Murder In Chelsea Part 16

"Thank you, no. It would be out of your way, and I don't have far to go."

Sarah couldn't help thinking of the sensation her parents' carriage would cause if it pulled up in front of Malloy's tenement.

Her parents put on their coats and started to go, but for a moment, Sarah realized her father was hesitant to leave her there alone with Malloy. Then he appeared to shake it off and the two of them left.

Sarah turned to Malloy, wanting to reach out for the comfort of his arms and knowing she didn't dare. Pretending they were just friends was difficult enough already. Instead she smiled. "Did my mother surprise you?"

"Your mother always surprises me. Just when I think I know what to expect from her, she does something completely amazing. I actually feel sorry for your father."

"I know. I expected him to be angry at her and instead he apologized."

"He thinks of Catherine as his grandchild, too."

Tears sprang to her eyes. "Oh, Malloy, what will I do if they take her away?"

"n.o.body is going to take her away, even if I have to pack the two of you up and put you on a train to California."

This surprised her so much, she forgot she wanted to burst into tears. "California?"

"I'm sure your father will have a closer hideout, but if it comes to that, then yes, California. You're not going to give Catherine to those people, I promise you that."

"Thank you, Malloy. I don't know how I'd bear this without you."

He looked surprised for a moment, and then he said, "You're your mother's daughter. You'd bear it somehow."

With that he left, leaving her staring after him as he disappeared into the night. Yes, he was right. She'd bear it somehow, even without him, but she was so very grateful that she didn't have to.

8.

FRANK HAD LAIN AWAKE FOR A LONG TIME LAST NIGHT, going over everything he'd learned yesterday. To his chagrin, he remembered that he'd never gotten an answer from Vaughn to one of the most important questions he'd asked, the one about why he and Emma had suddenly decided to flee the city. The only clue he had was Wilbanks's claim that he had proposed marriage to Emma and that she had refused. Marriage to Wilbanks would have given Emma everything she could have ever wanted in life, so Frank found it impossible to believe she would have turned it down. Even if she truly cared for Vaughn, which she must if she was willing to tolerate his drinking and stay with him all these years, she could have kept him as her lover. No, Emma had another reason for leaving town, and Frank was pretty sure it involved Ozzie Wilbanks.

By the time he arrived at the Decker home late the next morning, he'd worked out a plan for getting Ozzie to tell him everything. To his credit, Decker was waiting for him, as eager as Frank to confront the person who might give them the information they needed to find Anne Murphy's killer.

Decker's carriage took them the few blocks to Wilbanks's house. Frank didn't complain or point out they could have walked the distance faster. If he'd learned nothing from Sarah Brandt, he'd learned the importance rich people put on appearances. Besides, it gave them a chance to make their plans for how their interview with Ozzie would go.

"What will we do if Ozzie refuses to see us?" Frank asked as they pulled up at their destination.

"He won't refuse."

Frank was still marveling at his confidence when the driver opened the door and Decker stepped out onto the sidewalk. Frank followed, standing aside as Decker knocked on the door and informed the maid who answered that he needed to see Oswald Wilbanks on an urgent matter of business. Once again they were escorted into the receiving room.

"What business do you have with Ozzie?" Frank asked when they were alone.

"None, but I'm sure he'll be curious enough to see me. Men like him are always looking for the main chance, and the prospect of being sought out by Felix Decker will be too tempting."

He was right. The maid returned almost instantly to show them up to the parlor where they had each met with the elder Wilbanks. Today, the fire in this room had not been lit. The man who greeted them appeared to be in his late twenties, although his pale, brown hair had already begun to thin and too many late nights had left his skin sallow and his waistline thick.

"Mr. Decker, it really is you," he said, extending his hand. "I confess, I was afraid one of my friends was playing a joke on me. It's a pleasure, sir."

"The pleasure is mine," Decker said. "I've been hearing things about you, young man, and I wanted to see for myself if they are true."

While Ozzie basked in the perceived compliment, Frank bit back a smile. Decker had indeed heard things about Ozzie, but none of them were good. As they had agreed, Frank continued to allow Decker to lead the conversation. Frank would step in only if necessary.

When the two men had finished taking each other's measure, Decker said, "May I present my a.s.sociate, Detective Sergeant Frank Malloy of the New York City Police."

Ozzie's surprise was almost comic. His jaw dropped and he did not offer his hand. "The police?"

"Yes," Decker said with the same hearty tone, as if he were completely oblivious of Ozzie's reaction. "We're here to discuss your family's situation concerning a young child whom I believe is your father's daughter by his mistress, a Miss Emma Hardy."

"I . . . I don't know what you're talking about," Ozzie tried.

"Nonsense. We're all men of the world, Mr. Wilbanks. There's no need to pretend ignorance. We know you're acquainted with Miss Hardy and understand her situation."

"Well, yes, I suppose I do." He was still eyeing Frank with deep suspicion.

"Perhaps we should sit down," Decker said.

This snapped Ozzie back to remembering his responsibilities as host. "Of course, please sit down. May I offer you something? A drink perhaps?"

"It's a bit early for me," Decker said. "Mr. Malloy?"

Frank shook his head, but Ozzie had already gone to the sideboard, where a collection of crystal decanters sat. "I hope you won't mind if I do, then. This is something of a shock, you understand."

Ozzie poured himself a liberal measure of amber liquor and took a big gulp of it before even moving away from the sideboard. Decker had chosen a grouping of chairs by the front windows, and Ozzie joined them there. Apparently fortified by the drink, he managed an unconvincing smile. "I'm sorry, Mr. Decker, but I'm afraid I don't understand your interest-or the interest of the police-in what is only a family matter."

