Murder In Chelsea Part 8

"Or maybe this Emma was staying someplace else entirely when she came to the city," her mother said, earning a surprised look from her husband and an admiring one from Malloy.

"That's what I was thinking, too, Mrs. Decker," Malloy said. "Maybe she just wanted Wilbanks to think she stayed there."

"But where else would she have stayed?" her father asked.

"Oh, Felix, use your imagination. She had a lover! She probably told Wilbanks she wanted to go back to acting so she'd have an excuse to come to the city to see him. She could have stayed with him when she was here."

"Because no respectable boardinghouse would allow her to entertain a man there," Sarah said.

Her mother nodded. "And she didn't want to marry Wilbanks because then she would be living with him all the time and would no longer have had the freedom to see her lover. She wanted Wilbanks to support her, but she couldn't marry him without giving up the man she really loved."

Her father was looking at her mother as if he had never seen her before, but she didn't notice. She was too busy grinning at Malloy, who was grinning right back.

"And that man might not have wanted Emma to be reunited with her child because that could have gotten her back with Wilbanks, too. Thank you, Mrs. Decker. I'm going back to see Mrs. Dugan right now."

This time her father said, "Wait!" when Malloy would have taken his leave. "We need to meet this evening to share information."

"Come to my house," Sarah said.

"Why not here?" her mother asked. "Won't you be coming here with Maeve and Catherine?"

"No, I think I should stay at my house in case someone needs to find me. I also don't want to take a chance of Catherine finding out what's going on. She's already noticed that I'm not myself, and I don't want her to be frightened."

"All right. We'll meet at your house at eight o'clock," her father said and rang for the maid to show Malloy out and order the carriage.

For the first time in days, Sarah felt the tiniest bit hopeful.

ON HIS WAY BACK TO MRS. DUGAN'S BOARDINGHOUSE, Frank reviewed his earlier conversation with her. She had been very careful to mislead him without lying, he realized, but why? Not to protect Emma Hardy, of that he was certain. She despised Emma. In fact, Anne Murphy was the only person in the whole bunch who seemed to have cared for her at all. In Frank's experience, the only person most people really wanted to protect was themselves. When he asked himself why Mrs. Dugan would need to protect herself, the answer was easy: She'd taken money from Wilbanks for years for rent on a room Emma Hardy had never-or rarely-used. She wouldn't want him to find that out.

Could it be that simple?

Mrs. Dugan frowned when she opened the door to him. "I didn't expect to see you back again."

"I just need to ask you a few more questions."

With obvious reluctance, she let him in and led him to the deserted parlor. "The girls are all still asleep, so try to keep your voice down." She was doing her best to seem at ease, but her hands betrayed her, clutching each other in a white-knuckled bunch.

"How long has Ingrid Cordova lived here?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer my questions. The sooner you do, the sooner I'll be gone."

She sighed unhappily. "A couple years, I guess."

"So she lived here at least part of the time when Emma Hardy's protector rented a room for her here."

"I . . . I suppose so, yes."

"And yet she said she hardly knew Emma."

Mrs. Dugan stiffened. "Emma kept to herself."

"Or maybe Miss Cordova didn't know her well because Emma didn't really live here."

"She had a room here, I tell you. Mr. Wilbanks paid me every month. He wanted to know she had a safe place to stay when she was in a show, he said."

"I know she had a room here, but she didn't really stay in it, did she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't you? I'm not going to tell Wilbanks, so you don't have to worry about that. I just want to know where she did stay and who she stayed with."

The color bloomed in her cheeks. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. She had a lover, didn't she? That's where she stayed when she was in a show. Oh, she might've spent a night or two here sometimes, but most of the time she was with him. That's right, isn't it?"

"What possible difference does that make now? She's been gone for a year, and for all I know, she isn't coming back."

"Oh, she's coming back. That's what she wrote to tell Anne Murphy, and she expects Anne to have her daughter."

"Anne? Anne never had the child."

"Yes, she did. Emma left her with Anne, but Anne hid her someplace she thought would be safe. Then someone killed Anne before she could get the girl back."

Mrs. Dugan reached out and grabbed the back of a nearby chair for support. "And you think it was him?"

"Emma's lover? I don't know, but I'd like to find him and ask him. Do you know who he is?"

Her eyes blazed. "He's an actor. I warned her about him. I was married to an actor. Did I tell you?"

He nodded.

"A nasty lot, all of them. She wouldn't listen, though. Oh, she left him a dozen times, but she always took him back. I thought when she took up with Wilbanks, that would be the end of it. I thought his pride would never stand for her to be with another man, but I should've known better. He liked Wilbanks's money as much as she did. She half supported him with what Wilbanks gave her."

"And Wilbanks never suspected?"

"Why should he? Emma was always there when he came to see her."

"Didn't he come to see her here?"

"I don't allow men in the house. Emma would let him visit her at the theater and take her to dinner afterwards, but she couldn't have him here, so he never knew she didn't really live here."

"Where did she live?"

"Different places. He wasn't as good about paying the rent as Wilbanks was. Sometimes she'd come here for a while because they'd been thrown out of a place and she didn't want to be on the street with him. Did that make her think, though? No, she never blamed him for anything."

"What is his name?"

"Parnell Vaughn," she said, as if saying it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Fancy name."

