Murder In Chelsea Part 17

"You'd best not try Mr. Malloy's patience, Mr. Wilbanks," Decker said mildly. "What did he say to her?"

Ozzie cleared his throat. "Well, he said something to the effect . . . I mean, I don't remember the exact words but something like, if she married my father, she would regret it for the rest of her life."

"And did he indicate the rest of her life might not be very long?" Frank asked.

"I think he may have," Ozzie said unsteadily, then tried to take another drink from his empty gla.s.s. "You understand that I didn't approve of his actions, but there's no controlling Terrance when he sets his mind to something. We just meant to save my father from himself. n.o.body marries his mistress. He'd be a laughingstock."

"But rich men have been known to marry chorus girls," Decker said.

"n.o.body in the Van Horn family has," Ozzie said.

And that was when Frank really understood the problem. "Your wife didn't want a chorus girl in the family."

"And especially not her b.a.s.t.a.r.d child," Ozzie said. "You should understand, Mr. Decker. My wife comes from an old, respected family. She simply couldn't bear the thought."

Frank wondered how she bore the thought of marrying into the Wilbanks family, but maybe their money had helped ease the pain. "So Cousin Terrance . . . he's not a Van Horn?"

"On his mother's side."

Frank nodded as if that explained everything. "So Cousin Terrance threatened Emma and she left town."

"Oh, no, not at all."

"But you said he threatened her," Decker said.

"He did, or at least he tried, but Emma just laughed at him the same way she'd laughed at me. Then she called us names and told us to get out of her house or she'd tell my father we tried to rape her and then we'd find out what he was capable of, so we left."

"But she did leave town shortly after that," Decker said.

"I don't know what she did after that. All I know is my father stopped going to see her, and then he got ill, and that's the last I heard of Emma Hardy and her brat until Michael told me the other day that she was back in the city."

"And when did he tell you that?" Frank asked, as if the answer didn't matter.

"I don't know. A few days ago, I guess. Now I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I have an appointment, and I'm afraid I'm already late."

When they were back in the carriage, Decker said, "How much of that do you believe?"

"Most of it. Ozzie Wilbanks is a terrible liar, so it's easy to tell what's true and what's not."

"But?"

Frank smiled in approval at Decker's perception. "But he told me some things he didn't realize."

"For instance?"

"For instance, Michael Hicks was apparently keeping much closer tabs on Emma Hardy than David Wilbanks knew."

"So you think it really was Wilbanks's investigator who found Emma when she was on tour?"

"Yes, and for some reason Hicks didn't tell Wilbanks."

Decker frowned. "And Hicks apparently knew Emma was back in the city, but he didn't tell Wilbanks that either. I wonder why."

"Why don't we ask him?"

SARAH WENT EARLY TO HER MOTHER'S HOUSE SO SHE could visit with Catherine and have the noon meal with her before she and her mother left for their "morning" visit with Gilda Wilbanks. Sarah was both pleased and dismayed to hear what a wonderful time Catherine was having in the Decker household, where every servant doted on her and her every wish was instantly granted. Leaving her was difficult but at least she knew Catherine was safe and in good hands, even if she was being hopelessly spoiled.

Since her father hadn't returned the carriage yet and the day was fine, Sarah and her mother decided to walk the few blocks to the Wilbanks home. Sarah's mother presented her card to the maid and asked to see Mrs. Wilbanks on an important family matter. They weren't sure Gilda knew who they were, but the maid came back and escorted them upstairs to the rear parlor.

This room was the less formal parlor the family would use every day, although the furnis.h.i.+ngs were still expensive and elegant. A lovely young woman in a becoming bottle green gown came forward to meet them. She wore her golden hair in a Gibson Girl knot. Artfully arranged stray curls bobbed against her cheeks and her long, graceful neck. Her smile was practiced and slightly guarded.

"Mrs. Decker, how kind of you to come."

"Yes, kind," a male voice mocked.

