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

shadows?"

"I'm stupid, I suppose. It never crossed my mind. I only wanted to get to Mr. Levy and see if I could help. I thought for a moment he might have been taken ill and knocked things onto the floor when he fell."

Daniel Sullivan was staring hard at me. "It's amazing how people manage to get murdered whenever you're around and yet you have nothing to do with it."

"Wait a minute," I said, anger now competing with fear. "You don't mean to tell me you think I might have had something to do with this poor man's death?"

"I wish I had an instrument to see into your head," he said. "I don't want to think that you're lying to me, but you have to admit it doesn't look good for you. I catch you here with the man's blood all over you, in the dark."

"I've just told you what I was doing here," I said. "And why on earth would I have wanted him dead? He was the one person I wanted to see, the one man who could possibly have freed Michael. He said he had a group shot of the mayor's party. He was going to show it to me."

"And how exactly did you think this group shot would help you?"

"It might have showed me the real killer, of course," I retorted.

"The real killer?"

"Supposing someone in the mayor's party saw O'Malley and knew that he must not be allowed to come ashore. That person took a huge risk, did not ride back with the others, borrowed a guard's jacket and cap, sneaked in, and killed him during the night. And if nothing else proves it, then this surely does." I pointed down at Mr. Levy's body. "Somebody must have found out we were onto this. He hadn't thought about photographs before. Now he had to make sure that Mr. Levy's photographs were wrecked before I got here."

Daniel was still looking hard at me. "In which case you could be in a lot of danger yourself. You're looking at the actions of a very violent person, Mrs. O'Connor. Do you actually enjoy courting death? What can I say to make you realize that you have to stay out of police business?"

"I'm trying to help Michael," I said. "I'm trying to make you see the truth that you're too pigheaded to see for yourself."

"And in the process you've just wrecked a perfectly good crime scene with your blundering. You've probably trampled and contaminated any evidence in this room."

"No more than you have!" I said. "You did your own share of blundering. I heard you."

He looked at me for a long moment, then shook his head. "What am I going to do with you? You realize, of course, that I'm going to have to take you down to headquarters to get a statement. What can your family think about you being out playing detective all the time--it's not wholesome for a married woman."

I was just realizing something. If I didn't turn up for communal supper and prayers at the Bible hostel, I'd be thrown out come morning. And I certainly didn't want to waste more precious time looking for a place to stay. So I did what every self-respecting woman does in such situations--I fainted.

Looking back on it, I don't think the faint was all put on. The delayed shock and lack of good food suddenly overtook me. I think I really did lose consciousness. The next thing I knew I was sitting up on a chair with my head between my knees and a strong hand on the back of my neck. My first reaction was that the killer had got me, and I struggled to sit up.

"Just relax, Mrs. O'Connor. You'll be fine." The voice was Daniel Sullivan's. Which meant that the warm hand on my neck must also belong to him. He raised me to a sitting position. "All right now?"

I nodded. "I think so."

"You had a nasty shock." He was looking at me with the same tenderness I glimpsed that time in the police station hallway. "Look, you can't go on acting like this. I forbid you to do any more investigating without telling me first. Is that clear? If I have to have you locked up for your own good, I will. Now I'm going to have one of my men take you home and give your husband a good talking to. He should know that his wife is out wandering round a strange new city at all hours, taking terrible risks. Maybe he's the one who can get you to start acting sensibly and make you stay home with the little ones, where you belong."

Now it was all going to come out. Nuala would spill the beans if nobody else did. They

already had my address. I tried to come up with another glib lie, but none would come. To tell the truth, all I felt like doing was going somewhere warm and safe and curling into a little ball.

"All right," I said. "I've had enough of danger, believe me. And I haven't gone looking for it, whatever you may think. It's just sort of followed me. I'll go home and stay quiet. You have enough to go on now, anyway--find out who was in the mayor's party. Find out who didn't return with them. Match the fingerprints to something in this room."