In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)

“Do I look like a weakling?” I asked. “Don't worry. I won't dis-grace you by trying to carry my own luggage. Illfinda porter to manage my valise.”


I glanced up at the valise now sitting comfortably on the rack above my head. Had I only been carrying my own possessions they would havefittedinside the hatbox,- however, Gus had been her usual generous self and loaned me some delicious dresses suitablefora stay at a country house, as well as the valise in which to transport them.

When I protested that I couldn't take anything so fine, and would probably wreck them, she laughed. “Molly, my sweet. You know 111 never wear dresses like that again in my present style of living. They belonged to a time when I was still Augusta Mary Walcott, of the Boston Walcotts, and thus expected to marry well. I fear they are a trifle old-fashioned as they've been hanging in a closet for the past three years.”

They're lovely,” I said, fingeringthe silk of the ball gown. “I've never worn anything sofinein my whole life. But maybe they are a trifle too lovely for a simple girl newly arrived from Ireland?”

“Then say they were lent to you by a well-meaning friend of good family, and that’s the truth,” Gus said. The fewer lies you have to tell, the better, I've always found.”

I had to agree with her on that point. I was going to have to keep my wits about me every moment I was at Adare, which was the name of the Flynns' mansion and also the name of the village in Ireland that Barney Flynn’s parents had come from. It wasfifteenmiles outside of Limerick, where his cousin Molly, and about a hundred other cousins, still lived. I had never been to Limerick in my life, but I had done my homework well, reading the guidebooks that Daniel had brought for me and studying picture postcards until I felt I could give a pretty convincing tour of that part of Ireland

The train picked up steam as we came out into the open, hurtling along between tall brick buildings that shut out the sun-light and prevented the smoke from escaping. It was stiflingfy hot and stuffy in the carriage. I looked longingly at the closed window, but I couldn'triskgetting a face full of soot. When the railway left the confines of the city behind, then I'd open the window. At present I was in the carriage alone, which was a blessing as I wanted to collect my thoughts. I opened my notebook and studied the family tree one more time. It was so broad and convoluted that I surely wouldn't be expected to know it all.

Then I opened and reread the letter from Senator Flynn. He welcomed me to stay at his home. He hoped I'd be like a breath of good Irish air and a tonic for poor Theresa, who hadn't been too well lately. It was only when I studied the signature at the bottom that I realized it hadn't been written by him at all, but by D. O'-Mara, secretary to Senator Flynn. So at least the odious secretary was one person who had remained in the household—one person I could pump for information.

To tell the truth, I was feeling more and more reluctant about taking on Annie Lomax’s assignment. I should have liked to view the policefileson the case, but I couldn'triskmaking Daniel suspicious about my intentions. If he knew I was going to be delving into a past crime, he'd have withdrawn his commission immediately. Poor Daniel—I must say he tries valiantly to keep me away from trouble.

“So what should I know about this kidnapping?” I asked innocently as he was going through one of his briefings.

“Nothing more than was in the papers,” he said. The chauffeur was shot on his way to pick up the ransom money. The child was never found. It was the most awful tragedy and I presume theyll be trying to shut it from their minds, apart from Mrs. Flynn and her séances, of course.”

“So this chauffeur must have been a really wickedfellow,“I said. “No conscience at all.”

“Absolutely,” Daniel agreed.

“You don't think he was in the pay of someone else then?” Daniel raised an eyebrow. “What are you hinting at?“

“Just that it seems rather a dashing and ambitious crime for a humble chauffeur to carry off alone. I was wondering if he had been paid to take the child and to collect the money while the real villain lurked in the background—and has wisely kept quiet ever since.”

Daniel shook his head violently, making those unruly curls dance. “Oh no, Molly Murphy. No! Absolutely no! I can read your mind like a book and you are not going to poke your nose into this. Trust me—the police carried out a most extensive investigation and came up with nothing, apart from the chauffeur. So put it from your mind and don't think of it again—and that’s an order.”