Murder on Fifth Avenue

instituted many reforms in the department, but he’d left a few months earlier for a job in Washington, D.C.

“Everything is different, but with all the Italians in the city, it’s still good to have some cops on the force who know the language and the neighborhood.”

“Are things different for you?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, his voice held no emotion. “Having Felix Decker ask for me by name will keep me in good graces for a while. Now, you were asking about Angotti.”

“Yes, did you find out why Devries went to see him?”

“Devries wanted Angotti to kill a woman for him.”

“Good heavens! You can’t be serious!”

“I’m perfectly serious. Devries wanted this woman, a Mrs. Richmond, murdered, and he tried to hire Angotti to do it.”

“Why on earth did he want someone murdered?”

“I don’t know yet. I have to go see this Mrs. Richmond to find out.”

“Then Angotti didn’t kill her?”

“He claimed he didn’t. He said when he heard her story, he decided she didn’t deserve to be killed and told Devries his decision on the day he died.”

“Do you suppose there’s a chance Devries went to see Mrs. Richmond and took his clothes off for some reason?”

“I did think he might’ve tried to kill her himself and got stabbed in the process, but I won’t know until I see Mrs. Richmond.”

“She isn’t likely to admit to something like that, especially if she knows he’s dead now.”

“Let’s hope she doesn’t. It hasn’t been in the papers yet.”

“Do you have any idea why Devries wanted her dead?”

“None. Angotti wasn’t going to help me any more than he had to.”

“I’m sorry I can’t help you more.”

“I’m not. You’re already more involved in this than you should be.”

“Maybe I could call on Garnet again, just to see how she’s doing.”

“Somebody in that house might be a killer.”

“They wouldn’t have any idea I was helping with the investigation, though. I’m just a concerned friend.”

“Sarah …”

“All right, all right. But if Garnet calls on me again, I’m not going to turn her away.”

Malloy didn’t roll his eyes, but she suspected he wanted to.

“What are you going to do today?” she asked.

“Go see Mrs. Richmond, and if she doesn’t confess to stabbing Devries, then I’ll go see Miss English again and ask if any of Devries’s clothes have holes in them.”

“That should be interesting. And if neither woman confesses, what will you do next?”

“Go see your father, tell him Mrs. Richmond’s story, and find out if he wants me to quit.”

“Quit? Why would he want you to quit?”

“So I don’t embarrass the family.”

Sarah couldn’t believe it. “Yes, I’m sure it would be terribly embarrassing to find out Mrs. Devries killed her husband.”

Malloy grinned. “I don’t think he’s afraid of that. He’s afraid I’ll find out even worse things about the Devrieses than I already have and his family will have to live with the shame of it, whether I find the real killer or not.”

“I suppose I should be proud of my father for being so considerate.”

“You may not like Mrs. Devries, but what about Garnet? Did she do anything to deserve a scandal? Or Paul?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Stop pouting.”

“I’m not—” Sarah caught herself when she saw his grin. “Malloy, I think you’re enjoying this case.”

His grin faded. “Truthfully, I’m not. I don’t like anything about it.”

“Do you normally like murder cases?”

“Not like, but…I don’t know how to explain it. The whole thing makes me uneasy, like I’m going to find out something I shouldn’t find out. Something nobody should find out. When your father said he was thinking about putting an end to it, I was actually relieved.”

“You were just relieved that you wouldn’t have to work with my father anymore.”

To her surprise, he shook his head. “I would’ve thought that was true, too, before I worked with him, but he’s …”

“He’s what?” Sarah found herself intensely interested in his opinion of her father.

“Reasonable.”

Sarah’s jaw dropped again, and she didn’t even bother to close it. “I would never describe my father as reasonable. You know very well how unreasonable he can be.”

“Yes, I do, but in this…Well, maybe he’s changed. Tragedy can change a man.”

It could change a woman, too. The tragedy of her sister’s death had changed Sarah from a careless girl to the woman she was today. Could it have changed her father, albeit more slowly? She would like to think so. “Maybe I should discuss the case with him.”

He grinned. “Be sure to include your mother. It will save him the trouble of having to tell her everything you talked about later.”

FRANK WASN’T SURE HOW EARLY WAS TOO EARLY TO CALL on Mrs. Richmond, but he couldn’t imagine it mattered. He wouldn’t be welcome at any time, so he went straight to the address Angotti had given him when he left Sarah’s house. The once-respectable neighborhood was slowly going to seed as immigrants moved whole families into one or two rooms of what had formerly been a single-family home. The address Frank sought was a large house badly in need of paint. A sign in the front window said ROOMS TO RENT. Mrs. Richmond had fallen on hard times if she had to take in boarders.

A harried woman of middle years answered his knock—the bell no longer worked. Although she wore an apron, she was clearly the lady of the house and not a maid. She looked him up and down. “I only rent to ladies.”

“Mrs. Richmond?” he asked.

She planted her fists on her ample hips. “No, I’m not Mrs. Richmond, and what would you be wanting with her?”

Frank decided not to embarrass Mrs. Richmond if he didn’t have to, so he didn’t mention he was with the police. “I have a business matter to discuss with her. Is she at home?”

“Where else do you think she would be?”

“Would you tell her she has a visitor?”

“What do I look like, her social secretary? I don’t allow any men in the house except in the front parlor. I run a respectable place, so no funny business.” Before Frank could manage a reply, she started walking away, muttering under her breath. She walked like someone whose feet hurt. When she was halfway down the hall, she called back over her shoulder, “Well, come on in and close the door. You’re letting in the cold.”

Frank did as instructed, closing the door carefully. The hallway was indeed just as cold as outside. Faded wallpaper curled at the edges, and the floor could have used a good scrubbing. Frank had misjudged. Mrs. Richmond wasn’t taking in boarders. She was a boarder. Many respectable women who had fallen on hard times lived in places like this, along with shopgirls and teachers and others whose wages didn’t allow them the luxury of having their own place. He was glad he hadn’t brought Mrs. Decker along.

He found what must be the front parlor, a shabby room full of worn-out furniture. He didn’t want to risk any of it, so he was still standing with his coat on when he heard footsteps in the hall. This room was cold, too. There was no fire in the grate.

“I don’t know who he is,” the woman who had answered the door said, making no effort to keep her voice down. “He ain’t that Italian, if that’s what you’re wondering. This one’s Irish and a copper if I don’t miss my guess. I