Hush Now, Don't You Cry (Molly Murphy, #11)

Ten

I did not sleep well that night. Daniel tossed and turned with a hacking cough. Having just become accustomed to the advantages of sleeping in the same bed as my husband, I was now finding out the disadvantages. I got up to fetch him water and make him hot tea and in the end I chose to curl up on the sofa with a rug over me. I had just drifted off to sleep as the birds were twittering with the dawn when there was a thunderous knocking at the front door.

I got up, reached blindly for my robe, and went to the front door, first pausing to make sure the robe was tied decently. Really this nightly interruption was becoming less of a joke each time it happened. I opened the door to see a policeman standing there.

“Good morning, ma’am.” He touched his helmet to me. “I am sorry to bother you so early, but I’m afraid I have to ask you to get dressed and come over to the big house as soon as possible. My chief would like to talk to you.”

“About what? Is it my husband you’re wanting?” I pulled my robe closer around me, conscious of his interested stare.

“No, both of you, and I couldn’t tell you what about. Just that it’s urgent and you are requested to come straightaway.”

“Very well. We’ll come as soon as we’re dressed,” I said shortly.

I went upstairs to rouse Daniel. He looked decidedly the worse for wear—hollow eyed and still flushed with fever.

“What the devil do they want now?” he growled. “Are we not to get a minute’s peace in this place? I rather wish I had not accepted the invitation. A stay on Coney Island next to the new Luna Park would have been quieter than this.”

“Maybe you should stay in bed. The early morning air will not help your condition. I can go in your stead and give your excuses.”

“No, that wouldn’t do at all,” he said. “I’ll be all right. I just hope for their sakes that the matter warrants dragging us out of bed like this.”

He sat on the bed, breathing heavily, as he dressed. His breathing sounded ragged. I went off to dress myself, noting gratefully that I had succeeded in eliminating the saltwater stains from the skirt of my dress. As I put up my hair I tried to think what a policeman could want with us at this hour. Surely Mrs. McCreedy had not reported me for trying to steal a chicken? And if she had, the alderman would certainly have arrived by now and would have vouched for us. A chilling thought crossed my mind—those little boys, mischievous and lacking control—surely something hadn’t happened to them?

I followed Daniel down the stairs and out across the dewy lawn. I took his arm, feeling that he might need me to steady him as much as I needed his support. Toadstools had appeared overnight in the damp grass and there was a decidedly autumnal chill in the air. Seagulls wheeled overhead mewing. The policeman who had summoned us was standing at the front door of the castle and ushered us inside, across that cavernous main foyer, down a gloomy hallway until he paused outside a door at the far end. He knocked and pushed the door open for us to go in. We stepped into one of the lavishly formal drawing rooms on the north side of the house. It was decidedly chilly at this early hour with no fire lit in the grate.

I started with surprise as we entered because the room was full of people. The entire Hannan family appeared to be assembled in various stages of undress. Pajamas were visible under silk dressing gowns. Irene was in a feather-trimmed negligee, but her hair fell over her shoulders and clearly had not been brushed. They were posed, unmoving, almost like a tableau in the popular party games—their unkempt appearance and motley attire in sharp contrast to the fine furnishings and decorations of the room.

My first impression was of this incongruity and I tried to imagine what had brought them all so hurriedly from their beds. They looked at us as we entered, hollow eyed and almost as if they were in a trance. A thought passed through my head that these were people who were in shock. Then of course I remembered the incident of the day before and realized that the little boys were not part of this gathering. Please God let it not have anything to do with those boys, I found myself praying.