Sarah and her mother looked over in surprise to see a young man standing in the corner. His golden good looks mirrored Gilda's, and his smile was even less sincere.

"May I present my cousin, Terrance Udall. He has been offering me his support during this difficult time. I'm sure you understand."

Sarah didn't understand at all, but she decided not to mention that as her mother was introducing her to Gilda and Terrance.

"Yes, Mrs. Brandt," Gilda said. "You're the one who has the little girl, if I'm not mistaken." So she knew exactly who they were.

Sarah was glad she had taken pains with her appearance today. Her clothes weren't the latest fas.h.i.+on, but at least she didn't look like the poor relation that she was. "Her name is Catherine."

Gilda raised her perfectly arched eyebrows but only said, "Please sit down. I've ordered some tea to be brought up."

Sarah and her mother chose the sofa while Gilda and Terrance chose chairs opposite them. When they were settled, Gilda said, "May I ask what brings you here today?"

"Of course you may," Mrs. Decker said. "I gather that you know all about Catherine."

"Yes, and you can imagine what a shock it was to us."

"You had no idea?" Sarah asked.

"Not in the slightest. Mr. Wilbanks is not the sort of man one would suspect of keeping a mistress."

"What about you, Mr. Udall?" Sarah said. "Did you suspect?"

Udall, who had been observing the proceedings with a smirk, sobered instantly. "I have learned never to be surprised by anything, Mrs. Decker."

Which, of course, didn't answer her question. "As I'm sure you know, Mr. Wilbanks would like for me to return his daughter to him."

Gilda and Terrance exchanged a glance. "Are you aware that Mr. Wilbanks is gravely ill?"

"Yes, we are," Sarah said, "which is why we are here."

"My daughter has grown very fond of Catherine," her mother said. "We believed her to be an orphan when Sarah took her in."

"A natural a.s.sumption," Gilda said. "I understand she was abandoned at some charitable inst.i.tution."

"But of course she isn't an orphan," Udall said. "And she belongs with her family."

Sarah and her mother looked at him in surprise. Her mother was the first to recover. "We only want what's best for the child, and certainly, she should be with her father."

Sarah didn't have to feign her pain at this statement. "He does have a legal right to her, and I couldn't in good conscience keep her from him, no matter how much it hurts me to give her up."

Her mother nodded. "But as you pointed out, Mr. Wilbanks may not be with us much longer, and Catherine is very young. We wanted to meet you and determine that you are willing to take over the responsibility of raising her."

"And if she's not," Udall said, his smirk firmly back in place, "you would be happy to take her yourself, I'm sure."

Sarah wasn't exactly sure how to answer him, but she said, "Of course I would."

Udall's smirk widened. "And I suppose Mr. Wilbanks has told you that he intends to provide for her quite generously in his estate, which will greatly ease the burden of raising a child not your own."

"Mr. Wilbanks has told us no such thing," her mother said in her most withering voice. "And in any case, we are perfectly capable of providing for the child ourselves."

"Please excuse Terrance. He tends to be overly dramatic as well as overly protective of me."

"Do you need protection, Mrs. Wilbanks?" Sarah asked.

"No, I do not," she said with a smile.

Sarah smiled back. "Then let's be honest, shall we? I'm sure you have no interest in raising the child of your father-in-law's mistress and neither does Mrs. Hicks, to whom I've already spoken about this matter."

"You have? When was that?"

"Yesterday."

"You're wasting no time, are you?" Udall said.

"I was summoned by Mr. Hicks," Sarah said, stretching the truth a bit. "But I'm sure you can understand my eagerness to get this matter resolved, especially since one person has already been murdered."

Gilda and Udall exchanged another glance, their shock obvious. "Surely, you don't think the nursemaid's death has anything to do with us," she said.

"I have no way of knowing if it has anything to do with you or not, but it certainly has everything to do with Catherine."

"I don't see how," Gilda said.

