with himself, the way people are when you catch them in a lie and they finally tell you the truth and know it will get them out of trouble.”

  “But it didn’t get him out of trouble,” Maeve said.

  “And then he changed his story again,” Malloy mused. “Why did he change it that time?”

  “Because I started asking him exactly what he was doing at the dairy at that time of night. I’d already gotten an idea of how things worked from my first visit, so it didn’t make sense to me. Bruno was no help to him on this story, so he finally gave up and said he’d followed his father to the church for the celebration.”

  “Of course all three stories could be lies,” Maeve pointed out.

  “Or half-truths,” Gino said. “Maybe Harvey did go to the church and kill his father and then went to a saloon to join his friends, but that story about being at the dairy seemed too strange to be made up.”

  “Especially when you know nothing happens at the dairy at that time of night,” Malloy said.

  “Nothing to do with the regular operation, no, but . . . I didn’t mention this before because it was just a feeling, but I got that same feeling again today, so I should probably tell you. I think something is going on at the dairy that nobody wants me to know about.”

  “What makes you think that?” Sarah asked.

  “Yesterday, one of the employees saw me looking around and he told me not to ask any questions.”

  “That’s a strange thing to say to someone,” Maeve said.

  “I thought so. And today, nobody down in the stables would talk to me at all.”

  “Were you asking questions?” Maeve teased.

  “No, as a matter of fact. I was just saying ‘hello’ and ‘nice day,’ but nobody acted like they even heard me. It was like they thought if they ignored me, I’d go away.”

  “Wishful thinking,” Maeve said with a grin.

  “Well, it’s easy enough to find out if something is going on at the dairy,” Malloy said. “We just go down there tonight and see.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Can you see anything?” Frank asked from beneath the heap of carriage robes he’d piled over him to keep out the wintry chill. Gino had convinced him to bring the motorcar to their late-night surveillance. Frank had to admit it was a good ruse. They’d parked down the street from the dairy, and Gino had hopped out and opened the hood, as if he were trying to fix something. Motors were always breaking down, so this was a common sight and no one would question their presence.

  If only it wasn’t so darned cold.

  “Somebody just turned on some lights in the stable area,” Gino reported from his position at the front of the motorcar. He stood on the sidewalk side so he had a clear view of the dairy without being too visible himself.

  “Can you see what’s going on?”

  “Not yet, but . . . Wait, one of the doors just opened.”

  Frank could see the light spilling out into the street now. “Are they starting deliveries already?”

  “It’s way too early for milk deliveries,” Gino said. It wasn’t yet midnight.

  They watched, however, as a milk wagon trundled out the open door and turned onto the street, coming toward them. They waited, with Gino continuing his pretended repairs to the motor. Frank raised a hand in acknowledgment to the driver as the wagon trundled past them, but the driver ignored him, spitting over the side as if giving his silent opinion of the motorcar.

  By then another wagon had come out and turned in the opposite direction. “Let’s follow that one,” Frank said when the first wagon was far enough away that the driver couldn’t overhear.

  Gino quickly levered the hood closed and gave the crank a practiced turn, bringing the engine to life.

  “Notice anything funny about the wagon?” Frank asked as Gino eased the motor into motion.

  “No. What?”

  “It was empty.”

  Gino looked over in surprise. “How do you know?”

  “The way it was riding, high and loose on its springs. Also, what’s the first thing you notice about milk wagons?”

  Gino considered for a moment. “Oh, the noise they make. All those bottles rattling.”

  “Yes, and that wagon didn’t make a sound.”

  “So why would somebody be taking an empty milk wagon out at this time of night?”

  “I don’t know, which is why I suggested we follow one.”

  Gino was keeping a nice distance from the second milk wagon. Luckily, traffic was light at this time of night, so it wasn’t hard to keep it in sight. “But you have a theory,” Gino guessed.

  “Let’s just say that an empty milk wagon driving around late at night suggests a lot of things, none of them exactly legal.”

  * * *

  • • •

  And where did it go?” Sarah asked while Malloy ate breakfast the next morning. He had not awakened her when he arrived home the night before, and she’d let him sleep in since he’d been out so late.

  “We didn’t want to get too close, and we certainly didn’t want to see what they were really doing—”

  “Because they wouldn’t want any witnesses to what they were really doing,” Sarah guessed.

  “That did occur to us, and when we saw them heading down a dark street near the river where a lot of warehouses full of merchandise unloaded from the ships are located, we figured we’d seen enough.”

  “Do you think the wagons were stealing from the warehouses?”

  “Not the wagons,” Malloy said with a grin.

  She waved away his correction with a flick of her hand. “The drivers, then.”

  “I don’t want to accuse anyone of anything quite yet, but it looks like the Pure Dairy wagons are being used for something that might very well be illegal.”

  “The question is, did Mr. Pritchard know?”

  Malloy frowned. “I can’t imagine he did. Do you think he would have been involved in something illegal?”

  “Absolutely not! Do you?”

  “No, I don’t, and everyone else who knew him says the same thing. And yet just days after his death, this is happening.”

  “Could it have just started? Because he died, I mean.”

  Malloy sat back and sipped his coffee, giving the matter a few moments’ thought. “That’s definitely a possibility.”

  “So maybe they killed him so he wouldn’t interfere.”

  “Or maybe he just found out it was going on, and they killed him so he wouldn’t expose them.”

  Sarah sighed. This was all so ugly. “Either situation is a very good motive for murder.”

  “Yes, and it
really doesn’t matter which one it was. So we need to find out who is behind all this.”

  “Do you have any ideas?”

  “It would have to be a person in authority at the dairy because someone is bound to notice the wagons are being used when the dairy is closed.”

  “If they bring the wagons back before the drivers arrive to load them with milk, how would anyone know?” Sarah asked.

  “The wagons would either be dirty or freshly washed, if the person in charge of this is persnickety, which would be noticed, and the stable boys would know the horses had been used. They’d be tired and also dirty and in no condition to go back out for deliveries.”

  “What if they only used a few of the wagons and horses, though? The dairy probably has extras, because you never know when a horse will pull up lame or a wagon will lose a wheel or something.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, but even still, somebody would notice that things were not in the same condition they’d been in at the end of the workday.”

  “And someone in authority would have to instruct the stable boys and the other drivers not to be concerned,” Sarah said.

  “But they would still know. This would also explain the feeling Gino got that something was going on.”

  “Yes, it would. But if the workers were already aware of it, surely it’s been going on for a while, since Mr. Pritchard has only been dead for a few days.”

  “That means we have to find out how they kept it a secret from him, but most of all, we need to know exactly what they’re doing and who is behind it.”

  “How are you going to do that?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Meanwhile, Gino and I are going to Brooklyn today to visit the swill milk dairy that Harvey told us his father was upset about.”

  “Do you really think that has anything to do with Mr. Pritchard’s death?”

  “You saw how upset he got about the turn-of-the-century argument. He was probably even more obnoxious about somebody selling bad milk.”

  “You’re probably right.” Sarah sighed. “I just hope we don’t find out the family is involved in any of this, for Theda’s sake.”

  “Theda’s the one who hired me, remember.”