Murder on Fifth Avenue

admitted to Mr. Malloy, too.”

“If anyone knows anything, he’s the one. We should let Malloy know she’s thinking about letting him go. He might be difficult to find if she did, and I’m sure Malloy doesn’t want to waste time tracking him down later.”

The carriage stopped, then swayed as the driver hopped down from his perch and opened the door. “We’re here, Mrs. Decker.”

Sarah and her mother stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of one of the dozens of tearooms that had sprung up around the city. They provided safe, respectable places for ladies to gather to gossip with their friends, which wasn’t so very different from what they were planning to use it for themselves today.

Inside they found Frank Malloy trying to be inconspicuous behind a newspaper and failing miserably. As the only male on the premises, he would have been an object of curiosity to the other patrons, but because he also happened to be so obviously not the sort of gentleman the ladies here encountered, he had become fascinating. The room was abuzz with conversation and sly glances in his direction, but when the other ladies realized Sarah and her mother were heading for him, the room fell eerily silent.

Spotting them, Malloy lowered his newspaper and folded it with exaggerated care as they approached his table at the far back of the room. He laid it down and stood to greet them.

All the other women in the room began whispering behind their hands again, and Malloy rolled his eyes.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Sarah said, trying very hard not to grin at his obvious discomfort.

“At least a day and a half.” He nodded at Mrs. Decker, who grinned in unabashed delight at his predicament. He pulled out chairs for them. They were delicate and gilt. Sarah wondered that any of them could hold his weight.

A young girl hurried over and took their order for tea and scones. Malloy requested a refill on his coffee.

When she was gone, Sarah said, “I did something stupid.”

He raised his eyebrows and leaned back as far as he dared in the fragile chair. “Is that right?”

“I let it slip to Mrs. Devries that we know her husband was undressed when he was stabbed.”

“And how did that subject happen to come up?”

Sarah winced a bit at the memory. “Mrs. Devries was annoying me.”

He smiled slightly. “How did she do that?”

“If you must know,” her mother said, “she was criticizing your ability to solve the case, and Sarah came to your defense.”

“I’m touched.”

He didn’t look it. “She said you hadn’t made any progress, so without thinking, I informed her that you certainly had and you knew Devries was undressed when he was stabbed, and I know it was foolish because if the killer is in that house, he’ll know—”

“Or she’ll know,” her mother said.

“Mother wants Mrs. Devries to be the killer,” Sarah explained.

“So do I,” Malloy confided to Mrs. Decker, making her grin.

Sarah sighed. “At any rate, now she knows that you know Devries was naked.”

“That isn’t exactly true,” Malloy said.

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“It means we haven’t found any of his clothes with a matching hole, but maybe the killer got rid of them. Or maybe he wasn’t wearing any. So we don’t really know for sure.”

“Oh, my,” Mrs. Decker said. “No wonder you enjoy this so much, Sarah. It’s quite challenging to figure it all out, isn’t it?”

“I don’t enjoy this,” Sarah said.

Her mother glared at her with disapproval, the way she used to do when Sarah was small and told a lie.

“At any rate, I told her,” Sarah continued doggedly. “I know I shouldn’t have.”

He shrugged, as if it was of no consequence. “Did you find out anything useful from Garnet?”

Sarah described her conversation with the young woman.

“She’s a very strange girl,” her mother said.

“I’m sure I’d be acting strangely in her situation, too. She must feel she has no one to whom she can turn.”

“Surely, her mother will be a comfort to her.”

“I’m sure she’ll try, but she can’t offer much more than that.”

“I wish I could feel more sympathy for her, but a woman who doesn’t want her own child…It’s unnatural.”

“I’ve been trying to see things from her perspective, but the more I think about it, the more confused I become. She knows about Paul’s, uh, preference for other men and is apparently appalled by it, so much so that she can’t bear the thought of having his child. Yet when she speaks of him, she seems actually fond of him.”

“As I said, she’s a strange girl.”

Sarah realized Malloy had made no comment about Garnet. “What are you thinking?”

“Something unthinkable. Did you find out anything interesting from Mrs. Devries?”

“Oh, my, yes. Sarah, tell him about the valet.”

“Mrs. Devries said she thinks the valet stabbed Devries.”

“Why would she think that?”

“Oh, I don’t believe she really does,” Sarah’s mother said. “I think she has decided that solution would cause her the least inconvenience.”

“She also said she should have dismissed him as soon as Devries died, since he doesn’t have anything to do now, but Mother and I think he probably knows more than he’s told you so far, so if you’re going to question him again, you should do it before she puts him out.”

“I didn’t think about her dismissing him,” Malloy said. “Wouldn’t Paul need a valet?”

“He probably has his own.”

The girl arrived with their order, and they spent a few minutes pouring tea and buttering scones.

“What will you do now, Mr. Malloy?” Sarah’s mother asked.

“Go back to the Devrieses’ house, I suppose. I’ll need to put the fear of God into Roderick and find out what he hasn’t told me so far. And then—”

“If you need someone to question Miss English again, Sarah and I would be happy to do so.” Sarah’s mother smiled innocently.

Malloy looked aghast, and Sarah almost choked on her tea.

“You’ve done more than enough already, Mrs. Decker,” Malloy said after taking a moment, probably to choose the right words.

“Nonsense. I’ve hardly done anything at all.”

“You’ve done more than your husband would approve of,” he said.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t be shocked to discover that, Mr. Malloy. I’ve often done more than he approves of.”

“Yes,” Sarah said, “but this time he will blame Malloy, not you.”

That silenced her, but if she were concerned about getting Malloy in trouble with her husband, her expression did not reflect it.

“I suppose I should wait until after supper to call on the valet,” Malloy said, checking his pocket watch.

“You’ll attract less attention from the Devries family that way, I think,” Sarah said. “They won’t be going out this evening since they’re in mourning, but they won’t be making many demands on the servants at that hour, even if they’re at home, so they won’t even have to know you’re there.”

With that settled, Malloy finished his coffee and took his leave, thanking them for their assistance.

“I’m so sorry to have subjected you to the scrutiny of so many ladies,” Sarah’s mother said with another of her innocent smiles. “Perhaps next time we should arrange to meet you in a saloon.”

“I’ll be sure to suggest that to your husband, Mrs. Decker,” he replied.

BY THE TIME FRANK RETURNED TO THE DEVRIESES’ HOUSE, the winter darkness had