"Well, you see, it's a family matter for me, too. The child, Catherine, has been living with my daughter for the better part of a year."

"Your daughter?"

"Yes, my daughter does volunteer work at a settlement house that cares for young girls. The child was abandoned there, I understand, but perhaps you already know all this."

"As a matter of fact, I do. My father told me all about the girl yesterday. Until then, I had no idea."

"Don't be coy," Decker said. "We know you knew about her long ago, Mr. Wilbanks. We also know you visited Emma Hardy on at least two occasions while she was still under your father's protection."

Ozzie frowned. "So what if I did?"

"May I ask what you and Miss Hardy discussed?"

Ozzie needed a minute, during which his gaze darted between Frank and Decker and back again, as if trying to decide which of them was in charge. Even though Frank hadn't yet uttered a word, Ozzie replied to him.

"As you can probably understand, I was quite upset to learn my father kept a mistress. I went out to see if I could convince her to . . . to release him."

"And you were successful," Decker said.

Ozzie seemed surprised at this. "Oh, no, not at all. I didn't know about the child, you see, not until I went out there the first time. I thought her hold on him was purely s.e.xual, but when I saw the child, I knew it was more than that. Father might allow a mistress to leave him, but he would never shirk his responsibilities to a child."

"And what would he think his responsibilities were to this child?" Frank asked, since Ozzie was still addressing him.

Ozzie took another gulp of his drink to cover his unease, then tried to sound casual as he said, "To support her, of course."

"And that's all?" Frank asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, did your father intend to do more than just support the child?"

Ozzie gave them another unconvincing smile. "What else could he have done?"

Decker returned the smile. "He could have married Miss Hardy after your mother died."

Color blossomed in Ozzie's cheeks. "That's absurd!"

"Is it?" Frank asked. "Your father told me that's exactly what he intended to do."

"That's the first I've heard of it."

"And what would you have done if you'd heard of it last year?" Decker asked, surprising Frank.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do," Frank said. "You knew your father intended to marry Emma Hardy, and you went out there to threaten her, to tell her what would happen to her if she did agree to marry your father."

To Frank's surprise, Ozzie's shoulders sagged with relief. "Is that what she told you? That lying little b.i.t.c.h, of course she did! Well, that's not what happened at all."

"What did happen then?" Frank asked.

Ozzie sank back in the chair, obviously comfortable now with their conversation and no longer feeling threatened. "I guess maybe I did think I'd threaten her that first time I went to see her. I didn't know about the child yet, as I said. All I knew was my father was keeping a woman, and I wanted to see her for myself. My mother was still alive then, although she died soon after, but I didn't know how little time she had left. I wanted to defend our family's honor, I think, and see if I couldn't convince her to release my father from her clutches."

"So you did threaten her that first time?" Frank asked.

"No. Well, maybe. She might think so. I was angry, of course. Then I saw the child, and I was even angrier. How dare he do that to my mother? I don't even remember what I said to her, but I do remember she laughed at me. She said if I so much as laid a hand on her, my father would cut me off without a cent." Plainly, the memory still rankled, and a flush rose up his neck.

"Did you believe her?" Frank asked.

"My father is a very . . . Well, under the circ.u.mstances, I hate to say he's a 'moral' man, but he has his own standards, and he obeys them. Harming a female, even a lying, scheming little piece of trash like Emma Harding, would violate his standards."

"So you were afraid your father would disinherit you, his only son, for interfering with his mistress?" Decker asked skeptically.

"He's threatened to before, for far less serious offenses," he said, not bothering to hide his bitterness.

"All right," Frank said, "so you were afraid to threaten her the first time. Why did you go back to see her again?"

This time Ozzie drained his gla.s.s, then cast a longing look at the decanter across the room before replying. "I had to protect my father."

"From what?"

"From her," he snapped. "My mother died, and Michael told me Father was going to marry that wh.o.r.e."

"Michael Hicks?" Frank asked.

"Yes, of course. Who else? He tells Michael everything."

"Is Michael the one who told you about Miss Hardy in the first place?" Frank asked.

"Uh, no, he wasn't."

"Who was?"

"My, uh, my wife."

"Your wife? How did she find out?"

"I'm not sure."

Decker made an impatient sound. "Come now, Wilbanks. You can't expect us to believe you didn't ask your wife how she came by such scandalous information. Is it common gossip?"

"Not common, no. I mean, my father was very discreet. He had no wish to embarra.s.s my mother or us."

"Then how did she learn of it?"

"She . . . Well, she suspected something. Father would leave town quite regularly with no explanation, so she had him followed."

"She hired a private investigator?" Decker asked, exchanging a knowing glance with Frank.

"Heavens, no, nothing so elaborate. She asked her cousin to see what he could find out, and he was the one who discovered my father's little hideaway."

"Which cousin is this?" Decker asked, probably thinking his wife would want to know exactly how he fit into the family tree.

"Terrance. Terrance Udall. You can ask him yourself. We did nothing wrong. He was with me the second time I went to see the wh.o.r.e."

But Frank remembered what Anne Murphy had told Sarah about that visit. Emma had been badly frightened. "Exactly what did you say to Miss Hardy that time?"

"Me? Not much. Terrance did most of the talking. He's a bit hotheaded, I'm afraid. He may have even raised his voice to her, but she gave it right back to him. She's a harridan, that one. I don't know what my father sees in her."

"Did Terrance threaten her?" Decker asked.

"Not really."

Frank had had enough of Ozzie Wilbanks. He gave him a look that made him squirm in his chair. "Then what did he really say to her?"

"I, well, she might have considered it a threat, although that's not how we meant it."