Thirty-one
I fussed and fumed as my transportation crawled back to the Upper East Side, driven by my anger and a sense of urgency. Was there a cure for thallium poisoning? Would the doctor believe me and would he know how to treat her if he did? And would Daniel have received my message yet? I now realized we were dealing with a cold-blooded and ruthless killer who was even prepared to kill the girl he professed to love. I hoped that Emily’s door had a strong lock on it and that we could hold out until Daniel got there. I ran all the way from the El station. I was gasping for breath by the time I had climbed all those flights of stairs. I went to tap on Emily’s door and it swung silently open. The room was in complete darkness with the heavy drapes drawn. I could make out the figure of a man bending low over the bed.
“Oh, Doctor,” I said breathlessly, “I’m sorry, I wanted to be here when you arrived but—”
The man started at the sound of my voice and straightened up. Then I saw that it wasn’t a strange doctor at all. It was Ned. In a flash I also saw the pillow he had been holding over Emily’s face. I rushed at the bed, and the pillow fell to the floor. Emily gave a mighty gasp and started coughing.
“You—you animal!” I screamed at him. “You pretended to love her and you do this? You couldn’t even wait for her to die slowly.” I lifted Emily’s head and gave her a sip of water. “You’re going to be all right,” I said. “Lie still.”
“Molly, he—he,” she started to say.
“I know. I know everything.”
Ned had backed away from me and was now standing by the door. At first I thought he was going to make a run for it, but then I watched him turn the key in the lock and give me a triumphant smile. “You’re right,” he said. “I couldn’t believe it when I found out that her best friend was my own half sister. How perfect a chance. But Emily was too smart for her own good. No good ever comes of educating women. She should have kept her nose out of my business. And so should you. Now you’ve sealed your own fate.”
I actually laughed. “Don’t be stupid,” I said. “Emily might be lying sick in bed and easy to smother, but in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m a strong, healthy woman. And what’s more, a doctor is due here any second, and my young man, Captain Sullivan of the New York police, has been testing that face cream and will be here any moment as well.”
“No problem,” Ned said, reaching into his pocket. “It will only take me a moment to get rid of you.” I was half expecting a gun, and I heaved a sigh of relief when I saw instead that he had brought out a small glass bottle. He opened it and a sweet, sickly smell filled the room. Suddenly I knew what that smell was. It was chloroform. As I watched, fascinated like a rabbit confronted by a snake, he reached into the other pocket and produced a gauze pad.
“And where do you think you’d go if you kill us?” I demanded. “They’re going to find you soon enough. They already know you put the poison in the cream and that you killed Fanny Poindexter. You can’t get away, you know.”
“Yes, I can. I will.” But there was a hint of desperation in his voice. “There are ships leaving New York every hour. With my knowledge and experience they’d take me on as a ship’s doctor, no questions asked. And I’ll spend a few years in the Orient, or even on the West Coast, then come back with a new name and a new look when the hue and cry has died down.”
“You’d leave your mother to face the music?” I said, trying to appear calm and in control. “Hasn’t she suffered enough for you?”
“I did this for her,” he said angrily. “In revenge for what that brute made her go through. I went to my father. I thought he might see how well I’d turned out and recognize me as his son. But he chased me away. He told me if I ever came near him again he’d call the police. So I paid him back.”
“Only he wasn’t your father,” I said.
“What do you mean?” His dark eyes flashed with anger. “Of course he was.”
“I’ve just been to see your mother. She said you’d latched on to the idea of Mr. Bradley as your father and she hadn’t had the heart to disillusion you.”
“No,” he said. “That’s rubbish.” But I heard the hesitancy in his voice.
“It’s true. She never really knew who your father was. It could have been any of the men who paid her for the pleasure.”