In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)

“It must have been terrible.”


He nodded. “I helped them search, you know. Poor old Bamey Flynn was frantic. They never found the kid, of course, even using dogs.”

I shuddered and wished I had let that maid bring my wrap after all.

“Were you going somewhere, or would you care to accompany me to the house?” Roland asked. “I'm never quite easy when Barney Flynn’s around.”

“Barney? He seems an amiable enough fellow.”

“You're his cousin, my dear. And of course he’s damnably amiable when he wants to be. Charm the hind leg off a donkey, so my father says. But he and the old man were deadly enemies until recently. Until he got himself elected to the Senate, in fact. Oh, they had some great shouting matches, the pair of them.”

“Your father was running for the same office, I believe?”

Roland grinned. “He held the office in the state legislature, Miss Gaffney. Had done throughfiveelections. Barney Flynn used every dirty trick in the book to get my father out. Every dirty trick known to New York Irish politics—bribery, bully boys, the lot.”

“Oh.” I couldn't think of anything else to say. I had lived in New York City long enough to have witnessed those things happening. The Irish in New York were known for dirty politics.

“Look, I'm sure it wasn't all his fault,” Roland said. “He seems like a nice enoughfellow. It’s the Tammany machine. It kicks into gear when they've a candidate running. You should have seen the gears working when Barney decided to run for Senate—” He held a trailing shrub aside and we stepped out onto the lawns. “And lucky for him he had such a machine. The child was kidnapped a month be-fore the election. Barney was in no state to get out and stump.”

“Poor man,” I said. “How terrible for him.”

“Absolutely. But the sympathy vote didn't hurt him either. I heard he was behind in the polls until that happened.”

I looked at Roland’s affable face with distaste. Beneath that pleasant exterior there was clearly a deep-seated animosity toward Barney Flynn. “How did you manage to get in here?” I asked. “Is there a way between the properties?”

“Short cut.” He grinned like a naughty schoolboy. “Not many people know about it. Mother would think it awfully common to squeeze through a hedge, but I wasn't about to walk miles to the road, or take the time to saddle the mare.”

“Ah.” I assigned that fact to my mental jottings. “And is that what the buder referred to as the cliff path?”

“Oh no. That’s on the other side. There are no cliffs between our place and Adare. The real cliffs are between Adare and Jones Point. It’s an absolute wilderness over there. Make your way up that mountain and you'd think you were miles from civilization.”He looked up at the rocky crags, now glowing with the rays of the early morning sun. “I expect they buried the child over there. That’s what I would have done.”

I stared again at the tangled wilderness and shuddered. It was too painful to think about.

“I do hope you're coming to dinner tonight, Miss Gaffney,” Roland said.

“If I'm invited.”

“Oh, absolutely. That’s why Mother sent me over. She wants to find out how many she can expect. It should be a jolly evening. We have visitors from your part of the world. A couple of eligible bachelors, in fact, over here looking for rich American brides.”

“What about yourself?” I asked. “Are you an eligible bachelor too?”

He blushed like a schoolgirl. “Definitely, but please don't set your cap at me, Miss Gaffney, not unless you're terriblyrich, that is. You see, the old man’s fortune has gone downhill. We might even have to sell the place here. So it’s up to me to snag an heiress if I want to keep up the style to which I'm accustomed.”

“I'm afraid I'm not at all an heiress, Mr. Van Gelder. So I must remind myself not to be swept away by your charm.”

He let the sarcasm wash over him and blushed again. “Gee, Miss Gaffney,” he stammered.

A likable idiot, I decided.

As I was about to lead him to the front door, he grabbed my arm. ’So have you had a séance yet?” he whispered.

“Yes, last night.”

“And did things float around the room and heads appear and such?”

“Something of the kind, yes.”

His face lit up. “I'm dying to see it for myself. So is Mother. She is most insistent that the Misses Sorensen know they will be guests of honor at our dinner. To tell the truth, she really had her nose put out of joint when she heard that the Sorensen Sisters had agreed to come to Theresa Flynn. They'd snubbed her invitations for years, you know. So between the two of us she’s secretly hoping for a little séance over at our place. What do you think the chances are?”