Oh Danny Boy (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #5)

“They may well have ties to the new commissioner,” I said. “Don’t they tell you always to start with the most obvious suspect? That’s what Paddy Riley told me.”


Daniel sighed. “Paddy Riley. I wish he were still here. He’d be able to get to the bottom of this with no trouble at all. He’d know how to pry or bribe the truth out of that gangster.”

“But you know I can’t do that, Daniel,” I said in horror.

“I realize that, and of course I wouldn’t want you getting mixed up in that kind of thing.”

I remembered, all too clearly, an encounter with Monk Eastman, boss of the Eastman gang, when I had come close to losing my life, or worse. “If you don’t want me mixed up in it, then why did you call me here?”

“I want you to take a message to somebody,” he said, leaning closer to the grille. There might have been a guard in the cell behind him, listening in on our conversation. It was too dark to see.

“All right. Who?”

He lowered his voice to the merest whisper. “My friend Jack Brady. Have you heard of him? Gentleman Jack, they call him, the Irish sledgehammer. He was a world champion prizefighter once, and he was counting on me to help him make a comeback.”

“Why Gentleman Jack? Did he always play by the rules?”

“No, he likes to dress like a dandy, or he did when he was in funds. He’d wear an ascot with a diamond pin at his throat—that kind of thing.”

“I see,” I said. “And where would I find this Gentleman Jack?”

He leaned even closer so that his lips were almost touching the bars. “He’s recently arrived in New York and I have put him up at a boardinghouse around the corner from my place. On the corner of Ninth Avenue and West Twenty-third. Mrs. Collins is the landlady. Tell Jack what’s happened to me. He knows what I’ve been doing on his behalf to set up this fight. He can ask questions in the right places.”

“And what would the right places be?”

“Places that he can go and you can’t,” Daniel said bluntly.

“And what about Arabella Norton?” I demanded. “You may not think she has anything to do with your arrest, but to me she’s the logical number-one suspect. Are you planning to send your Gentleman Jack to her first?”

Something like a chuckle escaped from his lips. “I can’t see Arabella receiving the likes of Jack Brady.”

“Then I’d better go myself.”

“I should have thought that would be equally disastrous—even more so,” Daniel said. “I don’t know what you’d hope to achieve by it, other than the indignity of being thrown out of White Plains.”

“I should have thought that was obvious—to find out if she had any part in your arrest.”

“And you think she’d tell you if she did?”

“I am a detective, after all,” I said. “I’m experienced at asking the right questions.”

“You could only ask the right questions if Arabella would agree to talk to you,” Daniel said, “and I can’t see that happening in a month of Sundays.”

“Surely she’d be concerned when she heard what has happened to you. If she’s not involved in this plot, she wouldn’t want you rotting in this filthy jail.”

“She might think I deserve to be taught a lesson.”

“So might I, for that matter,” I reminded him.

“True enough,” he agreed. “But I really don’t think you’d get anywhere with Arabella. Just go to Jack and tell him what’s happened to me. He’s the only one who can help me now.”

“You had me hauled in unceremoniously just to tell me to find someone else to help you?” I said. In a way I was relieved that I was being let off this assignment but at the same time stung by his lack of trust in my skills. “Why didn’t you have him brought to you if he’s the only one who can help?”

“Because he’s a well-known face,” Daniel said. “If the police got a glimpse of him, he’d be arrested and run out of town. That’s why he’s undercover at the boardinghouse, living there under the name of John Sykes.”

“John Sykes,” I echoed. “All right. I suppose I’ll do what you ask, since you obviously don’t think much of my abilities as an investigator.”

“Of course I do,” he said. “I’m very impressed with your skills, if you want to know. But I’m not risking putting you in danger. You’re not getting yourself mixed up in underworld dealings and that’s an order.”

I gave him a haughty stare. “It seems to me you’re hardly in a position to order anybody around. But don’t worry. I still remember my last encounter with a gang. I have no wish to repeat it.”

“Good girl,” he said. “Of course, there’s nothing to stop you from using your brain to help old Jack figure things out. He’s not the brightest button in the box.”

“You’re presuming I’d want to help you,” I said. “You haven’t exactly deserved my loyalty.”