"Fancy name for a fancy man. And no, I don't have no idea where he might be. I haven't heard a peep about him since Emma left town. I expect he went with her. He'd been living off her for years, so he's not likely to let her out of his sight now, is he?"

"Do you know anything else about him besides that he's an actor?"

"Yes, he drinks."

Frank didn't think that would help him much.

"And you think he killed Annie?" she asked again.

"Do you think he could have?"

"I wouldn't put anything past him, but killing somebody . . . Why would he do it?"

"I'll be sure and ask him when I find him. Mrs. Dugan, Emma might come here looking for Anne Murphy and her daughter. When she does, would you ask her to come and see me?"

"Emma ain't likely to want to see a copper."

Frank had figured that. "Just tell her I know where her daughter is, and I'm the only one who does."

"Do you really know?"

"Yes, I do."

"Poor little mite. She didn't deserve none of this."

"No, she didn't, but she's safe, and I want to keep her that way."

He left her another of his cards and got her promise to pa.s.s it to Emma, should she show herself. Now he had to figure out how to find an actor.

AS ALWAYS, CATHERINE WAS THRILLED TO SEE SARAH'S mother.

"Catherine, I have a surprise for you. I begged and begged, and your mama has agreed to let you come to visit me at my house for a few days."

Catherine's eyes widened. "Can I, Mama?"

"Of course, darling," Sarah said, fighting the urge to weep at the thought of losing her forever.

Catherine turned back to Sarah's mother. "Can Maeve come, too?"

"Of course she can. We'll have so much fun. You can sleep in the room where your mama used to sleep when she was a little girl. Let's go up and pack your things."

When her mother and Catherine were upstairs, Sarah turned to Maeve. "You don't mind, do you? We thought it would be safer."

"Of course I don't mind. I won't have to lift a finger or worry about Catherine either. I've been afraid all morning that someone would come to the door and I wouldn't know whether to answer it. Are you coming, too?"

"No. I don't want Catherine to see how worried I am or overhear me talking about her, and if someone needs me, this is the first place they'll look."

"Are you sure? You might not be safe here alone."

"If someone wants Catherine, they're not going to hurt the person who can take them to her."

"They hurt Anne Murphy. You could at least spend the night at Mrs. Ellsworth's."

"Let's see how it goes today. Now go get your things together. The carriage is waiting."

Only after she had kissed Catherine good-bye and seen them off in her mother's carriage did Sarah realize that her father had neglected to a.s.sign her something to do that afternoon.

FRANK STOPPED OFF AT POLICE HEADQUARTERS TO report on his progress and see if anyone there could advise him on locating an actor. He also found a message from an attorney named Michael Hicks who wanted to meet him that afternoon at his home, an address in Lenox Hill, which was a section of the city with large comfortable homes full of wealthy people. As a general rule, Frank avoided dealing with attorneys at all costs, but the message also said the matter concerned David Wilbanks. Catherine's father had worked very quickly.

He still had a few hours before his appointment with Hicks, so he went upstairs to see who was in the detective offices who might have some knowledge of the theater. A few minutes later, he left Headquarters, heading to Broadway in search of a theatrical agent.

The first few he consulted each sent him to agents in progressively seedier buildings until he found the right one. He climbed the unswept stairs to the second floor, where he located a door with the right name stenciled on the gla.s.s. The outer office contained a desk of ancient vintage at which no one sat. Aging posters of shows long closed covered the walls, and the scent of cheap cigars hung in the air. The door to the inner office stood half-open, and Frank heard the unmistakable sound of snoring coming from within. He walked over and pushed the door, letting it swing wide. He saw another desk, equally old and battered and covered with papers. Behind it sat a middle-aged man in a checked suit. His feet rested on the desktop, displaying a fairly good-sized hole in the sole, and he leaned so far back in his chair that Frank wondered why it hadn't toppled over. His mouth hung open, allowing the snores to escape.

Frank rapped loudly on the doorjamb, startling the fellow awake and almost causing him to upset his chair. Scrambling, he swung his feet to the floor and stood, looking around wildly to see who had disturbed his peace. His bleary gaze finally settled on Frank. He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket, in a vain attempt to regain some dignity. "May I help you, sir?"

"Are you Ralph Nathan?"

"Ralph Nathan, agent extraordinaire, at your service. And who might you be, my man?"

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

Nathan's bloodshot eyes widened with alarm. "I can a.s.sure you that nothing illegal is going on in this office."

Frank could plainly see that nothing at all was going on in this office. "I just need some information from you. I need to find some actors."

This appeared to confuse him, but only for a moment. "For a production? Are the police entering show business now?"

"Uh . . ."

"You have come to the right place, Mr. Malloy. The Ralph Nathan Agency represents only the finest thespians to have ever trod the boards. If you tell me more about the show, I'll be better able to a.s.sist you."

"You misunderstand, Mr. Nathan. There's no show. I just need to locate an actress. I think she's on tour. It's about her daughter."

"Her daughter? Is the girl in some trouble?"

"No, she's very young," Frank said, using just the necessary mix of truth and lies to get Nathan to cooperate. "She's been staying with some friends while the mother is on tour, but they can't keep her anymore. They asked me to find her so they can send the child to her."

"Oh, well, why didn't you say so? We always want to help out when we can. I often tell actresses they shouldn't have children for this very reason, but do they ever listen? Of course they don't."