Murphy's Law (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #1)

"You're sure that was the man?"

"Not completely sure. He was in the shadows and the lights were very dim, but he's the only big one, with a paunch and lots of whiskers. That's what I saw."

"Only he wasn't here last night, Mrs. O'Connor. He was on the day shift yesterday and he left on the six o'clock boat."

"He can prove that, can he?"

"We'll check it out, of course, but why would he have any reason to lie?"

"If he had something to hide?"

He glared at me. "You're back to this something to hide rubbish again. If he wanted to rob immigrants, he could get himself stationed in the baggage room and help himself when no one was looking. He wouldn't be the first. But you don't carry a big, sharp knife around with you unless you're intending to kill. And why would he pick out one sleeping man over another?"

"He recognized O'Malley as someone he had a feud with long ago?"

"Rather far fetched, wouldn't you say? Boyle was born in upstate New York and he's never been out of the country."

"How do we know O'Malley was never here before?"

A brief frown crossed his face. "We don't," he said. "We've requested information about his past. Then we'll know more. But there was a guard on duty last night who covered the men's dormitories. He's a thin little Russian immigrant with a black beard. And he said no other guard was assigned to that area."

"They could be in on it together."

He stepped forward and grabbed me by the shoulders. "You know what I'm thinking, Mrs. O'Connor. I think you might be spinning me a good yarn to get yourself off the hook." Suddenly he seemed to realize that he was holding me. Myself, I was all too aware of those big strong hands on my shoulders. We stood there, just for a moment, like that, then he dropped his arms awkwardly and cleared his throat. "Now I have two courses open to me, Mrs. O'Connor. I can't hold you here any longer--this is federal property, but the idiots here aren't equipped to handle crimes of this magnitude. So I could take you straight to the city jail and hold you there for questioning. I don't recommend the city jail. The inmates call the cells there the Tombs--" he waited for the alarm to register on my face--"or I can release you to your husband, for now, on the understanding that you don't go anywhere and you are available to come to police headquarters whenever you are summoned."

"But you are going to check out that guard's alibi, and try to find the knife?" I suggested.

"You seem determined to teach me my job, Mrs. O'Connor. The knife, I'd imagine, is already lying at the bottom of New York Harbor. And it will be easy enough to check out Mr. Boyle's movements." He paused. "There is, of course, a third option."

Dramatic pause. I swear I could hear my heartbeat echoing in that tiled hallway.

"You could tell me everything you know about this man O'Malley right now. Save us both a lot of trouble. I don't think you killed him, but I still get the feeling that you're hiding something from me. If you're shielding somebody, remember this. The man who killed O'Malley is a violent, dangerous, opportunistic murderer. Do you want that kind of person out on our streets?"

I took a deep breath. How I wished I could tell him the truth and get this nightmare over with. "Look, Captain Sullivan, I wish

I could help you, but I really, truly can't. I swear by the Blessed Mother that I never saw O'Malley before in my life until I boarded that ship. I had an unpleasant encounter with him during which he made bawdy remarks and I slapped his face. But that's all. Now please-- I've got two little ones and a husband I haven't seen for over two years waiting and worrying about me."

Again he looked at me long and hard, then he nodded. "Off you go, then. But don't think about running away. The Irish network is strong in this country. We'd catch you again before you could blink."

"I have no reason to run away," I said. Sullivan beckoned to a young officer standing nearby. "Escort Mrs. O'Connor and her children to the inspectors and let them know that she may be handed over to her husband."

We followed the young policeman through the registry room and up to one of the inspection stations. "Mrs. O'Connor is free to leave," the young policeman said. The inspector glanced at my papers, then at me and the children.

"You're traveling alone? Is someone here to meet you?"

"My husband is waiting for me, unless he got discouraged after two days and went home."

He waved my papers at me. "And everything that's written on this paper is true? Can you read

or write?"

He was a young man with a high stiff collar and a big hooked nose. I sensed him looking down this nose at me. "Read Shakespeare, write Latin," I answered.

I saw his eyebrow raised. "In which case what are you doing at the bottom of the heap?" There was sarcasm in his voice.

"I married the man I loved. I didn't say I wasn't foolish."