Murder On Astor Place

“Perhaps she kept it a secret until it was too late. By the time she ran away, she was too far along to pretend the child was conceived in wedlock, so her family had sent her to the country until after it was born. They could dispose of the child and still marry her to Mattingly. She’d be even more compliant, knowing the price she’d already paid.”

“That’s crazy,” Frank protested. “Why would they be that eager for her to marry that old son of a…” He caught himself just in time, although he doubted Sarah Brandt would be too shocked to hear him swear.

“I suspect it’s some kind of a debt. A debt of honor, perhaps, that would be even more binding than a financial debt. Or it might even be some type of blackmail. If Mattingly handles Mr. VanDamm’s business affairs, he would know things that might better be kept secret. Powerful men have been using their daughters to settle business arrangements for centuries, Mr. Malloy.”

Frank pushed his hat back on his head and took a few more paces, wishing he had some room to really walk. He needed to walk to figure this out. None of it was making any sense, at least to him.

“But it’s useless to think about it now,” she said after a moment.

He looked up in surprise, pausing in mid-stride. “Why?”

She looked just as surprised. “Because you’ve been taken off the case. I guess this means that no one else will be investigating it, either.”

“No one in the department,” he said, watching her closely to see if she would get the implication.

Another woman would have looked away, but Sarah Brandt met his gaze steadily, her blue-gray eyes dark with questions. She did not disappoint him. “Who else would be investigating it, then?”

“Maybe somebody who has a personal interest in finding Alicia VanDamm’s killer. Somebody who wants to see justice done and who maybe wants a little revenge, too. Somebody who knew her when she was a kid.”

Her eyes grew wide with surprise. “I’m not a detective!”

Frank couldn’t hide his disgust. “You’ve been working as hard on this case as I have,” he reminded her. “Finding out a lot of information, too.” He was amazed to realize that admitting this caused him no discomfort at all.

And she wasn’t as difficult to convince as he had thought. In fact, she seemed pleased. “Do you really think…? I mean, what could I do?”

That was the question, of course. Frank scratched his head, then settled his hat more firmly. “You could keep asking questions, just like you have been. You could go back to the VanDamms and find out what they’re saying. Tell them how distressed you are that the police aren’t looking for Alicia’s killer anymore. You could even go to some of the abortionists and see if they’ll tell you anything they wouldn’t tell me.”

She was staring at him now. Not merely listening intently to what he was saying but openly staring, as if she’d suddenly noticed something about him she’d never seen before. Somehow resisting the urge to make sure he was all buttoned up properly, he glared at her. “What’s the matter?”

She smiled like a cat with its head in the cream pitcher, setting Frank’s teeth on edge. “I just realized that you must want to see Alicia’s murder solved as much as I do.”

“Is that so hard to believe?” Frank hated the tone of defensiveness he heard in his own voice.

“I already told you, I know how the police work, Mr. Malloy. They aren’t interested in solving crimes unless there’s something in it for them. I’m not accusing you of anything,” she said quickly, when he would have protested. “I’m just stating a fact. I even understand it. Police officers aren’t paid very handsomely, so naturally, ambitious men will always be eager to improve their lot. Didn’t you say something about making Captain?”

What did she know about it? Frank wished he could afford the luxury of simple ambition. His motivations for gaining advancement were far more ordinary. She didn’t need to know that, though.

“That’s right,” he said. “I want to be a captain, and I’m improving my chances by not investigating this case anymore.”

“Yet you still want to see it solved. May I ask you why?”

Frank didn’t have to tell her a thing, he knew, but if he didn’t, she might not want to do what he was asking. And he very much wanted her to, although he didn’t allow himself to consider his real motives too closely. “Probably for the same reason you do, Mrs. Brandt. As far as I can tell, Alicia VanDamm was a nice girl who deserved a chance in life. She never got that chance, and I want to find out why. I’d also like to see the person who killed her get punished, especially if it’s any of the people I’ve met so far.”

His answer seemed to please her. “I’d like to see them all punished,” she admitted. “I think when we find her killer, we’ll discover that more than one person was involved in her death, even if it was just because their selfishness put her in danger in the first place. But suppose I do find out who killed her or at least find some information that would help. What good will it do if the police won’t arrest the killer?”

“I’ve been thinking about this, and I guess there’s only one thing you can do. You can take your story to Commissioner Roosevelt.”

“Roosevelt? Why?”

“Because he’s determined to clean up the department. He’d love a scandal like this, and he’d love forcing the superintendent to investigate the murder of a poor, innocent girl, especially if he didn’t want to. The press would love it, too.”

“The newspapers?” Plainly, this did not please her. “Why would we have to involve them?”

“Because Roosevelt loves publicity. Why do you think he travels around the city at night with a newspaper reporter?” he asked, referring to Roosevelt’s habit of prowling in the darkness accompanied by Jacob Riis, checking to make sure policemen were at their posts. “Not only is he trying to find cops neglecting their duty, he wants to have his own personal reporter with him to put the story in the paper. Alicia’s story would rouse public opinion like nothing else he’s done so far, so the police couldn’t ignore Roosevelt, even if they wanted to. They’d have to take some action, and Roosevelt would look like some kind of champion.”

“And justice will be done.”

Frank only wished he believed in justice. Then he remembered what Conlin had said, and he knew what he really wanted was revenge. “Alicia’s killer will be punished,” he corrected her.

She nodded, understanding his unspoken message. “Alicia will still be dead, so there can be no true justice. But at least there can be some punishment.”

Frank fervently hoped so. He could think of so many people who deserved it. “Then you’ll do it?”

She looked surprised that he would even ask. “Of course I will. I just… I’m not sure I know where to start.”

“You’ve already started, Mrs. Brandt. You just have to keep on.”

9

SARAH READILY ADMITTED SHE WAS FLATTERED BY Frank Malloy’s request that she investigate Alicia’s murder. She would never admit it to him, of course, but she was, nonetheless. She was almost as flattered as she was outraged by Malloy’s news that his superiors had taken him off the case. She could understand if he wasn’t doing a good job or if they were merely assigning such an important case to someone with more seniority or some such thing. But to simply tell him the case was closed without any intention of ever finding Alicia’s killer was more than she could bear. What choice did she have but to accept the challenge of solving Alicia’s murder herself?

She hadn’t mentioned to Malloy how she had fantasized about being a detective. She also hadn’t mentioned how she had once questioned his dedication to finding Alicia’s killer. Whatever she might have thought of him before, he had vindicated himself by his request. And she wasn’t even counting the fact that he had entrusted a “mere” female with the task, but if she had, it would have counted heavily in his favor. If she wasn’t careful, she might start to think well of Malloy. Or at least not quite so badly.

But all of that could wait for another day when she had the time and energy to think about such things at her leisure. In the meantime she had a murderer to catch. She and Malloy had discussed possible courses of action, and the one that seemed most logical to Sarah was a return to the Higgins house where it had all started.

Today was going to be even hotter than yesterday, and the newspaper was starting to talk about a heat wave. If this was only April, what would July be like? In spite of the building heat, she found Mrs. Higgins in the kitchen preparing the noon meal for her lodgers. She would’ve preferred finding the new mother still in bed, but a quick