Murder In Chelsea Part 21

She didn't sound like she thought that was possible, but Frank tried his most charming smile. "I think so. Attorney Michael Hicks sent me to speak with Mr. Kirby."

She still didn't look happy, but apparently, he'd said the right thing. She went into the inner office, and returned in a few moments. "Mr. Kirby will see you."

She showed him in and said, "I didn't get your name."

"Detective Sergeant Frank Malloy of the New York City Police."

She rolled her eyes. There wasn't much love lost between private detectives and the police. The police considered payments to private investigators money lost that could've gone to them as bribes. Private investigators were usually former cops who left because the force was too corrupt or too incompetent. Frank knew how they felt. The secretary closed the door, leaving him alone with Kirby.

The office was simply furnished and Mr. Kirby looked like a simple man of middle age, clean shaven and neatly dressed with dark hair graying a bit at the temples.

"Mr. Malloy, I'm Clarence Kirby," he said, rising from where he sat behind his desk. His handshake was firm, his palm dry. "I understand Mr. Hicks sent you. What can I do for you?"

"I had some questions about a case you worked on for Hicks, Emma Hardy."

Kirby frowned. "Have a seat, Mr. Malloy. May I ask what your interest is in that case?"

Frank took the offered chair. "It's personal. You see, I know the family who has Emma Hardy's daughter, and they aren't willing to give the child up unless they're sure it's the right thing."

"I see," Kirby said.

"I don't think you see at all, so I'll explain it to you. I know you were hired to find Emma after she disappeared. By the way, do you have any idea why she ran away in the first place?"

"You haven't told me anything yet that makes me want to share information with you, Mr. Malloy, so if you don't mind, I'll not answer that question just yet."

"Fair enough. I understand you found her on tour with some play. You approached her and tried to find out where the child was, but you didn't have much luck. You found out she wrote to Anne Murphy, so you came back to the city and found her, but she didn't have the child either, and so you killed her."

Kirby reared back in his chair, his eyes wide. "I beg your pardon!"

"You heard me. You killed Anne Murphy."

"I did no such thing. I'm a private investigator, not an a.s.sa.s.sin!"

"But you know who did."

"Of course I don't know. In fact, I only know she was murdered because Mr. Hicks told me. I'd stopped watching her as soon as I learned she had no idea where the child was."

Frank studied him for a long moment, waiting to see if his outrage cracked to reveal a hint of guilt. It did not. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Kirby, but I had to be sure."

"Sure of what? That I didn't kill that poor woman? I would have told you that if you'd just asked."

"And it would've been easy to lie if I just asked. You should know that."

Kirby's anger faded into a reluctant grin. "I used to know it. It's been a long time since I questioned a suspect, though."

"I guess you don't have much call for that in this business."

"No, I'm happy to say. Mostly, it's just following some swell to a cheap hotel to find out he's cheating on his wife so she can get a divorce and marry her own lover."

Frank glanced around at the modest office. "Is your operation as small as it looks?"

"Oh, yes, just me and Abby. She types my reports and sends the bills. I used to have other agents, but the clients always wanted me, so it didn't make sense to keep them on. If I need help, I bring in another agency."

"What do you think of Emma Hardy?"

Kirby leaned back in his chair, and Frank knew he'd finally told Kirby enough to make him willing to share information. "She's a h.e.l.lion. Knows what she wants and goes after it. Near as I can tell, she worked Wilbanks perfectly. She's not much of an actress on the stage, but she must be pretty good between the sheets, if you know what I mean."

"Some men see what they want to see in a woman."

"There's that, of course, but from what I've heard, Emma never let him see what she was really like either."

"She must've done a good job, if he was willing to marry her."

"That was mostly for the child, I think, although he couldn't have known what he'd really be getting with her, or he never would've considered it. So you know where the child is? What happened to her?"

Frank told him.

Kirby shook his head. "Too bad Anne Murphy never knew. She was terrified when she couldn't find her."

"Terrified of what? Do you know?"

"Well, I gather she cared for the little girl, and she became terrified when she couldn't find her, but I think it was more than that. I never talked to her myself, you understand. I didn't want to reveal my ident.i.ty. But I talked to people who knew her. She thought somebody wanted to hurt the child. I guess that's what Emma told her. So she was afraid they'd found the child and something had happened to her."

"If she found out some man was asking her friends about her, she might've thought you were the one after the child. That would've scared her, too."

"Maybe, but she was also scared of what Emma would do if she got back and found out Anne didn't have her kid."

"Should she have been?"

Kirby gave him a pitying stare. "Have you met Emma Hardy? Of course she was right to be scared. Emma might not have cared about the girl, but she cared about the money she could bring in. If she got back here and found out Anne Murphy had lost track of her, well, let's just say I wouldn't want to be in Anne's shoes."

"Do you think Emma would have killed her?"

