Murder on Fifth Avenue

he had been injured. It may even have been an accident,” Decker added, with a glance at Frank, who chose not to contradict him. Maybe it had been an accident.

“How could such a small injury have killed him, then?” Mrs. Devries seemed offended at the thought.

“I am sure the medical examiner will be able to explain that after the autopsy.”

Paul jumped to his feet. “Good God, they’re not doing an autopsy!”

“I’m afraid they must. We have to be sure what killed him, you see.”

“So there is still some doubt?” Mrs. Devries said. “He may not have been murdered at all?”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Decker said.

Frank caught his imploring glance and took a seat near Paul Devries. When Frank sat down, Paul resumed his seat as well. “When did you last see your husband, Mrs. Devries?”

She widened her eyes at him, then looked him over with disdain. “Felix, really, is this necessary?”

“I’m afraid it is. If someone murdered Chilly, you want them found, don’t you?”

Mrs. Devries seemed to consider her answer carefully, but before she replied, her son said, “Of course we do. I saw my father this morning, before he left the house. He was perfectly fine, and I saw no one attack him.”

“It must have happened after he left home. There can be no other explanation,” his mother confirmed. “No one here would have stabbed him, I can assure you of that.”

Frank looked from mother to son and back again. Had either of them realized they had not expressed the least bit of anguish or grief at hearing the head of their family was dead? “As Mr. Decker said, it may have been an accident, but we need to be sure. Who else lives here?”

“The servants, of course, and my wife,” Paul said.

“Your wife?”

Paul bristled. “You can’t think she stabbed my father in the back.”

Frank had to admit it sounded unlikely, but he hadn’t met her yet, so he would reserve judgment. “Any other family members?”

“My two daughters are married, so of course they don’t live here.”

“Can you tell me what time Mr. Devries left the house today?”

“I certainly cannot,” his wife said. “Mr. Devries comes and goes as he pleases without consulting me.”

“Do you know what his plans were for the day?”

Mrs. Devries glared at him. “I told you, Mr. Devries does as he pleases.”

Frank was starting to wish she’d gotten hysterical.

“Roderick will know. That’s his valet,” Paul said.

“I’ll need to talk with him and with your other servants, too,” Frank said.

“Is this necessary? I don’t want the household upset,” Mrs. Devries said. “My nerves won’t stand it.”

“Mother, there’s no help for it. With Papa dead—”

“Dead?” a new voice said.

They all looked up. A young woman had entered the room. She wore a simple gown, and her rich, dark hair had been brushed into an ordinary bun, but her unadorned beauty far outshone Mrs. Devries’s frippery. This must be the other Mrs. Devries.

The men rose instantly to their feet.

“Who’s dead?” she asked.

“Oh, Garnet,” Mrs. Devries said, her voice rising into a wail. “Mr. Decker has come to tell us poor Papa is dead.” The tears Frank had expected earlier began to flow, making him wonder if she’d just been waiting for the right audience.

Paul immediately went to comfort his mother, leaving his wife to her own devices. She looked at Felix Decker. “Is it true? Is the old man really dead?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to say.”

Frank watched the emotions flicker across her face too rapidly for him to identify, and then to his surprise, she broke into a dazzling smile. “He’s dead,” she said with what could only be called exultation, and she began to laugh.

2

NOW THIS WAS AN INTERESTING REACTION TO NEWS OF A family member’s death. It also drew Paul’s attention away from his mother. For a few seconds they all stared at Garnet Devries. She must be hysterical, but the only cure Frank knew was to slap her, and slapping Garnet Devries would not improve his chances of interviewing the rest of the family more thoroughly. Fortunately, Felix Decker had no such concerns.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a shake that snapped her head back. Her laughter ceased at once, and she gazed up at him in surprise for a moment before she went limp. Decker caught her before she could fall, and Paul rushed over. Together they got her into a chair. Her color was high, and her eyes glittered from some inner fire.

“Get her some brandy,” Decker told Paul.

“Good heavens, not brandy,” Mrs. Devries said. “Sherry should do the trick.”

Paul went to a sideboard and found whatever he had decided to give his wife. He brought it back in a crystal tumbler. Frank expected him to put the glass to her lips, but he merely held it out to her at arm’s length. She didn’t even notice it.

Decker took the glass and put it to her lips. She wrapped her hands over his while she sipped, coughed a bit, then sipped again before looking up at him. “Thank you, Mr. Decker. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s the shock, I’m sure,” Decker said.

It might be more than that. Frank had never seen anyone laugh when they found out a loved one was dead.

“The shock, of course,” Mrs. Devries said. Frank noticed she’d forgotten she was supposed to be crying. “I feel rather faint myself. Poor Chilly. And what an undignified way to go. Stabbed, you say? I can hardly credit it.”

Garnet’s head came up. “Stabbed? What do you mean, stabbed?”

“They think someone stabbed Father.”

“Stabbed him where?” she asked.

“In the back, apparently,” Paul said.

She sighed. “No, I mean where was he when it happened?”

Paul and his mother exchanged a glance, then looked at Decker, who turned to Frank.

“We don’t know when or where it happened. The wound was small. He probably didn’t know he was seriously hurt, but he died later from the injury.”

“Who are you?” she asked, and Frank noticed the abrupt question didn’t sound rude coming from her.

“Frank Malloy.”

“He’s a policeman,” Paul added.

Garnet looked Frank over but showed none of the disdain her mother-in-law had exhibited. “He doesn’t look like a policeman. Where’s his uniform?”

“I’m a detective sergeant with the city police.”

“Mr. Malloy is investigating Chilly’s death,” Decker added.

She considered this information. “If you don’t know when or where he was stabbed, how are you going to investigate?”

“It won’t be easy,” Frank admitted with a small smile.

To his amazement, she smiled back. For a second he was afraid she might start laughing again, but she didn’t. “I think you like things that aren’t easy, Mr. Malloy.”

Frank wasn’t sure what he should say to that. Luckily, Decker saved him from having to think of something. “Perhaps you could arrange for Mr. Malloy to question Roderick and the other servants, Lucretia.”

“Must he do it now? They’ll be no good to anyone for the rest of the day if he upsets them.”