“Certainly not,” she said, knowing it was true. They would have mourned her for the rest of their lives, but they never would have been able to accept that her death had been anything but mischance. They wouldn’t be able to believe someone like Dirk, a gentleman of their own class, capable of a heinous crime. “And the worst part is, he would’ve been free to keep on killing.”
“Didn’t you tell him I was watching?” Malloy wasn’t going to let this alone.
“He… he thought I was lying.”
Mercifully, Malloy didn’t question her further on that point. She didn’t want to have to admit she’d let Dirk believe she was unprotected.
The wagon stopped in front of an unassuming house set back a little from the avenue. “This is where they took him,” the driver said. Was he looking at them strangely? Sarah wished she could say something to reassure him, but that wasn’t possible.
Malloy helped her down from the seat and slipped some coins to the driver, asking him to wait for them.
Inside they found the doctor looking grim. “You his family?”
“No, just… just a friend,” Sarah said, almost choking on the word.
“I’m sorry. Wasn’t anything I could do. He was near dead when he got here. I gave him something for the pain so he didn’t suffer too much at the end.”
Malloy made a rude noise, which the doctor obviously mistook for grief. He murmured some condolences, which Malloy ignored.
“What arrangements do you want to make for the body? It won’t keep long in this heat,” he added apologetically.
“I’ll inform his family when I get back to the city,” Sarah said. “I’m sure they’ll send for the body immediately. Can you keep it until then?”
A few moments later Sarah and Malloy were back in the waiting wagon. Malloy told the driver to take them to the trolley station. At Sarah’s questioning look, he said, “There’s nothing else we can do here, is there?”
She had to agree.
MALLOY HADN’T WANTED Sarah to visit Dirk’s family alone. He thought this was a police matter and that he should be the one to notify them. Sarah had argued that it wasn’t a police matter unless he was going to charge someone with murder, and since the suspect was dead, he wasn’t likely to do that. Sarah saw no need to blacken the name of the entire Schyler family by accusing their son of murder when he wasn’t able to defend himself. In fact, doing so would only bring down the very considerable wrath of that family and all their friends and relations. Malloy didn’t need that any more than Sarah did. Justice had been served with Dirk’s death, and they would have to be satisfied that they were the only ones who knew it.
Sarah still had one last duty to perform before she could be completely satisfied, however. Somehow she had to test Dirk’s alibi for Gerda’s murder. If Dirk hadn’t been guilty of that crime, then a killer was still on the loose.
The Schylers lived in one of the unpretentious brown-stone town houses a few blocks from her parents’ home. Outside, the homes were quietly elegant. The Dutch weren’t much for ostentatiously flaunting their wealth. Inside, however, the dwellings were as plain or elaborate as the occupants’ tastes-and fortunes-allowed. The Schylers, Sarah discovered when she was admitted to their home, were apparently still doing very well, indeed.
The marble floor shone brightly in the summer evening sunlight, and fresh flowers filled the Oriental vase that sat on the imported English table standing in the center of the entrance hall. The butler had looked at her queerly when he’d seen her standing on the front stoop. He’d have no idea who she was, of course, and her clothes marked her as distinctly middle class. Only her message-that she had some news about Dirk-had gained her admittance. She just hoped his parents recognized her name so she wouldn’t have to explain too much. She didn’t think she was up to any more fabrications today. She’d already composed enough lies to last her a lifetime.
After a few minutes the butler escorted her into the back parlor, where she found Dirk’s mother alone, ensconced on a sofa in a room far less grandly furnished than the formal rooms reserved for company. She was wearing a simple, at-home dress, and her hair hadn’t been arranged. Plainly, she hadn’t been receiving visitors today, and she looked annoyed at having one now.
“Sarah Decker, is that you?” she demanded when Sarah walked in. “James said another name, but that’s who you are, isn’t it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sarah said. “Brandt is my married name.”
“But you’re widowed, I think,” she said, looking Sarah over with no apparent approval. The years had scoured away any excess flesh from her face, leaving her gaunt and sharp looking. From the way the lines on her face ran, she also seldom smiled.
“Yes, I am. Mrs. Schyler, is your husband at home? I’m afraid I have some unpleasant news, and I think it would be better if-”
“Nonsense,” she said, waving away Sarah’s suggestion. “Just say what you’ve come to say. It’s not the first time some female has come in here mewling that Dirk has ruined her and demanding this or that in compensation. He won’t marry you, I promise you that! You may be a Decker by birth, but anyone can see that you’re as common as dirt now. You can’t expect Dirk would waste himself on the likes of you. You should have thought about that before you took up with him.”
“I didn’t ‘take up with him,’ Mrs. Schyler,” Sarah said, reminding herself that she was about to shatter this woman’s life. Only the thought of her grief allowed Sarah to hold her temper.
“You certainly wanted to,” she said. “Everyone knows how you pursued him. You’ve made yourself a laughing- stock, young lady.”
Sarah felt a twinge of annoyance at the thought of her ruined reputation among society matrons, a sad remnant of her previous life. Well, if they were gossiping about her before, just wait until they found out where her pursuit of Dirk had led.
“Mrs. Schyler, the news I have isn’t about me. It’s about Dirk,” she said. Although she hadn’t been offered a seat, she sat down anyway, taking the fragile damask-covered chair opposite her companion. “I’m afraid there’s been a terrible accident.”
There it was again, the phrase Dirk had used. Sarah shuddered slightly at the realization that if things had gone as he planned, Dirk might well be delivering this same news to her own parents instead.
“What kind of accident?” Mrs. Schyler didn’t believe it could be very important.
Oh, dear, where to start? “You see. Dirk and I went to Coney Island today and-”
“Coney Island,” Sarah repeated, hoping she wouldn’t question everything Sarah said. This could take all night! “There is a park there with rides and-”
“What on earth were you doing in a place like that? I can’t believe my son would consent to such a thing. Although I suppose your tastes have grown common. They certainly have if that gown is any indication.”
Sarah was rapidly losing patience, but she reminded herself of her mission and bit back the sharp retort that sprang so readily to her lips. “Dirk enjoyed going to the park there,” Sarah said, not really caring whether the other woman believed her or not. “We were on the Ferris wheel this afternoon and… and that’s when the accident happened.”
When Sarah hesitated, Mrs. Schyler grew impatient. “Go on, spit it out,” she said. “I don’t have all day.”
Sarah drew a deep breath and began to recite the story that was almost starting to sound true to her own ears. “We were on the Ferris wheel, at the very top, and the gate across the car came loose. It flew open, and just as Dirk reached to pull it back again, the wheel started to move. He lost his balance and… and he fell.”
“That was very careless of him,” his mother said with disapproval. “I suppose he was injured or else you wouldn’t be here” She sighed with long-suffering. “All right, where is he? We’ll see that our doctor attends him immediately.”
Sarah would have liked to see a bit more concern from Dirk’s mother, even if she truly believed he’d only been injured. She had no reason to believe the injuries were minor, after all. “He… he was taken to a doctor there, but… there was nothing he could do. I’m sorry to tell you, Mrs. Schyler, but Dirk died of his injuries.”
Mrs. Schyler stared at her through faded blue eyes as the truth slowly penetrated.
“Yes,” she said, and manufactured another lie to add to her long list for the day. “You’ll be relieved to know he didn’t suffer, though. The end came quickly.”