"Not if she was thinking straight. Anne might still be some help in finding the kid, but in a fit of temper, sure. She smacks Vaughn around some, I hear."

"What?"

"Didn't you know?"

"No, I never heard of such a thing, a woman hitting a man. Why doesn't he just hit her back?"

"You'd expect him to, wouldn't you? But he doesn't. I've seen it once or twice before. I know, usually it's the man beating up his woman to keep her in line, but every now and then you see it the other way around."

Frank remembered Vaughn's black eye. He said he'd walked into a door. How many women had offered that excuse for bruises their husbands had given them? "So she's been known to be violent."

Kirby nodded. "I understand Miss Murphy was stabbed."

"With a kitchen knife by someone visiting her in her room."

"Another woman then."

Frank frowned. "What makes you say that?"

"She lived in a boardinghouse. She wouldn't have brought a man up to her room."

Of course. Why hadn't any of them realized that before? "She wouldn't have thought twice about inviting her old friend Emma to her room, though."

Kirby nodded. "Anne probably even suggested it, so they could talk privately, knowing Emma would make a fuss when she found out about the child."

Could it really be that simple? Of course it could. Frank felt like an idiot. "So it was probably Emma that Anne Murphy was afraid of because she knew how angry Emma would be about Catherine."

"She wouldn't have expected Emma to murder her, though," Kirby said. "Emma would need her help to find the child."

"Once she calmed down, Emma probably realized that herself, but it was too late." Frank shook his head. "I didn't want it to be her."

"Why not?"

"Because she's Catherine's mother."

"I see. You're fond of the child."

Frank didn't want to discuss this with Kirby. He rose. "Thank you for your help."

"I hope we meet again under happier circ.u.mstances."

Frank paused at the door. "Are you still on this case?"

"No, Mr. Hicks said he had all the information he needed."

Frank wondered if that was true.

Once outside the building, he stepped back against the wall to allow the other pedestrians on the sidewalk to move past him while he considered what to do next. It was almost suppertime, and he hadn't seen Brian in too long. He saw no reason to ruin Sarah's evening with news that would keep until tomorrow, and Emma Hardy seemed unlikely to murder anyone else, at least not in the near future. Yes, tomorrow was soon enough to arrest Catherine's mother.

SARAH'S MOTHER ARRIVED AT HER DOOR REMARKABLY early the next morning.

"Oh, Sarah, when are you going to get a telephone?" she asked before she'd even taken off her coat.

"When I can afford one."

"What did Mr. Malloy say when you told him about Gilda and her cousin?"

"I haven't spoken with him."

"Really? I thought for sure he'd at least report to you what he'd learned yesterday from Emma."

Sarah took her mother's coat and hat and hung them up in the hall, then led her back to the kitchen, where the coffee left from her breakfast was still on the warmer. "What's Father doing today?"

"He went to his office, but he told me to contact him immediately if we learned anything new."

"At this point, I don't know what we could learn that's new unless someone decides to confess to killing Anne Murphy."

Her mother sat down at the kitchen table while Sarah poured coffee for them both. "You sound discouraged."

"I am." Sarah sat down across from her mother. "I don't even know what the right thing to do is anymore. We've been hiding Catherine to keep her safe, but we've also kept her from her own parents. We may not think much of either of them, but they're still her parents, and they have a right to see her."

"I know. If Mr. Wilbanks were in better health, I would invite him to visit Catherine at our home. At least we could be sure no harm would come to her there."

"I'm sure he wouldn't be able to travel, though," Sarah said, "so we would have to bring her to him."

"Gilda, it seems, will accept nothing less than his personal identification of her, too."

"Which means she'll want to be present, and I'm sure Ozzie will, too. Mr. and Mrs. Hicks should probably be there as well."

Her mother smiled wanly. "At least there's safety in numbers. With so many witnesses, no one would dare lift a finger to her."

"That's probably true, but what if Wilbanks won't let us take her back again?"

"How could he stop us?"

"By force, if necessary. He can afford to hire help for that, and we already know he has Mr. Hicks to work on the legalities. He is her father."

Her mother had no answer for that. They sipped their coffee in silence for a while.

"And what about Emma?" her mother asked finally.

"What about her?"

"She's Catherine's mother."

"I know she is, but I can't get over the fact that she abandoned her."

"I'm sure she would argue otherwise. And she is her mother. She must love her in her own way."

"Her own way is very unusual. I never thought I'd hear you defending her, Mother."

"I'm not defending her. I'm merely trying to be reasonable. Perhaps if we were kind to Miss Hardy, we could . . ."

"Could what?" Sarah asked when she hesitated.

"We could win her cooperation. If she was willing to give Catherine to Wilbanks for a financial consideration, perhaps she would do the same for us."

"Mother, I don't have anything to give her."

Her mother laid a hand on her arm. "I know that, dear, but your father and I do."

"Oh, Mother, I couldn't possibly-"