“Not yet,” I said. “Tell me—you must have a pretty good idea of what Paddy kept in here—” Bad mistake. She bristled. “If you think I have time to go snooping through my guests' belongings …”
“Oh, I wasn't implying that at all, Mrs. O'Shaunessey. I merely meant that you did his laundry, so you'd obviously be in and out of this room with piles of washing.”
“Well, yes. I'd be in and out all the time. And I tried to keep his clothing neat as best I could. Not the tidiest of gendemen.”
“You should have seen the mess at the office when I first arrived.” I smiled like a fellow conspirator.‘Took me a full week to get the papers in order. So I wondered if you could tell me if the police actually found anything of importance here and took it away with them?”
She considered, then shook her head. “I can't think that they did. You know, the young officer was only here a few minutes and I'd swear he wasn't carrying anything when he left.”
“So there is nothing missing? This is how his room always looked?”
“Except that I usually made the bed when I had a chance. But the policeman said to leave everything exactiy as it was, so I did.”
I went through the desk. There was a new roll of film in one drawer, plus some packets of negatives. I'd take those when I could. No sign of the camera, though. And not much else of interest. A receipt from a cleaner's, an out-of-date calendar, some postcards and a map of Manhattan, which I'd also appropriate.
I closed the desk and went over to the wardrobe, feeling Mrs. O'Shaunessey's eyes boring into my back. A good dark suit, a heavy winter coat and several items that must have been for disguises—a long flowing cape, a top hat. I lifted a box down from the top shelf and found it to contain wigs and makeup. I'd have to make sure I got my hands on that when the room was finally cleaned out.
I closed the wardrobe again and handed Mrs. O'Shaunessey my card. “Please send someone round to let me know when the police say you can clean out the room. I'll come and give you a hand. It's too much work for one person. Some of this stuff, like the wigs and makeup, really belongs at the office, but I should think there's probably some items here that you could sell— make yourself a bit of extra money.”
She was as readable as a book. “Mercy me, I'd never thought of that. Happen you're right.” She looked pink and pleased.
“Did Mr. Riley have many visitors?” I asked as we descended the stairs again.
“Visitors? I can't say I ever recall visitors. A private person, Mr. Riley was. Kept himself to himself. Only lived for his work, didn't he?”
“He seemed to. Such a sad life.”
“Yes, I suppose you could say that.”
We reached the ground floor. “So you don't happen to know if there was anywhere he met up with friends—a particular tavern he liked?”
“Mr. Riley was not what you'd call a heavy drinker,” she said firmly. “He liked the occasional tot, though. I believe he stopped off at O'Connor's on the way home from time to time.”
“O'Connor's?” My heart beat faster. “And where would that be?”
“Oh, just around the block. Corner of Greenwich and Christopher.”
“You wouldn't happen to remember if he told you he stopped off at O'Connor's two nights before he was killed?”
She shook her head. “He came in very late, both that night and the last night of his life. I was already in bed when I heard his key in the lock. I called out,‘Is that you, Mr. Riley?’ and he said it was.”
“Did he sound quite—normal?”
“If you mean was he drunk, Mr. Riley hardly ever overindulged. But, now that you mention it, he was quite short with me that first night. Usually we had a pleasant little exchange as he passed my room on the stairs. But that night I called out,‘Is that you, Mr. Riley?’ and he said,‘What? Oh, yes. Yes, it's me.’ And that's all he said. No good night. No nothing. And that was unusual for him. Always had good manners around me, Mr. Riley did.”
I opened the front door. “Thank you, Mrs. O'Shaunessey. You've been most helpful. I'll look forward to coming to give you a hand getting that room cleaned out, so that you can relet it as quickly as possible.”
“Most kind, my dear. I'd appreciate that.”
I left her waving after me in a most motherly fashion. I was learning, slowly but surely, how to keep my mouth from running away with me!