Oh Danny Boy (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #5)

The crowd surged around us, laughing, jubilant, chanting Jack’s name.

“Help me,” I cried, but they were all intent on celebration and making too much noise for my feeble voice to be heard. Ahead of us I could see the tall, square shape of a black police wagon.

“In here, boys.” Quigley opened the back doors.

“No, please,” I begged. “He’s going to kill me.” They were holding my arms and my legs. I struggled but couldn’t move. The pain was so bad that everything was turning blurry.

“He’s taking you to the hospital, miss. You’ll be taken good care of, don’t worry.” The constable patted my arm as they lifted me aboard. “Methodist Hospital’s the closest,” he added. “Do you know the way? I’ll come with you, if you like.”

“No, you’ll be needed here,” Quigley said. “This crowd could turn ugly at any moment.”

They deposited me on a wooden seat. I bent over again as a wave of nausea came over me.

“She’s in a bad way,” I heard the constable say, “maybe one of us ought to stay with her.”

I grasped at his sleeve. “Yes, don’t leave me now, please.”

“What’s going on here?” a voice demanded and through the haze Sabella Goodwin appeared. “Officer Quigley, where is Miss Murphy? I’ve been worried sick. There’s a fire on the Bowery. Half the freak show has gone up.”

“I’m here!” I shouted with all my strength. “I’m here. Help me.”

“I’m taking her to the hospital. She’s been hurt,” Quigley said.

“Then I’ll ride along, too.” She started to climb up.

“No!” I shouted. I didn’t imagine he’d have much trouble disposing of the two of us. “Get Bert.”

“Oh, yes, the automobile. Very sensible,” she said. “You’re in a bad way, my dear. My brother-in-law has an automobile, Officer Quigley. He can take us there so much faster.” Then I heard her yelling, “Bert—over here. We’ve an emergency.” And hands were lifting me down from the back of that wagon.

After that I was only dimly aware of things going on around me. I heard Mrs. Goodwin barking out instructions, and I was carried to Bert’s automobile. Then I was being taken through hospital corridors, and a doctor examined me in a way that hurt even more. I think I swore at him and lashed out with my foot. But sometime during the night I lost the baby. I’m not sure whether I felt sad or relieved. After what I had been through, I was too numb to feel anything.

In the morning Mrs. Goodwin came in to see me.

“You had a pretty rough night,” she said. “I’m sorry that I lost you. Quigley told me you were in danger and sent me to find Captain Paxton while he went after you. I let him go because he was younger and quicker. Thank God he got to you in time before that monster—is it true it was someone in the freak show? He was the killer?”

I tried to sit up. “Wait a minute,” I said. “You said thank God he found me? Quigley? He was the one who was trying to kill me.”

“Quigley? No, my dear. He was the one who rescued you from the clutches of that freak.”

“Is that what he’s telling everyone?”

“Of course. He’s taken our men to the den where that depraved creature took the girls to be killed. Some of their clothes were still there.”

“And what does the tree man have to say? Hasn’t he accused Quigley? Hasn’t he told the truth?”

“He’s dead,” she said. “There was a fire in the building. Presumably he set it himself when he knew the police were closing in on him. He didn’t get out in time.”

The horrifying reality of this shocked me into silence.

“And Quigley is the hero?” It came out as a whisper.

“So what are you trying to tell me?” she asked.

“Quigley was the driving force behind all this. It’s true that the tree man killed the girls, but Quigley found him out. He let that monster continue with his killing spree on condition that he kill Quigley’s fiancée.”

“Are you sure of this?”

I nodded.

“That’s horrible. His fiancée was one of those girls?”

“Letitia Blackwell. The missing girl I’d been looking for.”

“Why did he want her killed?”

“An easy way out of the engagement without embarrassment to him. And it was Quigley’s idea to dress them up as prostitutes and to get rid of the bodies, and I know how he did it, too—he used a police wagon, like the one he was driving last night. Everybody is used to seeing police wagons patrolling those streets, aren’t they? If they remembered seeing a police wagon, they wouldn’t remember whether it was there before or after the body was found.”

“Cunning,” she said. “I always knew he had brains, but…”

“There’s more,” I went on. “He was the one who got Daniel into his current predicament. Quigley was leading the investigation, remember? Then Daniel was put in charge over him, and he saw Daniel go out to Coney Island. He didn’t realize it was about another case altogther. He thought Daniel was a threat that had to be removed.”