Bless the Bride (Molly Murphy, #10)

“Girl?” I asked innocently.

“This missing bride. She has an equally good motive for killing the old man. The timing of her flight is just too coincidental for me, and I did notice small footprints when I was up on the roof.”

I tried not to glance up the stairs.

“If she was his bride, and his bed was up there, she might well have walked around quite legitimately on the roof,” I pointed out.

“But these looked rather fresh, didn’t they? And they were at the edge of the roof. At the very least she used the roof as a way to escape, and at worst, she came back that way to kill Lee.”

“If you were examining footprints, what did you think about those heavy men’s boots?” I asked. “Weren’t they equally fresh?”

“Ah, yes. The big boots. I suppose they could be,” he said. “It’s hard to tell. Lee could have brought in a Caucasian workman to fix a leaking roof. The Chinese don’t have that kind of footwear. But to come back to the missing woman—tell me, exactly how far did you get in your search for her?” His voice echoed up the stairwell.

I glanced up nervously, half expecting to hear scurrying feet. “Not very far,” I said. “I tried the various missions around Chinatown and while doing so, I found out what was going on and didn’t want to return the girl to Mr. Lee.”

“I’ve had men on the lookout for her today,” he said.

“Any luck?” I asked cautiously.

“One false lead. We heard of a Chinese girl hiding out at one of those settlement houses. But this one turned out to have escaped from a brothel, and the settlement workers said that she’s dying of consumption.” He paused and looked at me quizzically. “I wonder how much money I’d have paid for you?”

“Sight unseen, from Ireland?” I asked. “About a couple of chickens and a sack of potatoes, I should think.”

He slipped his arms around my waist. “At least two sacks of potatoes,” he murmured and kissed me.





Twenty-five



I was relieved when Daniel finally left the party. He actually started enjoying himself and stayed longer than I would have thought. But in the end he looked up at the clock on the mantel and sighed. “I suppose I had better get back to work,” he said. “There may be important developments tonight.”

“A big case, is it?” Monty asked. “A murder?”

“Only coincidentally,” Daniel said. “But yes, it’s a big case, and I’ll be mighty glad when it’s over. Like Molly and her runaway girl, I find it distasteful.”

“Runaway girl?” Monty asked.

Daniel chuckled. “My fiancée gets herself involved in all kinds of queer situations. This time it was tracking down a runaway bride. So if your bride decides to run off before the wedding, just hire Molly. She’ll track her down for you.”

“Runaway bride?” Monty said. “Wait a second—you don’t mean the Chinese girl, do you? Now I remember. Sarah told me about her but I didn’t put two and two together. Ah, so that’s it.” His eyes strayed toward the stairs. Any minute now he would put two and two together.

“Hadn’t you better go?” I pulled on Daniel’s arm.

“Trying to get rid of me, are you?” Daniel smiled. “But you’re right. I do have to go. Where are our hostesses? I should say good-bye.”

I didn’t start breathing again normally until Daniel was out in the street, and I stood at the front door.

“I’ll be in touch when I can,” he said. “I hope to have the other case I’m working on sewn up in the next few days. You’ll be going back to my mother tomorrow, will you?”

“I should help Sid and Gus clear up first,” I said. “And I still need to do some shopping for my trousseau—if you’d like your bride to start off married life with new undergarments.”

He looked at me quizzically. “You two have to learn to get along some time,” he said. “I thought this would be a good opportunity to do so.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll go back later this week, and I’ve been trying really hard, Daniel. You’d have been proud of me. When your mother extolled the virtues of every other girl in the county, I bit my tongue and smiled sweetly.”

“I’d like to have seen that.” He reached out and stroked my cheek. “Behave yourself now. I don’t want to find you turning up at any more crime scenes, understand?”

“Yes, Daniel,” I said meekly.

He laughed, but as he turned to go, I called after him, “Did you locate the murder weapon yet?”

He turned back to me. “Murder weapon? He was pushed off the roof. Do you want a handprint in the middle of his back?”