“I'm still thinking of the woman who puts flowers on his grave,” I said. “She must live quite close by and she must have been very fond of him. I just wondered who she was. And she had a little boy with her who would have been about the right age—”
“Come on, Molly,” Daniel exclaimed, shaking his head. “You're not suggesting that the child with her was really Brendan Flynn?”
“He didn't look anything like him,” I admitted, “but the pictures of Brendan as a baby all show him with long fair curls and dressed in petticoats. His hair could have darkened by now, and he could have turned into a sturdy little boy like the one who was climbing on the graves that day.”
“This is the wildest conjecture, Molly,” Daniel said. “I am sure no stone was left unturned to locate the Flynns' child.”
I glanced back at the train. Doors were slamming and a whistle was blown. “I just have a feeling we should find out about this woman, Daniel,” I said. “I can't explain it but I think she’s important.
Where would we start? Albany?. Isn't that where Morell lived and worked before he went to the Flynns?”
“We're going back to Adare to get you changed and rested,” Daniel said. Hereachedout to take my arm. I shook him off.
“I'm almost dry and with a comb through my hair I should look reasonablyrespectable,”I said. “And it’s still early. Let’s take the train on to Albany. How long does it take from here anyway?”
“A good two hours, and this is foolishness. We can just as easily go tomorrow or the next day. I can telephone the Albany Police and let them pursue the investigation.”
I shook my head and yanked open the train door. “You don't understand. I have to do this for Brendan. I could swear I heard his little voice one day, telling me to come find him”. Please, Daniel, let me see this through.”
“Tomorrow then.” He reached for my arm again. “You've just had a bad fright and you were being poisoned, for God’s sake. You need rest, Molly. You're hysterical.”
“No, I'm not. Fine. If you don't want to come with me, 111 go by myself.”
“Now you're being ridiculous.”
“You don't think I'm capable of taking a train to Albany by my-self and asking a few questions when I get there?”
“Not at the moment,” he said, “unless you have hidden money in the pockets of that dress, because you're not carrying a purse.”
“Oh,” I hadn't considered this. 'You could lend me money. You could advance me the rest of my fee.”
“All aboard!” Another whistle was blown. The station attendant had the greenflagin his hand.
I hesitated, then at the last moment I jumped up onto the train. “If you're not coming with me, I'll go to the police in Albany and get them to advance me money, based on your good name,” I shouted.
Daniel sighed and swung himself aboard as the train started to move. “What an annoying woman you are, Molly Murphy. Now you've got me going with you on a wild goose chase and you've still got bits of weed in your hair and you look like the madwoman of the Hudson.”
“Thank you for your compliments, kind sir.” I gave him a haughty stare and he burst out laughing. “Molly, what am I going to do with you?”
“You've asked me that before and I still can't answer it for you,” I said.
He sat down opposite me. “I suppose I can't ignore your fe-male intuition or your Irish second sight, can I? You've been right before.”
“I appreciate this, Daniel,” I said. “You won't be sorry, I'm sure.”
He smiled back. “What the heck. It beats having to play croquet,” he said andreachedinto his inside pocket. “But here’s my comb. The least we can do is to get half the vegetation of the river out of your hair.”
With that he set to work yanking the comb through my matted tresses. Again I was unnerved by his closeness and he must have felt the same because he suddenly handed me the comb. “I expect you can do this better than I can,” he said. “I'm bound to hurt you.”
I didn't answer that one.
Thirty-three
We should make a plan of campaign for when we get to Albany,” I said, and promptly fell asleep. The next thing I remember was Daniel shaking me and telling me that we were about to arrive. I had slept all of two hours. The remaining dampness in my garments had dried, leaving me redo-lent with the rather unpleasant smell of riverwater.
Two hours good sleep had worked wonders and I found myself starving hungry and ready for anything. I forced Daniel to stop at the station buffet for a ham sandwich and a glass of sarsaparilla be-fore we got down to business. I had expected Albany to be another little sleepyriversidetown and was amazed to find it a big, bustling city with tree-lined boulevards and an impressive capitol building.
In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)
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