In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)

“Will that be soon?”


“As soon as I can arrange it. If this liquid tests positive, 111 be back with a warrant. If not, I'llfindan excuse to come for you. In the meantime you are to do nothing but get well, is that clear?” His hand on my thigh was very unnerving, even though the thigh was under the covers.

'You're very masterful when you want to be,” I said. He smiled. 'For once I'm not about to take advantage of your weakened condition,” he said.

“Oh, so you are a gentleman, after all.”

“And you're not exactly looking your most desirable, my sweet.” He leaned forward and kissed me very gently on the forehead. I nuzzled my head against his sleeve, taking in the familiar smell of his pipe tobacco. It didn't matter that Miss Arabella Norton would be waiting for him. He was here with me now. That was all that mattered.

He pulled me to him and cradled my head, stroking my hair gently. Take care of yourself. Don't forget there is a very desperate person in the vicinity of this house. That person has already killed at least once. The next time will be easy. I don't want it to be you.”

“I don't want it to be me, either.”

“Good girl.” He kissed the top of my head again. “I ought to go before I am discovered and your reputation is ruined forever.”

'You take care of yourself as you climb down that creeper,” I said. 'You won't be much good to me if you're lying splattered on the trellis.”

He smiled as he opened the window. Then he swung his leg over the sill and blew me a kiss. I heard the creeper rustling as he climbed down it. Then silence.





Twenty-six

Something woke me just before dawn. It was still that gray, soft half darkness before the sun comes up, but I could hear activity going on in the house. Running feet past my door, raised voices and someone crying. I got up and reached for my robe and slippers. I had to hold onto the bedpost to steady myself but I made it as far as my bedroom door and opened it.

“Dr. Chambers is on his way,” I heard Barney’s voice. “Oh, do stop that wailing, woman. It’s not doing any good.”

I crept out, my hand on the railing to steady myself. Below me in the hall Soames ran to the front door—actually ran with coattails flying. This was such an unusual sight that I started down the stairs in my robe until I came upon Theresa’s maid, Adèle, sitting on a side chair, crying her eyes out.

“What is it, Adèle?” I asked. “Is somebody ill?”

“Madame,” she gulped between sobs. “She is dead, mademoiselle.”

“Theresa is dead?” I hastily made the sign of the cross, reverting to the religion I had not taken seriously for years.

She nodded and burst into renewed sobs, holding her lace handkerchief up to her face. Barney came out of his office looking haggard.

“It’s true then?” I asked him.

He nodded. “She killed herself sometime last night. Apparently she'd been hoarding sleeping powders and she took the lot. I knew that alienist was a bad idea. He drove her over the edge, that’s what he did. Ill have him in court for it. Ill have him horse-whipped! And her stupid sister who brought him here—she can go straight home, and that interfering cousin. I want the lot of them out of my house!” His voice had risen to a distressed shriek that echoed through the two-story-high hallway.

I put a restraining hand on his arm. “Barney, I know you're terribly shocked and upset by this, but don't go blaming people. Theresa has been living under a black cloud, as she put it, for years. Let’s pray she is finally reunited with her son and is at peace now.”

“Yes, let’s pray that,” he said and made the sign of the cross himself. “God, Molly, I lived in fear that she'd do this and now she has.” I could tell he was trying to master his tears. Then he shook his head in a defiant gesture. “That’s it for me. I'm selling this house and moving right away from here. I was so proud when I moved in here—Barney Flynn from the Lower East Side slums has finally made it next to the Van Gelders. But it’s brought me nothing but grief.”

“I'm so sorry. If there’s anything that I can do—”

“I'm glad to have you here, Molly. It’s comforting to know that one of my family from the old country is with me at a time like this. All of Theresa’s clan will come for the funeral, of course, and they'll all blame me.”

“Why should they blame you?”

“Because I didn't treat her well enough. Because I couldn't protect our son. Because I put her through hell.”

“Don't be too hard on yourself.”

He sighed. “No, you're right. I'd better get dressed before the doctor gets here and then wake up Joe and Desmond to discuss what the press might do with this and what sort of statement I should make. It still seems like a bad dream.”

“And what about your daughter? Should she be told?”