Nelson seemed to think. She tried hard to look young. Her clothes and her hair and her manner were designed to make her appear so, but I could see she was way past the blush of youth. She was a very good actress, but her eyes gave her away. They weren’t innocent at all.”
“But Ellsworth was fooled.”
“Oh, yes, completely. And when Nelson introduced me, she became hysterical. At first she insisted on believing that I was Nelson’s fiancee who had come to denounce her. He finally convinced her I was a midwife, and then she started accusing him of bringing me there to kill her baby! Can you imagine? She wouldn’t listen to anything he said, so finally, I left him there to comfort her and went home.”
“You’d think she’d be happy to find out you weren’t Nelson’s fiancee,” Frank said.
“Yes, you would, but she actually seemed disappointed. It was as if she
“If she didn’t want to marry Nelson, what
“She wanted money. A thousand dollars, so she could go away and not bother Nelson again.”
“Where on earth would Nelson get a thousand dollars?” Frank had been saving for years to amass enough money to pay the $14,000 bribe necessary to get promoted to Captain, and he knew how difficult it was to come by an extra $1,000. That was a goodly portion of Nelson’s annual salary, and no one paid him rewards for doing his job well, the way they did Frank.
“I don’t think he could have gotten that much money without a great deal of sacrifice,” she said, “but that doesn’t matter now.”
“Oh, it matters a great deal, Mrs. Brandt,” he contradicted her. “Because if she was blackmailing him and he couldn’t pay, he had a perfect motive for murder.”
4
FRANK WALKED SLOWLY FROM WASHINGTON SQUARE TO Anna Blake’s boardinghouse on Thompson Street, ignoring the brisk morning chill that warned of winter’s coming. He was trying to get a feel for the neighborhood and judge how long it might have taken Anna to walk from her rooming house to the Square where she died. He looked carefully around, seeing what she would have passed on her way and who might have had an opportunity to see her. The people who might have seen her or her killer weren’t here now. They’d crawled back into their hidey-holes until the sun set again.
The first thing he usually did when investigating a crime was to ask the neighbors what they saw and heard and if they knew any gossip that might help identify the guilty party. In this case, the people who might have seen Anna Blake or her killer that night weren’t the kind who’d feel any civic duty to aid the police. In fact, they’d evade him or lie if they had to, just to keep from getting involved with the police. So coming back here to question the nighttime denizens of the Square was a waste of time.
The house where Anna Blake had lived looked no different from the others on the street. Formerly a family home, it had long since been converted into cheap lodging for those who couldn’t afford a flat of their own but who earned enough to keep a decent roof over their head. Less fortunate folks would find refuge in flop houses where they could get a bed for a nickel a night or space on the floor for a few pennies. No decent woman would go into a flop house, though, and only the lowest of prostitutes frequented them. So Frank knew a lot about Anna Blake just from seeing where she lived.
Although she’d been unable to find suitable employment, she’d managed to find the three to five dollars a week she would need for room and board here, or else they would have thrown her out of the house. Frank already knew Nelson Ellsworth had been paying her rent, but she’d lived in this house before he came along to rescue her. This meant she’d had some source of income before Nelson. Supposedly, she and her mother had been penniless and unable to find work. Then the mother needed an operation, for which Nelson loaned Anna money. Had she been living on that loan? And what had happened to the mother? Buried in a pauper’s grave? Or had she ever existed at all? Interesting questions. Perhaps Anna’s landlady could shed some light on them.
But the person who answered the door wasn’t the landlady or even a lady at all. The man was of medium height, thin but with a slight paunch underneath a stylish waist-coat. A short, neat beard covered the lower half of his face. He wore a well-fitted suit, as if he had just been going out.
“Another policeman,” he said with disgust. People always seemed to know Frank was a cop.
“Detective Sergeant Frank Malloy,” Frank said by way of introduction. “And who would you be?”
“Oliver Walcott,” he replied with a long-suffering sigh. “And I’ve already told the police everything I know about poor Anna.”
“Then it’ll all be fresh in your mind,” Frank said pleasantly, forcing his way past Walcott into the front hallway. The place was well furnished and cleaner than most such houses.
“I was just going out,” Walcott protested.
“I won’t keep you long.” Frank wandered into the parlor, glancing around and taking in every detail.
Left with no choice, Walcott followed but pointedly did not offer Frank a seat. He took one anyway, on the sofa.
“You’re the landlord, I take it,” Frank said.
“My wife and I, yes,” Walcott said.
“Is your wife in?”
“No, she’s shopping, I believe. I don’t know when she’ll be back. Mrs. Walcott can spend the entire day shopping if she sets her mind to it.”
“Then I’ll come back later and talk to
Walcott surrendered with bad grace, seating himself on a chair opposite Frank, but perching on the edge, as if only planning to stay there a few moments. “Anna only lived here a few months. Three or four, I believe, although I can’t be sure. My wife could tell you exactly.”
“How long did her mother live here with her before she died?” Frank asked casually.
Walcott’s forehead creased into a frown. “Her mother?” he echoed uncertainly. “I don’t… her mother never lived here at all. She’s dead, or so I was led to believe.”
“Do you know how long ago she died?”
Walcott considered a moment. “I’m sure I don’t know exactly, but I gathered she’d been gone for a long while. Anna was all alone in the world and had been for some time.”
No dying mother. No operation. This explained a lot about Anna Blake. “Was she employed?”
“I… not that I know of. Really, Detective, you should be talking to my wife. I didn’t know Anna very well.”
“She lived in your house,” Frank reminded him.
“Yes, but
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean that I travel extensively.”
“For your business?” Frank guessed.
“No, I… that is, I simply like to travel, and do so at every opportunity.”
“What business are you in?” Frank prodded.
Again Walcott hesitated, but Frank thought he seemed slightly embarrassed. “I… I don’t have a business. You see, Mrs. Walcott’s family left her a small inheritance. Not a lot, but enough that with our income from our lodgers, I do not have to be employed. She likes staying home and taking care of our guests-I believe they substitute for the children we never had-and I am free to come and go as I please.”
“How many boarders do you have?”
“Sometimes we have three, but two usually… I mean, Anna was one of them. Catherine Porter is the other, at the moment. Now, I suppose, we only have one.”
“Then you had an empty room, but I didn’t see a sign advertising it,” Frank noted.
“Oh, we don’t put out a sign. We prefer to obtain our lodgers by recommendation. We set high standards, you see.”
“About their ability to pay, I guess.”
