In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)

“I really couldn't say, Mr. Van Gelder. I'm just a guest here my-self. Youll need to speak to Cousin Theresa and I don't think she’s up yet. No one was stirring when I left the house.”


“Oh dear. Have I come too early?” He pulled a pocketwatch from his breeches pocket. “Oh dash it all, it is early. Mother’s al-ways been an earlyriserso we tend to think that the rest of the world is out and about at seven. Never mind, I'll sit here on the steps and wait. It is most pleasant in the sun, don't you think?”

“Very pleasant.”

“Should we see if that Soames fellow will have some coffee brought out to us?” he asked.

I didn't like to tell him that I'd rather have died than ask Soames to bring coffee to me.

“Actually, I wasn't quitefinishedwith my morning walk,” I said. “If youll excuse me, I must get my full constitutional. Once around the park, you know.”

He smiled. “I say, that’s dashed athletic of you. I suppose everyone in Ireland is fit and healthy? Lots of hunting andfishingand all that? At least that’s what my friends seem to hint.”

I laughed. “We have our share of weakness and sickness in Ireland, Iassure you. Why, my own mother died of—” I broke off. “Of influenza,” I added, quickly substituting the unknown Mrs. Gaffney for the too well known Mrs. Murphy. “But I intend to live long and stay healthy.”

I gave him a polite little bow, then turned back across the lawn. As I glanced up at the house I saw one of the drapes on the upper floor hurriedly fall back into place. Someone was watching my progress.





Eleven

This time I headed in the other direction, to the right of the house and toward the wilderness area where I hoped to find the cliff path. I was in the middle of forcing my way through the bushes when I heard a great crashing through the undergrowth, as if a large bear was approaching. I spun around and snatched up a rock to defend myself, but instead of a bear, a red-faced Bamey Flynn came storming through the bushes.

“Molly!” he cried. “Where on earth are you going? Roland Van Gelder told me that you had come this way Not running away from us already, I hope?

“Of course not,” I said. “I told Mr. Van Gelder that I was taking my morning exercise. I had heard about the cliff path and I wanted to see if there was a view to be admired.”

“Holy Mother of God,” Bamey said, sounding more Irish than the Irish bom. “There is indeed a narrow path along the cliffs, but I wouldn't recommend it to any lady. It comes from the time when they had to portage canoes past the rapids here. Barely wide enough for a jackrabbit. Now, if you'd like to see around the es-tate, I'd be happy to show you around myself.”

“He took my arm rather firmly and I was escorted out of harm’s way. Then he continued holding my arm as we recrossed the lawns.

“I'm glad to have a moment alone with you, Molly,” he said. “I wanted to have a chance to talk to you about Theresa. How did youfindher?”

“She seems very sweet,” I said, not knowing what answer he wanted.

“It’s true. She can be sweet when she wants to. But remote, wouldn't you say? Frail, sickly. Almost as if she'd given up on life?”

“Definitely frail,” I agreed. “I was scared to shake her hand in case I crushed it.”

“She’s never recovered, you know,” he said. “From the tragedy, I mean. You did hear about our tragedy?”

“Of course I did. It was in all the newspapers.”

He sighed. “Theresa took it very hard. She loved that child. Well, I did too, of course. He was a darling little boy. The best.” He coughed, trying to stifle the emotion in his voice. “I had hoped that Eileen would help Theresa out of her doldrums, but she’s never really taken to the child. She treats her like a stranger.”

I didn't quite know what to say. “It was the very worst thing that could happen to a person, Bamey” I realized that I was addressing him by hisfirstname, as if he really was a cousin and I'd known him for years. He didn't even seem to notice, but nodded his head in agreement.

The very worst thing, but life has to go on, doesn't it? Theresa’s making no effort.”

“Ah, but you have a life outside the home,” I reminded him. “You have your political career. Theresa is surrounded by her memories every moment.”

“She could be a great assistance to me in my political future if she put her mind to it,” he said, “but she’s given up. We hardly entertain any more. I was surprised she agreed to have you at the house. No strange faces, no changes to her routine. It’s enough to stifle afellowand drive him away from home.”

I looked up at him, wondering where this conversation might be leading. “You owe her your support, Bamey,” I said.