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

“That’s us men. Weak and self-centered creatures.” Terrence took a long drag on his cigarette and blew out a perfect smoke ring. “Give my regards to your husband.”


My encounter with Terrence had left me feeling uneasy. I started to walk away quickly and had to resist the urge not to look back over my shoulder to see if he was watching me or following me. I told myself I had no reason to be afraid. He had done nothing to threaten me in any way. In fact he had been open, frank, and chatty with me. What’s more, I liked him. He was witty and charming. He reminded me of my playwright friend Ryan O’Hare. But I knew quite well that criminals and even murderers could be charming. And his story about coming to the gazebo on the possibility that he might be able to help himself to a drink—surely that was a thin excuse, wasn’t it? There would obviously be a drinks cabinet in the house where he could sneak a drink unobserved if he put his mind to it. It seemed more likely to me that he had wanted to come to the gazebo because he wanted to check it out. Perhaps he was concerned that he might have left something there—something that could be used as evidence against him. The truth was that I suspected that Terrence had something to hide.

I emerged into the full force of the wind as I came out onto the lawn and battled my way back to my cottage as quickly as possible.





Sixteen

“Molly, is that you?” Daniel called in a croaking voice as I came in through the front door. I went up and found him lying propped up in bed exactly as I had left him. He looked up at me, hollow-eyed and pathetic as only a man with a minor illness can look.

He held out his hand to me. “I woke up and you were nowhere around. I wondered where you had gone. I was worried about you.”

I look his hand. It felt hot and clammy. “I just went to sit in the fresh air to write a letter, although I didn’t get much of a letter written. Terrence Hannan joined me and wanted to chat.”

“I don’t like the thought of your wandering around out there,” he said. “For all we know a murder was committed here last night.”

“Just because someone wanted to get rid of Brian Hannan doesn’t mean that I’d be in any danger,” I said. “I’ve nothing to do with the Hannan family.”

“No, but your presence could be taken as snooping. You made a couple of astute observations this morning, and it is now known that I’m with the police. You could be seen as posing a threat to a murderer.”

“I think you’re exaggerating, my love.” I patted his hand as I held it. “Besides the house and grounds are full of servants and even the occasional policeman. I’m not stupid, Daniel and I’ve learned not to be reckless either.”

“Oh, no,” he said. “I can think of some fairly recent examples of your recklessness.”

“Nonsense. They were just bad luck not bad judgment,” I said. “And anyway, I’m only prone to recklessness when I’m on a case.”

“Was on a case,” he corrected.

“Yes, dear,” I said dutifully, making him smile. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I think I am,” he said. “I should be all right by morning.”

“Which will be good, because Joseph Hannan has emphasized that he wants us out of here as soon as possible.”

“That’s interesting, isn’t it,” Daniel said. “Is it just because he wants to bring his ladylove back to the guest cottage or does he think we’d be doing some investigating into Brian Hannan’s death?”

“Not the ladylove,” I said. “She caught a train back to New York the next morning.”

“Now how do you know that?” He sat up, staring at me.

“I thought it might useful to find out if she was still staying in town. And I discovered that a Mr. and Mrs. Joseph had stayed one night at an inn quite near the railway station. Arrived very late and left at crack of dawn. The landlady was amazed that they’d gone without the breakfast for which they had paid.”

“Not bad for a lady detective,” he said. Then he ducked. “No, don’t hit me. I’m on my sickbed.”

“I’ll make us both a cup of tea.” I smiled as I went downstairs. It was good to see his energy returning. Maybe he would be well enough to travel in the morning. Frankly I couldn’t wait to get away. The atmosphere of this place was beginning to weigh on me. I had just put on the kettle and was cutting some bread to toast when there was a knock at the front door. I was surprised to see the police chief standing there.

“Mrs. Sullivan, I’m sorry to disturb you. Is your husband at home?” he asked.

“He is.”

“Then if I might have a word?”

“He’s been taking a rest, but if you’ll go into the sitting room, I’ll see if he feels up to receiving a guest.” I ushered him inside. As I went up to the bedroom I found Daniel already struggling into his jacket.

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” I asked.

“I want to hear what he has to say,” Daniel said. “He wouldn’t have come back if he hadn’t information on the case.”