Sarah seriously doubted this, but she was willing to play along. "Miss Murphy was the only person who knew what had become of the child. With her dead, she might never be found."

"And yet she has been found," Udall said.

"Only because the killer didn't know Miss Murphy had already contacted the people at the Mission where she left Catherine. If she hadn't done so, no one would ever have known what became of her."

"My goodness," Gilda said in mock astonishment. "What convoluted reasoning. In your version of events, the killer must be a member of a highly respected family of impeccable reputation who murdered a total stranger in order to keep a dying man from seeing his child. Why should anyone believe such a thing when people of the lowest order are also involved and are far more likely to have killed this woman?"

"I don't see why," Sarah said, mocking Gilda's own words.

"Do people like that really need a good reason? From what I know about the child's mother, she's capable of anything. She must have been furious to learn this nursemaid had lost her child. Who could blame her for las.h.i.+ng out at her?"

This was not going at all the way they had expected, but Sarah was learning a lot about Gilda Wilbanks that she never would have suspected. Before she could decide what to say next, the maid arrived with the tea. By the time they had all been served and the maid had withdrawn, Sarah had formulated her next step.

"Solving Miss Murphy's murder is a matter for the police, of course."

"The police," Udall echoed with his annoying smirk.

He was right to be contemptuous, of course. Usually, the police would take little interest in the death of someone like Anne Murphy. Her mother stiffened beside her, taking instant offense on Malloy's behalf, however. "You might be surprised-"

"He's right, Mother," Sarah interrupted, not wanting to give too much away. "We may never find out who killed Miss Murphy, so our concern must be for Catherine and keeping her safe."

"So safe that no one ever sets eyes on her?" Gilda said. "How do we know you even have the child, or that she's even the right child? The city is full of abandoned children. I should like some proof before we go any further with this."

As much as Sarah disliked Gilda Wilbanks, she had to admit her request was only reasonable. Still, if someone in this house had already killed to keep Catherine from being found . . . "Her mother can identify her."

Gilda smiled knowingly. "I'm sure she can, and she would have every reason to identify any female child as her daughter since her only hope of profiting from this is to produce one. I'm actually surprised she hasn't already thought of this and enlisted some poor urchin to the cause."

"Whose word would you accept, then?" Sarah's mother asked.

"I believe Father Wilbanks is the only one with no ulterior motive who could identify her."

Such a clever solution, Sarah realized. And she had been so cleverly outmaneuvered. The only way to prove Catherine was Wilbanks's child was to allow him to see her, and since he was so ill, the only way to do that was to deliver her to the home of those with the best reason to want her dead.

THAT DIDN'T GO AT ALL THE WAY WE PLANNED," HER mother said as they walked away from the Wilbanks home.

"No, it didn't, and the worst part is that she is absolutely right. I've just been thinking in terms of allowing Wilbanks to see Catherine as a kindness to him, but without his word, we really have no way to prove she's his daughter."

"Which is only important if you're interested in her inheriting anything from him."

Her mother was right, of course. "Catherine doesn't need anything from her father or anyone else, but I can't help hating the thought of someone as unpleasant as Gilda Wilbanks inheriting everything."

"Unfortunately, family wealth isn't usually distributed according to who deserves it most. Your father said everyone expects Ozzie Wilbanks to squander the family fortune in just a few years, in any case."

"How lovely that would be for Gilda." Sarah sighed. "Of course there's another reason to allow Mr. Wilbanks to see Catherine-because he wants to see his child before he dies."

"Yes, and whether we need him to identify Catherine or not, we must bring them together soon."

"I just wish we could figure out how to do that without Gilda and her husband finding out."

"Oh, I think we must make sure they do find out, so they know without a doubt who Catherine is."

Sarah sighed again. "No matter what else happens, I know one thing: Gilda Wilbanks will not get custody of Catherine. Malloy offered to put me on a train to California with Catherine if necessary."

"Let's hope it doesn't become necessary. Perhaps your father and Malloy fared better than we did today."