In Dublin's Fair City (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #6)

“Should we cross to the north bank of the river here?” I asked. “We seem to be going into a less pleasant area.”


“We do indeed,” Cullen said. “In fact that building to our right, beyond the railway, is one of my least favorite in Ireland. That's the Clancy Barracks, my girl—home of a regiment of Inniskilling Dragoons. The might of King Edward, just waiting to keep the peace.”

“Then why go this way?” I tugged on his arm. “Let's turn around.”

“Because there is something I want to show you,” he said. We walked on until we came to a road junction and there on the other side loomed the grim facade of a brick building. It was tall, with hardly any windows, and an iron fence around it.

“Now there's an ugly building if ever I saw one,” I said.

“That, my dear, is Kilmainham Gaol,” Cullen said. “I wanted you to see it, to see what we were up against. And I also wanted to take a closer inspection for myself. A lone man—well, he could be noticed. But a happy young couple like ourselves—nobody is going to look at us twice.”

“So you brought me out as your decoy,” I said. He laughed. “I suppose you could put it that way.” “Nice little stroll indeed,” I said, and attempted to withdraw my arm. “You need to study it too,” he said. “Let us cross the road and look at it from the other side.”

“It looks formidable,” I said. “Only one entrance and no windows at ground level. I don’t see how anybody could break in.”

“You are going to get us in, my sweet,” he said, and patted my hand again. “It's all up to you.”

It was in solemn mood that we walked home again, neither of us speaking, but lost in our thoughts. That night we ate supper together in Cullen's room, shared the bottle of Jameson's, and laughed, the grim task ahead for the moment forgotten.

I saw nothing of Cullen the next day, or the day after that. Mrs. Boone brought me food and I thought it wise not to ask questions. I tried not to think about that jail and what possible part I might have to play. I tried not to think about my little brother, shut up in a cell without light or open air. I had to help rescue him, whatever the ultimate cost.

The next afternoon Mrs. Boone came up to my room. “I’ve a favor to ask,” she said. “There's a message needs to be delivered right away, and Father is holding a meeting of the Parish Council, so they’ll need me to serve their teas. Would you be kind enough to take it for me?”

“Yes, I’d be happy to,” I said.

She handed me a slim envelope. “There's a bookshop on Grafton Street. If you drop it off with the proprietor there—he's an older man with white hair—and tell him it comes from Mrs. Boone, he’ll know what to do with it.”

“I can do that,” I said.

“I’ve a cape with a hood,” she said. “Maybe it's better if you’re not seen or recognized.”

I came downstairs and she handed me a heavy Irish tweed cape. I put it on and pulled the hood over my head.

“Come straight back, won’t you,” she said.

“Don’t worry. I will.”

She let me out of the front door. I heard her call, “Coming, Father. Just been giving those old clothes to a poor, destitute woman.”

The wind hit me full in the face as I came out to the Liffy and I was glad of that warm cape and hood. I went along bent forward against the wind and almost ran into one of the benches along the riverside. As itwas I banged my shin and let out an exclamation, making the man sitting on the bench look up. Recognition dawned, and his face lit up in a big smile.

“Miss Delaney! I am so glad to meet you again.”

“Oh, Mr. Fitzpatrick,” I stammered. I had forgotten all about him. “How do you do?”

“All the better for seeing you, Miss Delaney,” he said, still beaming at me. “When you didn’t appear for our little assignation on Tuesday, I feared you had left the city without telling me.”

“Assignation?”

“You had promised to come to the races with me, remember? I had to go alone and had the most infernal bad luck all afternoon. You would have been my one bright spark in the day and cheered my gloomy mood, I am sure. As it was, I came home in deepest depression.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I met friends of the family unexpectedly and got taken off to their place.”

“You must come and have dinner with me,” he said. “I sail home for New York shortly.”

“I told you, I am currently staying with friends.”

“But surely your friends won’t object to your having dinner with a charming young man like myself,” he said, “or is there a jealous male among the friends who is likely to challenge me to a duel?”

“There may be,” I said, and laughed.

“I do believe you are turning me down flat,” he said. “Ah well. I can handle rejection as well as the next guy, I suppose, but may I not walk with you at least?”

“I’m only going on an errand for an elderly friend,” I said. “Nowhere exciting.”