She waved me away with a languid hand.
I wasn't as good at this as I had hoped, I thought as I rode down in the elevator. If only I could have thought of the right things to say, asked the right questions; she had been on the verge of telling me everything. She may even have known the name of Angus's unsuitable relationship. But at least I still had the motive—she had been planning to tell Angus's father. I would have to tread cautiously when I went to see Angus.
I had learned from the file that Mr. Angus MacDonald had an office in the financial district on Wall Street, in a building owned by his father. I traveled south again on the El and spent some moments brushing off the dust of travel, making myself presentable before I approached that marble edifice, the MacDonald Building. I was told by his secretary that Mr. MacDonald was in a meeting and couldn't see me. I asked when a good time might be and the answer implied never. At that I decided I had been humble and polite long enough. I asked for a piece of paper, wrote a note and asked the secretary to take it to Mr. MacDonald right away.
This he did, and it wasn't long before I was shown into Angus's office. He was an attractive young man, slim, dark-haired with the same languid grace as his wife. He rose to his feet as I came in.
“Miss Murphy? I understand that you have something of a most confidential nature to discuss with me—concerning the well-being of my family?”
I nodded. “It is of a most delicate nature, Mr. MacDonald. I should prefer it if…” I glanced at the secretary. Angus waved at him. “Thank you, Biggs, that will be all.”
Angus indicated a leather chair and I sat. “Please proceed. I am most intrigued.”
“I'm not sure if you know this, Mr. MacDonald, but your wife is gathering evidence to divorce you.”
The reaction was not what I expected. He looked, if anything, rather amused. “Elizabeth is planning to divorce me? And how do you happen to know this, Miss Murphy?”
“Your wife had hired a private investigator—a Mr. Riley. He unfortunately died last week. I was brought in to go through the contents of his office and to box everything up so that it could be let to a new tenant.” I had decided on the journey to Wall Street that it might be wise, for the purposes of this interview and my own safety, not to appear too closely linked to Paddy. “Your wife appears to be one of his current clients.”
“So why, exactly, did you come to see me?”
“To warn you, of course.”
“Very charitable of you.” The smile indicated otherwise. “Not hoping to make a little on the side? You haven't found some delicious scrap of incriminating evidence that you'd like me to have, for a price?”
“I found no evidence,” I said coldly. “And I have no personal interest in the matter, sir. I'm just trying to tie up loose ends. I understand that your father is a man of the highest principles and I thought you might want to take steps so that no hint of scandal reached him.”
“Then I suppose I am in your debt,” he said.‘There are, indeed, aspects of my lifestyle of which my father wouldn't approve. But why Elizabeth had to go to the trouble of hiring a private investigator I have no idea. If she had asked me for a divorce, I would willingly have given her one. It wasn't as if we were ever very compatible. We were chosen for each other as a suitable match before either of us was old enough to know better. I'd be quite happy to set us both free.”
“But your father” I blurted out. “Surely he wouldn't approve of a divorce?’
Angus smiled. “Oh, the old man would rant and rave for a bit, but he'd get over it. To tell you the truth, he never really took to Elizabeth. He didn't approve of her spending habits, and she has failed so far to produce an heir.” He got up and extended his hand to me. “Thank you for taking the time to come here, Miss Murphy. Now, if you will excuse me, I'm supposed to be working. My father is constantly badgering me to improve my work habits and I suppose I should be seen to be making progress in one area of my miserable life.”
He leaped ahead of me to the door and opened it. “Good-bye,” he said.
I stepped out onto the street to find that the promised rain had begun. A solid downpour, with the rumble of thunder in the distance. I had no umbrella with me and did not wish to ruin my new business suit by getting drenched. So I moved to a pillared overhang of the nextdoor bank and waited, hopefully, for the storm to pass. I hadn't been standing there long when a figure sprinted out of the MacDonald Building, climbed into a waiting automobile and drove away. Even with an overcoat on and the collar turned up, I recognized Angus MacDonald. And as he drove away, I considered something else. Angus MacDonald was dark-haired, lithe, and moved with considerable grace.