there.”
“Who?”
“His mistress.”
“I CAN HARDLY BELIEVE IT,” ELIZABETH DECKER SAID TO Sarah as they stood together in the entryway, having just seen Felix Decker out. “Your father has given both of us permission to investigate Chilly Devries’s murder.”
“I believe he actually
“You may be right, but I feel obligated to misunderstand him if it serves my interests.”
“Until he finds out and locks you in the cellar.”
“Then we’ll have to make sure he doesn’t find out.”
“Did Mr. Decker leave?” Maeve called from the top of the stairs.
“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Decker replied. “Could you get the tea things ready again? I’ll be right up.” She turned back to Sarah. “I’ll stop by for you in the morning, and we can make our plans on the way over to Lucretia’s house. This evening, I’ll try to find out what else your father knows.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to come to you in the morning?”
“Probably, but we’ll need to plan what we’re going to ask her, and I don’t want to take the chance that your father will stay at home tomorrow. We couldn’t possibly speak freely if he’s around.”
“I can’t wait to meet this Garnet Devries. She sounds like an interesting woman.”
“I hope so. Her mother-in-law is an insufferable bore. One of those women whose only concern is herself. She’ll thoroughly enjoy being a widow, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she’ll get attention from her friends; she’ll have her husband’s money to spend, but she won’t have to put up with him anymore.”
“Was Mr. Devries a bore, too?”
“No worse than many of the men your father knows, I suppose. I’ve often wondered how they amuse themselves at that club of theirs since none of them has the slightest idea how to have a good time.”
Sarah bit back a smile. “What I don’t understand is why Father is so interested in Mr. Devries’s death.”
“Because it happened at the Knickerbocker, of course. He’s the club secretary, I believe. Or treasurer. Something like that. He feels responsible, I’m sure. What concerns me is that he has involved Mr. Malloy.”
Sarah frowned. “Of course he would involve Malloy. He wants the murder solved, and he knows Malloy is the man to do it.”
“Does he?”
“Of course he does. Malloy is the best detective in New York.”
Her mother arched an eyebrow. “Is he now? But that isn’t what I meant. I meant, does your father really want the murder solved? I’m guessing he doesn’t know that himself yet, although I’ll grant you he knows Malloy has the skill to discover the killer. The question is what your father will do with the information once he learns it.”
“Father doesn’t have to do anything with it. The police will arrest the killer and bring him to trial.”
Mrs. Decker shook her head. “Sarah, where did you get an idea like that?”
“Because it’s the law!”
“If your father doesn’t want the killer arrested, he won’t be. You should know that as well as I.”
“All right, I do, but if Father doesn’t want the killer arrested, why did he involve Malloy at all?”
“That is what concerns me. If he wanted the crime ignored, he could have done that without anyone’s help. Instead, he called in the one man he is sure can solve it.”
“Perhaps you aren’t giving Father enough credit. Perhaps he simply wants to see justice done.”
“And perhaps your father has another goal entirely.”
“Such as?”
“Such as putting Frank Malloy to some sort of test. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a tea party to attend.”
FRANK STARED AT RODERICK. “HIS MISTRESS?”
Roderick shrugged.
Frank retrieved a small notebook and pencil from his pocket. “Where is this house again?”
Roderick gave him the address. “The young lady who lives there is Miss Norah English. I doubt that’s her real name, but that’s what she calls herself.”
“How do you know all this?”
Roderick seemed to find the question somewhat insulting. “I have been Mr. Devries’s valet for thirty-two years. I know everything about him.”
So much for his claim that Devries kept his own counsel. “When did he get home this morning?”
“He came in around nine, I believe. He wanted a bath and a shave. He always does when he returns from visiting Miss English.”
“Did you help him with his bath?”
He acted insulted again. “I always help him.”
“I’m just trying to find out if you noticed a wound on his back.”
Roderick frowned. “Where would it have been located?”
Frank half turned and reached around to touch his thumb to the approximate spot on his own back. “Like I said, it was small.”
“I didn’t notice anything, but …”
“But what?”
“He might have put some sticking plaster on it, mightn’t he? To keep it from bleeding? That could be why I didn’t notice.”
Roderick seemed very eager to implicate the mistress. “Is this Miss English the kind of girl who might stick a knife into Mr. Devries?”
“She’s the kind of girl who might do anything.”
Frank considered this information for a long moment. “Does Mrs. Devries know about Miss English?”
“Ladies of Mrs. Devries’s station make a point of ignoring women like Miss English.”
“So you think she knows but has decided not to make a fuss.”
“I believe that would be an accurate assumption, yes.”
“Do Mr. and Mrs. Devries get along?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, do they fight?”
“Certainly not.”
“At least not where the help can hear.”
Roderick winced. “The staff can hear everything. They simply don’t speak to each other as a general rule. At least, Mr. Devries tries to avoid speaking with her whenever possible.”
“Is it usually possible?”
“Mrs. Devries occasionally attempts to have a conversation with her husband.”
“Did she attempt to have a conversation with him this morning?”
Roderick hesitated, and Frank figured he was trying to decide whether to lie or not. “I believe she did,” he said finally.
“Did anyone else have a conversation with him?”
Roderick rubbed his palms along his thighs, as if to dry them. “Mr. Paul Devries sought him out as well, I believe.”
“Any idea what they talked about?”
“No.”
Roderick had just told him the staff heard everything, but Frank let the lie pass for now. Paul Devries would probably admit it himself. He didn’t look like a very good liar. “Mr. Devries had a busy morning. Did he meet with anybody else? Any visitors, maybe?”
