Oh Danny Boy (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #5)

“So who hired you? Were you given instructions to try and make Daniel plead guilty?”


“As to who hired me—I’m part of a pool. My name came to the top of the list. I was assigned to his case. And nobody has suggested that I make him plead guilty. I am just trying to get him off as lightly as possible.”

“So you don’t believe that he could be entirely innocent?”

“That would mean that somebody went to extraordinary trouble—that somebody managed to slip money into an envelope being carried by a gang member, that they managed to bring the commissioner of police himself onto the scene at exactly the right moment—”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“And why would somebody go to all that trouble?”

“You’re his lawyer. You’re supposed to be looking into it.”

He swallowed hard, making a large Adam’s apple dance up and down on a scrawny neck. “If somebody was out to destroy him, then it would most likely be the gang members themselves; and you’d never get the truth out of them in a month of Sundays.”

“I’ve already asked the gang in question, and they deny that they had anything to do with it,” I said, relishing the look of astonishment in those fishy eyes.

“You went to the Eastman gang?”

“Yes, and I spoke with Monk Eastman himself.”

“Good heavens.”

“So you see, things can be done. I’m doing my very best, but I need help. Right now I need to speak with Daniel himself. They won’t let me into the prison again, so you’ll have to get me in.”

“Impossible. It’s hard enough for me to gain entrance.”

“They can’t deny an uncharged man the right to see his lawyer.”

“No, but ‘reasonable access,’ I believe, is the terminology….”

“This is reasonable access. You have new information for him.”

“New information?”

“Information that is vital to his case.”

“But I—”

“Use your imagination, for God’s sake, man,” I snapped. “And you’ll bring me along as your assistant. You are taking me along to record the whole thing in shorthand—being a very modern sort of office.”

“Oh, right. Shorthand. Do you write shorthand?”

“No, but I can give a good imitation.”

“I don’t really like deception, Miss Murphy. If it came to light that I was smuggling you in, it wouldn’t do my career any good.”

“Ah, but if you managed to win this case, against all odds, think what that would do to advance your status in the profession.” I leaned closer to the desk. “He was the one who got Daniel Sullivan off when nobody else believed he was innocent.”

I had tossed out this last thought, but it turned out to be a good one. I saw him digesting the idea.

“You really think you may be able to prove his innocence?”

“I’m doing everything I can,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt. “But I can’t do anything when it takes so long writing letters back and forth. If you can get me in to see Daniel this morning, I can get on with my job.”

“Your job? I understood that you were a friend of the captain.”

“Who is also an investigator who has worked with the police before,” I said, again relishing his astonished look.

“Good God, the police actually use female investigators?”

“When undercover work is needed,” I said in a suitably enigmatic way.

“Very well, Miss Murphy.” He got up and straightened his tie. “I’ll do what you ask. Let’s hope it doesn’t get both of us and our client into even deeper trouble.”

“It won’t if you don’t let on as to who I really am and what I’m doing there,” I said.

I felt more satisfied than I had felt in days as we walked together down the stairs.

It was only later that I experienced a moment of panic as I was ushered into the dark, dank cell and realized I was about to see Daniel face-to-face again. It would be the first time since I had realized my current condition—how could I possibly face him? Would he read from my face that something was wrong or different? My heart was beating so loudly that I put my hand to my chest as if this gesture could calm it.

I heard the sound of footsteps and a voice saying, “Your lawyer to see you, Sullivan. Sit down.”

Then the panel slid open. Daniel’s face appeared, his hair and expression even wilder than when I’d last seen him. He looked hollow eyed, sallow faced. He was wearing a filthy white shirt that almost matched the ashen gray of his skin.

“What do you want today, Atkinson?” he demanded. “If you’ve come waving a confession at me again, then you’re wasting your time and mine.” This tirade was interrupted by a fit of coughing.

“I’ve come because I was asked to by the young woman I gather is working on your behalf, a Miss Murphy.”

“Molly? Has she news for me? She’s found out something?”

“She’s here herself. You can ask her.” Atkinson moved aside so that I was visible to Daniel for the first time through the bars. I saw his face light up and my heart leaped.