Oh Danny Boy (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #5)

“Molly! I can’t tell you how good it is to see your face.”


“How are you, Daniel?” I asked.

“Not too good. Fighting despair daily. Terrible cough. What about you? You’re looking wonderful. A real sight for sore eyes.”

“I’m just fine,” I said. “I’m doing everything I can for you, but I don’t seem to be getting anywhere, Daniel.” I was conscious of Mr. Atkinson, standing to one side, out of Daniel’s sight.

“What about Jack? Has he had a chance to talk to the Eastmans?”

“Jack has vanished,” I said. “Monk Eastman knows where he is. Whether that’s good news or not, I can’t tell you.”

“Jack has vanished? Gone into hiding presumably. He was awfully jumpy about coming to New York in the first place. Well, that’s not good for me.” He leaned closer to the grille and wagged a finger in my direction. “And that doesn’t mean that you’re going to start asking questions yourself. I’ve already made it very clear to you that I don’t want you going anywhere near the Eastmans’ territory. You do understand that, don’t you?”

“Too late,” I said. “I’ve already spoken with Monk.”

“Molly, are you mad?” The words turned into a new fit of coughing. He fought to speak again. “I expressly told you not to. How can you go against my wishes like that?” Those wild eyes glaring at me were quite alarming.

I tried to sound calm. “Somebody had to after Jack disappeared. And don’t worry, it turned out just fine. We had an amiable little chat, but he couldn’t shed any light at all as to how the money got into the envelope. Just that he didn’t order it put there.”

“An amiable little chat.” Daniel put his hands up to his face. “I’d never have told you anything about this if I thought you were going to take foolish risks. So what else have you done?”

“Saw Arabella, whom I don’t think is involved in a plot to ruin you. Also questioned the police commissioner, who might be our leading suspect.”

“Mr. Partridge? How in God’s name did you manage to see him?”

“Never mind. Undercover work. But I can tell you one thing—he was very satisfied with himself for having you arrested. So I thought I’d find out if you could think of a reason why.”

Daniel shook his head. “He looked satisfied because he’s a sanctimonious and pretentious prig. If he believes that I was taking bribes from gang members, he’s probably patting himself on the back for ridding the department of a corrupt cop.”

“So there was no bad blood between you before this?”

“I hardly know the man. We’ve never moved in the same circles. I’ve barely spoken five words to him.”

“And you can think of no reason why he’d want your downfall over that of other officers, say?”

Again he frowned, then shook his head. “When he first came on board, he shook hands and said he’d heard fine things about me. Of course, there were rumors that he is the archenemy of Tammany Hall. He may be planning the systematic removal of every Irish cop from the force, starting with me. I did think that at one time.”

“But then you’d soon have the rest of the force coming to your defense, once they realized what Mr. Partridge was up to.”

“And why go to all this trouble? He could presumably demote me or even fire me for having a hand in the prizefight. Planting money, saying I’m in the pay of a gang—that is more than removing me; that is destroying me.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Somebody is out to do just that. We have to find out who had a compelling reason for setting up the whole nasty little scene. Have you crossed swords with any member of your department recently? Beating out someone for promotion, maybe? Or catching out another officer involved in bribery and corruption?”

He sat silent for a while. “You think it might be a fellow officer?” he said at last.

“Your Sergeant O’Hallaran suggested it. He suggested a grudge in your personal or professional life. So that might mean another officer, or it might be a payback from some criminal you had arrested.”

“I can’t think of another officer who might have a grudge against me. I’ve been at captain’s rank for over three years. There might have been bad feeling that I made captain before a lot of older men, but surely that would have come to the surface before now. And my men respect me. There’s no questioning my ability to do the job. As to catching out a fellow officer accepting a bribe—we have a code of honor among ourselves. How any officer handles his job is up to him. If getting results involves slightly unorthodox methods, then the rest of us would turn a blind eye. I’d never snitch on a fellow officer. It would be more than my life is worth because one day I might need him to back me up in a jam.”