Death of Riley (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #2)

Now I had plenty of leads to follow up. It made sense that my first visit should be to Delmonico's, and from there I could trace Paddy's route home. I stood in Gramercy Park feeling the sun on my face. The twitter of birds and the heady scent of flowers wafted to me from the gardens. I remembered my bleak despair and determination the last time I left this address. My grief over Daniel and Paddy had receded so that it no longer threatened to consume me. Now it felt good to be alive. I strode out along Twenty-first Street like a racehorse released from the starting gate.

It was still too early in the day for anything to be happening at Delmonico's. A man in a dirty apron was swabbing down the front steps, and a woman was working on the brass on the open front doors. From inside came the clatter of dishes.

The man washing the steps looked up and saw me. “We're closed,” he growled.

“Is there someone I could talk to? A head waiter, perhaps?”

“They don't show up for hours yet.”

“Anyone who might have been on duty at night earlier this week? It's a very important matter.”

An evil grin crossed his face. “Wassamatter—leave some telltale evidence in a private room, didja? Don't worry, no one at Del's ever blabs.” He put down the mop. “I'll see if Mr. Carlo is around.”

He led me inside, then shuffled off into the kitchen area. I relished my chance to stand alone, taking in the scene. At this time of day it was like being in a vast cavern. The only light came through the open front doors and from doorways leading out to the kitchens, but gradually my eyes became used to the darkness and I gaped at what I was seeing. Such elegance! The polished wood and the sparkling chandeliers, the potted palms, the soft plush of the booths, the doors to private rooms now enticingly open—this was how the other half lived all right. Someday I'd dine here myself, if I ever came up with a suitable escort. That was a bad afterthought. Immediately I pictured Daniel sitting in that corner booth with Miss Norton, and I made myself walk around examining the flower arrangements to stop any further thoughts from escaping.

“Yes, miss, may I help you?” The gray-haired man looked haggard and hollow-eyed, as if he hadn't been to sleep in a while.

“Sorry to disturb you. I know you must be busy.” I handed him my card. “My senior partner was conducting an investigation on a couple who may have dined here in a private room last Monday night. I wondered if you keep a record of your customers.”

He looked at me as if I'd suggested he show me his underwear. “Reveal the names of our customers? My dear young lady, it would be more than my job was worth.”

Was that a hint that he wanted a bribe? It could be some of Paddy's money well spent. I regretted that I had been so modest with the amount I had allotted myself for expenses.

“If there is anything I could do to make you change your mind…” I wasn't sure how this bribery business worked. I opened my purse and went to reach inside.

“Not for all the tea in China,” he said firmly.

“And would it compromise your job if you just happened to mention where I might find the reservation book and take a peek for myself?”

“My dear young—” he began again.

“Look, it's very important, or I wouldn't be here,” I said. “My partner has been killed. I know he came here on Monday night.”

“Your partner?” Did I detect a flicker of interest?

“He was—” I was about to say “conducting an investigation.” I swallowed back the words at the last second. I didn't think this man would take kindly to the news that one of his waiters on Monday night had been a detective in disguise. “He was here to meet a business associate,” I finished lamely. “And the business associate was with a young woman, in a private dining room, so I wondered…”

Mr. Carlo still shook his head firmly. “Our confidentiality is as golden as the seal of the confessional in the church. We have never divulged the name of a private customer and never will. Good day to you, miss. We open for luncheon in just over an hour.”

So far my investigation techniques weren't exactly impressive. I left Delmonico's more subdued than I had entered it. I could come back, maybe, and attempt to squeeze more information out of the waiters. But then again, it might be more than their jobs were worth to divulge restaurant secrets. I couldn't even see myself sneaking back to take a peek at the reservation book.