For the Love of Mike (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #3)

“And you could have taken the opportunity to tell Arabella the truth. You could have said, ‘This is the woman I love. I can’t marry you.’ But you didn’t.”


“No, and I despise myself for it. I suppose you are right. My career does mean a lot to me. If Arabella felt I had betrayed her, she would not rest until she had ruined me completely.”

“And yet you could end up married to such a woman? Certainly a pleasing prospect.”

He shrugged and looked away. “I will tell her, I promise. The time has to be right.”

“This is no time to be discussing our unhappy situation,” I said. “Not while young Shamey O’Connor may be in danger.” I got up from my hard chair. “I must go, Daniel, if I’m permitted to do so and not to be charged as a gangster’s moll. I must continue looking for the boy.”

He put his hand on my sleeve. “Molly, I thought we’d been through this before.”

“All right,” I said. “Seeing that you owe me a favor for my good behavior and for holding my tongue that Sunday—you find the boy for me.”

“I will do that. Where was he last seen?”

“He went to get some information from the Eastmans for me.”

“You sent a child to the Eastmans?”

“Hold your horses—all right, I’m not feeling so wonderful about it myself now, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. This child has been used by them as a messenger. I thought he’d come to no harm and he might get more out of them than I would. I’ve been trying to locate a man called Michael Kelly, newly come from Ireland. I have reason to believe he may have joined the Eastmans. Young Shamey was going to find out for me, seeing that he knew about their haunts.”

Daniel made a tut-tutting noise but said nothing and got out his pad. “Description of the boy?”

I gave it to him. “And while you’re about it, I’ve got a picture of Michael Kelly. You could make inquiries about him too—find out if he is known to the Eastmans.”

I fished for it in my bag.

Daniel studied it. “Not unlike me,” he said. “Not quite as good looking, of course.” I went to slap him playfully and withdrew my hand at the last second. “And why are you looking for him?”

“Part of my missing person’s business,” I said. “He ran off with a girl of good family. Here is her picture—her name is Katherine Faversham, or was before she married Michael Kelly. The father wants her found.”

“I’m not surprised if she’s run off with a gangster.” He took the portrait from me, stared at it for a moment, then handed it back. “Not a bad-looking girl either. A little haughty for my taste.”

I was about to remind him that Arabella Norton spent her life looking down her nose at the rest of us, but I decided to concentrate on more important matters. “All I’ve been able to trace so far is that they lived on Division Street until about three weeks ago, when they did a bunk, leaving rent unpaid. I heard a rumor that he might have joined the Eastmans.”

“And how did you hear that?”

“Local tavern,” I said breezily and watched Daniel sigh again.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll do what I can. I don’t think the Eastmans would stoop to killing children—although who knows? They’ve been pretty violent in their actions recently. We’ve had a body brought into the morgue almost every day, although they’ve all been men. They have a different fate for women.” He frowned at me again. “But for that police raid, you might never have been seen again, my dear.” He turned away. “Can I make you swear to me that you will never do such a foolish thing again?”

“I’ll try to behave more sensibly,” I said, moved by his emotion.

“I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.” He reached out and stroked my cheek. I wished he hadn’t done that. Any other gesture and I could have handled it. This was so tender that tears welled to my eyes. Instinctively I covered his hand with my own and held it to my cheek. Then I controlled myself, brushed his hand away, and rushed from his office. “I’ve got a lost boy to find,” I said.





Eleven





I was not looking forward to going back to Patchin Place and telling Seamus that I had lost his son, but I didn’t want worry him just as much by staying away.

I turned back to Daniel, who was guiding me down the stairs. “You will do what you can, won’t you? He’s just a little boy. He may think he knows his way around the city but he really hasn’t been here long and . . .” I let the “and” hang in the air.

Daniel put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be all right. You know boys. He’s found a pal and gone off with him, or he’s gone back to his cousins’ place.”

The latter hadn’t occurred to me. Nuala’s place was not too far away. If Shamey had found himself in a spot of bother, he might well have run there for protection. I should have thought of that.