Death of Riley (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #2)

“Funny you should say that,” she said. “He asked to borrow my railway timetable. I think he mentioned Buffalo.”


I stuffed the pieces of postcard into my purse and hurried out onto the street. Then I walked as fast as I could, without actually picking up my skirts and running, to the Hotel Lafayette. Ryan had some explaining to do. I was going to get the truth out of him. Strangely enough, I wasn't afraid anymore. I was going to get to the bottom of this, if it was the last thing I did.

“Mr. O'Hare? I'm afraid you've missed him, miss.” The young man at the front desk gave me an apologetic smile.

“Has he gone to the theater already?” Ryan was not known to be an early riser.

“No, miss. He's left New York. I understand that he's taking his new play on the road before it opens on Broadway.”

“Oh.” I felt like a deflated balloon. “Do you happen to know where he's gone?”

“I think I overheard that the play is due to open in Buffalo—makes sense, doesn't it, with all those crowds over the Labor Day weekend?”

“Crowds?”

“The big exposition,” he said, looking at me as if I were soft in the head. “Been going on all summer. We've had guests here who've visited it and said it's like a dream—thousands of electric lights and towers and pavilions. They even have a Wild West show with a buffalo stampede.”

My mouth went dry. That little doodle in Riley's black book. It hadn't been a bull at all. It had been a buffalo. RO and LC had now gone to Buffalo. They were planning somehow to disrupt the big exposition. I had to stop them.





Twenty–Five

I was relieved to find that Sid and Gus were out when I returned to Patchin Place. My heart was racing with the crazy notion that was flying through my head. Someone had to go to Buffalo and intercept Ryan and Leon Czolgosz and, with Daniel gone, there was nobody I could trust at the police station—especially if Wolski was somehow involved. That meant I would have to go myself—an alarming proposition. I had never been out of New York before. I had no idea how far away Buffalo was, but I knew it was in New York State, so it couldn't be too far. Nevertheless, I might not be able to make it there and back in one day—I'd be required to spend a night there. I flung my nightdress and a hairbrush into Paddy's old briefcase and wrote a note to Sid and Gus to tell them where I was going. Then I wrote a longer, more detailed letter to Daniel, asking him to get in touch with the Buffalo police and laying out my suspicions. I included the photographs. I had no way of knowing when he would come back to his apartment to find the note. I just prayed it would be before I had to act on my own.

Throwing all financial considerations to the winds, I took another hansom cab to Daniel's apartment, hopefully rang the doorbell again, then put the letter through his mail slot. Then I withdrew some money from the bank and made for the Grand Central Depot.

I had never set foot inside that great smoky, bustling railway terminus before. I had passed through the station at Belfast once, but I had been on the run and too scared to notice much of my surroundings. Besides, it hadn't been anything compared to this vast, echoing place. Certainly nothing quite as daunting. I stood inside the doorway for a moment trying to get my breath. I fought my way through the crowds to the booking office and waited impatiently in the long line at the counter while shouts echoed through the building. “All aboard for Chicago, and all points west! Boston train on Platform Two!”

At last it was my turn to step up to the ticket window. A train for Buffalo was leaving at noon, I was told, but I'd be lucky if I got a seat. Half of New York was going to the exposition. I could wait and pay for a sleeper on the night train if I wanted.

“A sleeper?” I blurted out. “The trip can't take that long. It's in the same state, isn't it?”

“It's almost eight hours,” the bewiskered man behind the bars said, looking at me with amused scorn. “I'll wager New York is a tad bigger than Ireland. Now, do you want the sleeper, or don't you? I have a whole line of people here waiting to snap it up.”

“I'll take the noon train and risk not getting a seat,” I said haughtily.

“A long time to stand,” he said, smirking as he handed me my ticket.