run a respectable place here, Mrs. Richmond, and I told you when you come here that I don’t allow male visitors, especially Italians and coppers.”
Another voice replied but too softly for Frank to make out the words. Then a woman appeared in the parlor doorway. She was probably in her forties and had been a beauty in her youth. Her dress was far from new but of good quality, and she had wrapped a cashmere shawl tightly around her shoulders, probably to protect against the chill. He noticed a small hole in the wool near her shoulder. Still, he could tell instantly who and what she was, or rather what she had once been. She held herself erect and met his gaze squarely, the way rich people did when they wanted to put you in your place.
“Who are you?” Her well-modulated voice held the ring of authority.
“Detective Sergeant Frank Malloy of the New York City Police.”
Her eyes widened but she did a good job of pretending she wasn’t afraid. “What do you want?”
“Are you Mrs. Richmond?”
“Terry Richmond, yes.”
“I need to ask you some questions about Chilton Devries.”
Color flooded her face, but more from anger than fear, Frank judged. “Did he send you here to harass me?”
Good. She didn’t know he was dead. “No, he didn’t. Salvatore Angotti told me where to find you.”
Her composure cracked just a bit. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe we could sit down and talk for a few minutes. This won’t take long.”
She didn’t look like she believed him, but she said, “Yes, of course. Please excuse me. I’ve forgotten my manners.”
He waited until she’d chosen a chair—the one farthest from the still-open parlor door, Frank noticed. They would have to keep the door open for propriety, and the landlady might well be lurking. Frank knew the type. She’d feel it was her duty to know what went on in her house. He snagged a wooden chair from the corner and set it close to Mrs. Richmond’s so they could keep their voices low. She raised her eyebrows at this but didn’t protest. She probably didn’t want the landlady eavesdropping either.
“How long have you lived here?” he asked.
“A few weeks.” He noticed she sat on the edge of the seat, her back straight and not touching the chair, the way Mrs. Decker sat.
“I’m guessing you never had to live in a boardinghouse before.”
Her expression hardened. “I thought you wanted to ask me about Mr. Devries.”
“We’ll get to him. Angotti told me he came to see you. He told me Devries wanted him to kill you.”
She trembled, or maybe she shivered, but she didn’t speak.
“Why did Devries want you dead?”
“Why don’t you ask him that?”
“I’m asking you.”
“Why do you care?”
“Mrs. Richmond, I’m trying to be nice here, but I can just as easily send for a Black Maria and have you taken down to Police Headquarters and locked up instead.”
“You can’t lock me up! I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I can do anything I want because I’m with the police. Now are you going to answer my questions or not?”
The look she gave him could’ve drawn blood, but she said, “What do you want to know?”
“Why did Devries want you dead?”
“I don’t know. That’s the truth, Mr. Malloy,” she added when he frowned. “I had no idea he was interested in me at all until Mr. Angotti called on me last week.”
“What did Angotti tell you?”
“I…He’s such a strange man. He’s so polite and so well dressed, but he’s terrifying.”
“I guess he was if he told you he was supposed to murder you.”
“He didn’t tell me that, not at first. At first he just said Mr. Devries had sent him.”
“How do you know Devries?”
“I…My husband knew him.”
“How?”
“They were business associates.”
“But not anymore?”
“My husband is dead.”
Frank glanced meaningfully around the boardinghouse parlor. “He didn’t leave you very well off.”
“My husband was a fool.”
So much for the grieving widow. “I guess he didn’t manage his money very well.”
“Devries cheated him.”
“How did he do that?”
“I don’t understand business, Mr. Malloy, and my husband wasn’t eager to explain to me exactly how he’d been tricked into giving Devries all of our money, but it had something to do with a new railroad. My husband was quite flattered when Devries suggested he invest in the project. That’s what he called it, a
“But the railroad didn’t succeed?”
“I don’t know what happened. Something to do with stock and prices dropping. It was very confusing, and I don’t think Keith really understood either. All I know is that we lost everything.”
“What about your husband’s own business? I’m guessing he earned his living somehow before this happened.”
“He lost that, too. He’d borrowed against it, I think. He didn’t even have the courage to tell me any of this himself. I had to find out after he…died.”
“How did he die?”
“He killed himself.”
Frank winced inwardly. “And then you found out you’d lost everything.”
“I didn’t lose it. Keith did.” He could see her anger had burned itself down to a white-hot core of resentment.
“But you’re the one who had to suffer. Did you ask Devries for help?”
“Not at first. I didn’t understand how bad it was at first. Then I started getting letters from creditors, and I soon realized. I sold our house and everything in it. I even sold my jewelry and some of my clothes. Mr. Devries was very helpful. He found buyers for me, although I’m sure he managed to cheat me somehow on that, too.”
Frank suspected she was right. “And you ended up here?”
“No, I left New York and went home, to my parents’ house. My father is dead, and my mother was glad to have me with her.”
“What brought you back here?”
“My daughter needed me.”
“Your daughter?”
Frank remembered how Mrs. Decker’s face lit up whenever she talked about Sarah, but Mrs. Richmond’s face did not light up. Her eyes were bleak and her voice flat when she said, “Yes. You see, Mr. Devries had told me he was able to salvage some monies from my husband’s investments, and he arranged for me to have a small annuity. Without it I would have had nothing. You understand what that would have meant?”
He did. Women in that situation were fished out of the East River or found starved to death in their rented rooms. A young woman might survive by selling herself, but not a woman of Mrs. Richmond’s age. “That was generous of Mr. Devries. Sounds like he was trying to make it up to you for cheating your husband.”
“You must not know Mr. Devries very well. He never does anything out of the goodness of his heart, and he certainly never lets feelings of guilt influence him. This was a business transaction, pure and simple. He wanted something of mine and was willing to pay for it.”
“What did he want?”
