Oh Danny Boy (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #5)

As soon as I left City Hall, I turned in the direction of the Hudson. I had another sad task to fulfill. The great white shape of the Cunard liner, Ivernia, towered over the West Side docks. I asked if Mrs. and Miss Norton had already boarded and was escorted up the gangplank to their cabin. I found the cabin in a state of disarray. The maid was looking flustered, trying to cram several hatboxes on top of a tiny closet. Arabella jumped up as soon as she saw me. “Miss Murphy, how lovely of you to come and see us off.” She took my arm and led me along the passageway.

“You have news for me?” she asked quietly, when we were out of earshot.

“I do, but I’m afraid it’s not the news you were hoping for.” I looked up at those innocent blue eyes. “The worst, in fact.” Then I told her the truth, trying to spare her the most sordid details. “I’m sorry to be sending you on your holiday with such grim tidings,” I finished, “but I thought you’d rather know.”

She nodded, pressing her lips together to maintain her composure. “Carter Quigley. I can’t quite believe it. And all this time he was acting the distraught suitor.”

“Oh, it’s true right enough,” I said. “He tried to kill me, too.”

“How terrible. But you escaped unharmed?”

“More or less,” I said, and left it at that.

“It was most kind of you to take the time to tell me before I sailed. It would have been on my mind all the time. At least now I know. And, of course, I owe you your fee for finding out the truth so quickly.” She fumbled with her purse strings. “Will a check be all right?”

I put my hand over hers. “Miss Norton, I can’t take money from you. It wouldn’t feel right.” Even as I said it, I heard a voice inside my head telling me I was a fool. But I think I already knew that.

“But I asked you to complete a commission for me and you did,” she said. “It was a business transaction.”

“Then wait until you return,” I said. “Who knows, by then you may be a countess or even a princess.”

She looked at me for a second in astonishment then she burst out laughing. “I may indeed,” she said. “And you may even be Mrs. Daniel Sullivan.”

“It’s possible,” I said. “If he is found innocent at his trial. Mr. Partridge is not willing to release him from jail even though he knows the truth now.”

She frowned. “Then I’ll telephone my father,” she said. “He might be able to do something. He’s a very influential man, you know.”

A porter’s trolley, loaded with trunks and hatboxes, came toward us, forcing us to step outside onto the deck, where a stiff breeze was blowing. “I should go and leave you to your unpacking.”

“I’d rather be out here,” she said. “Mama is becoming quite upset by the tiny amount of wardrobe space we seem to have.” She took my hand and shook it. “Thank you again, Miss Murphy, for all you have done. I wish you only the very best.”

“And I you, Miss Norton.”

“Arabella,” she said. “And your name is Molly, is it not? A good Irish name. It suits you.”

“Have a good time in Europe, Arabella,” I said.

She nodded. I turned away.

“You know, I think I always sensed that she was gone,” she called after me. “Does that sound strange?”

I looked back at her. “It’s your sixth sense. You’ve probably some Irish in you after all.” I smiled as I walked away.



That evening, as I dined with Sid and Gus, there was a forceful knocking on the front door. We froze, looking anxiously at each other, until Sid got to her feet and opened it with some trepidation. I heard her say, “Well, would you believe it. Look who’s here.”

And Daniel himself stepped into the room. He looked terrible—unkempt, stringy hair, pasty face, and clothes that were now too big for his skinny frame.

I had risen to my feet, but was rooted to the spot. I wanted to go to him, to hug him, but I couldn’t make my feet obey me. “Daniel,” I said, “the commissioner let you out already?”

“The commissioner?” he said. “I’ve not heard a peep from the commissioner. No, it was Gentleman Jack who came and posted bail for me. I’m free on bail until my trial.”

“But there won’t be a trial, I promise you,” I said. “They’ve arrested Quigley. He was the one who did all this, who plotted your ruin, who covered up the killing of those young girls.”

“Quigley? Are you sure? Why?”

“It’s a long story,” I said. I was finding it hard to talk, overcome with emotion as I stared at him, and yet somehow unable to move my feet to go to him.

“Yes, Daniel. Take a seat and all will be revealed,” Sid said. “I’ll pour you a glass of wine or would you prefer brandy?”

He glanced back at the door. “I’ve got Gentleman Jack in the cab. He’s taking me home. But I just wanted to stop and see Molly first. And to thank her for what she tried to do for me.”