Oh Danny Boy (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #5)

More work had been done on The Tombs in my absence. It appeared that the building was being demolished around the inmates.

“I’m here to give a message to Mr. Atkinson, the lawyer,” I said before the constables could stop me from entering and swept past them. I said the same thing to the sergeant at the front desk, stressing that it was vitally important to his client that I speak to him right away. I didn’t know if that client was Daniel or not, but at least it would guarantee that Mr. Atkinson would speak to me.

“Wait here,” the sergeant said and indicated a chair by the desk. I sat and waited, listening to the annoying tap, tapping of the men working outside. At last I heard echoing feet coming down a passageway and the sergeant appeared again, followed by an anxious-looking Mr. Atkinson.

“Miss Murphy!” he exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Tracking you down, Mr. Atkinson. I told you before that I had important information for Captain Sullivan. I’d like to give him that information.”

“And I told you that you could share it with me, and I’d be happy to pass it along if it was relevant.”

“And if you chose not to, he wouldn’t get it,” I said. I was aware of the desk sergeant listening with interest. “I have the strongest feeling, Mr. Atkinson, that you have Daniel Sullivan already tried and convicted in your head. You’re only going to go through the motions of a fair trial.”

“That’s just not fair, Miss Murphy,” he said. “I assure you I am doing my best in a very difficult case.”

“I’d love to know who assigned you to this case,” I said.

‘I told you we have a rotation of defense attorneys,” he said. “My name came to the top of the list. Pure luck.”

“Pure bad luck for Daniel then.”

“I assure you, Miss Murphy, that he could have done far worse. Some court-appointed lawyers have no interest in anything other than collecting their fee.”

“But you have? Can you truly tell me that you are working with all your might to get Daniel Sullivan freed, even though you believe him to be guilty?” I demanded.

He went to say something then broke off as there was a commotion at the front entrance. The doors swung open, the sergeant leaped to attention, and Commissioner John Partridge entered, followed by a retinue of lackeys.

“Welcome, sir. The governor is expecting you. I’ll let him know you’ve arrived,” the sergeant said and scurried off down a corridor.

Partridge looked around in a bored sort of way. I held my breath, just praying that he wouldn’t remember me. Then he said, “Hello, Atkinson. How are you?”

“Well, sir, thank you. And yourself?”

“Can’t complain, although New York is devilish uncomfortable in this heat, isn’t it? I can’t think why you and I stick to duty before pleasure and don’t head off to the seashore like sensible folks.”

“Some of us can’t afford to, sir,” Atkinson said, with a rueful smile.

“And this young lady is already familiar to me,” Mr. Partridge said, his gaze now fastening on me. “A Miss—”

“Murphy, sir,” Atkinson said.

“Murphy? Now that’s interesting,” The police commissioner was frowning. “I seem to remember the last time we met it was Delaney, wasn’t it? You were part of some ladies’ league with Mrs. Astor.”

“That’s right,” I said.

“Fascinating.” Partridge’s eyes had narrowed, making him look like a large bird of prey. “I happened to dine with the Astors the very next evening, and she had never heard of you.”

“I didn’t say I was her friend. Just a junior worker in her cause,” I added quickly.

“Or your cause,” he finished. “Never heard of any Ladies Decency League or whatever you call yourselves. So now I’m really curious to know what your true motive was then, and what you’re doing here now. What are you—one of these scandal-mongering newspaper reporters?”

“She’s a friend of Mr. Sullivan,” Atkinson said, before I could answer. He put the kind of stress on the word “friend” that would normally be accompanied with a wink between gentlemen.

I chose to ignore him. “That’s quite correct,” I said. “I am Captain Sullivan’s friend, one of the few who haven’t deserted him or been scared off from helping him. And I am working with all my might to prove his innocence because nobody else seems interested in doing so.”

There, I had said it. I had thrown down the gauntlet, however unwise this was.