Murder on Fifth Avenue

“From Mr. Malloy, of course. Didn’t I just say so?”

Sarah noticed Mrs. Devries was turning an unbecoming shade of purple. “From the policeman himself? I can’t believe Felix allows you to associate with someone like that!”

“Mr. Malloy is a family friend,” her mother said.

“A policeman is a family friend?”

Sarah felt the heat rising in her own face at the sting of Mrs. Devries’s contempt. How dare she judge Frank Malloy? But, of course, most everyone in the city would judge him exactly the same way. The police were, in many ways, no better than the criminals they chased. How was anyone to know that Frank Malloy was any different from the beat cop who collected protection money from the brothels or the police chief who collected bribes from politicians?

“Mr. Malloy has assisted my father on several important matters,” Sarah said. “Father specifically asked him to find out what happened to your husband.”

“And you see how much good it did,” Mrs. Devries said. “Five days have gone by, and we don’t know any more than we did before.”

“We know he was stabbed when he was naked,” Sarah said, taking perverse pleasure in Mrs. Devries’s shock.

“How can you possibly know that?”

“You’ll have to discuss that with Mr. Malloy, I’m sure,” her mother hastily replied, giving Sarah an exasperated glance.

“But he must have told you why he thinks so,” Mrs. Devries said. “What a horrible thing to say, and if it’s true …” She looked from Sarah to her mother and back again. “If it’s true, then Roderick must have done it.”

“Who’s Roderick?” her mother asked.

“His valet. That’s it. He’s the one who dressed Chilly every day. He’s the only one who ever saw him undressed.” Mrs. Devries sat back in her chair and folded her hands with a satisfied nod.

“Are you quite sure?” Sarah’s mother asked with a confused frown that didn’t fool Sarah for an instant. “I understand he wasn’t yet dressed when he had a rather heated discussion with Paul that morning.”

Mrs. Devries started turning purple again. “Who told you such a thing? Your policeman, I suppose.”

“Yes, but I don’t know who might have told him,” Sarah lied. She knew Mrs. Devries had also visited her husband when he was undressed, but she waited to see if the woman would admit it.

“No one would have told him such a thing!” she said instead.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t have made it up,” Sarah said.

“Paul himself probably told him,” Sarah’s mother said, apparently trying to be helpful.

Mrs. Devries glared at her. “Nonsense! It was Roderick! He’s always been a sly one. I’ve never trusted him myself, and now look, he’s spreading all kinds of lies about our family.”

“Why would he do that?” her mother asked.

“Why do people like him do anything? They hate us, that’s why. They’re jealous of anyone who’s better than they are.”

Sarah doubted the Devries family was truly better than their servants in any way, but she didn’t think Mrs. Devries would appreciate hearing her explain why she thought so.

Sarah’s mother was shaking her head. “I would sleep with one eye open if I thought my servants hated me.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, you know I’m right. I told you, I think Roderick is the one who stabbed Chilly, and the more I think about it, the more convinced I am. And here I’ve kept him on even though he no longer has a thing to do with Chilly gone. I should have turned him out the instant I heard Chilly was dead. That’s what I get for being so softhearted.”

Sarah was sure no one had ever accused Mrs. Devries of being softhearted, and she certainly had no reason to accuse the poor valet of murdering her husband. “I can’t imagine Mr. Devries would have allowed his valet to stab him and not have raised an alarm.”

“Sarah’s right,” her mother said. “That makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense to me,” Mrs. Devries said. “That was Chilly. He allowed the servants too much freedom. He left it to me to enforce whatever trace of discipline we managed to maintain here. I doubt he would have raised an alarm if one of the servants tried to cut his throat!”

Sarah and her mother exchanged a horrified glance, but Mrs. Devries didn’t appear to notice. She had noticed Sarah’s basket again. Sarah had set it on the floor at her feet, hoping it wouldn’t attract attention, but Mrs. Devries frowned at it.

“What on earth do you have in that basket?”

“Nothing.” Before Mrs. Devries could pursue the matter, Sarah rose and snatched up the basket in question. “I’m afraid I must be going, Mrs. Devries. I have another appointment. Mother, I don’t suppose you could give me a lift?”

Sarah’s mother rose as well. “I’d be delighted, my dear. I was just leaving myself when we saw you on the stairs. Lucretia, thank you again for your hospitality.”

Left with no choice, Mrs. Devries got up and rang for the maid again. “I suppose I’ll see you at the funeral, Elizabeth.”

“Of course.”

“I’m dreading it so. I only hope I can hold up. I’m nearly prostrate with grief, you know. You can’t imagine how shocking it was, losing Chilly in such a way.”

“I’m sure it was difficult for Paul, too,” her mother said, reminding Sarah what Malloy had told them about the way Paul and his mother had reacted to the news of Chilton Devries’s death.

Mrs. Devries looked at her sharply, as if trying to judge her sincerity. “Of course it was, but Paul will be fine. Men don’t feel things the way women do, do they?”

“I don’t know about that,” Sarah’s mother said, but just then the maid knocked and opened the door. The ladies made their farewells to Mrs. Devries and managed to escape without having to answer any more awkward questions.

When they were back in the carriage, Sarah asked, “Were you able to learn anything interesting from Mrs. Devries?”

“Heavens no, not until you came in. She just kept complaining about the funeral arrangements and how tedious it all was. Can you believe she accused the poor valet of stabbing Chilton?”

“I’m feeling guilty about that, and Malloy will probably be furious.”

“Why would he be furious?”

“Because I revealed that we suspect Devries was naked when he was stabbed.”

Her mother frowned. “Why would that matter?”

“Because it narrows down the circumstances and the times when he could have been stabbed, which means Malloy knows it probably happened at his home or when he was with Miss English.”

“If Lucretia even knows about Miss English.”

“Do you think she does?”

“I’m sure she’d never admit it to me if she did, but I don’t know how she could have failed to notice how many nights he spent away from home.”

Her mother was probably right. But Miss English was the least of her worries. “What Malloy will chasten me about is that if the killer is someone at the Devrieses’ house, I revealed that we know it was someone who was with Devries when he was undressed.”

“I see, and because the number of people who did is small, the killer will know we suspect him.”

“Or her.”

“Oh, yes,” her mother agreed. “We mustn’t eliminate Lucretia as a possible killer. I can too easily imagine her plunging an ice pick into Chilton.”

“Mother!”

“Oh, come now, Sarah. Can’t you?”

Sarah had to admit she could, but she said, “I’m just afraid she’s going to dismiss the valet now that I’ve reminded her of him.”

“Oh, I’m sure she will. You heard what she said. I’d wager he knows more about Chilton’s death than he