Tell Me, Pretty Maiden (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #7)

“It seemed to me that the girl had had a bad fright of some kind,” I said. “The way she flinched away when anyone tried to touch her. And yet there appeared nothing wrong with her except for extreme cold.”


“I wonder if she isn’t perhaps a mental patient, wandered away from her caretakers,” Daniel said. “She could be delusional.”

I thought of those blank blue eyes. “You may be right. If she is a mental patient, her family will have reported her missing by now.”

By the time the El reached Eighth Street, my petticoats and stockings had dried and I found myself regretting that I had not tried the ice-skating.

“Maybe we could go skating tomorrow,” I said. “Knowing Sid and Gus they will undoubtedly have proper skating outfits. I have already agreed to have lunch with them and with their friend Nelly Bly.”

“Nelly Bly?” Daniel exclaimed. “The newspaper reporter? She is an acquaintance of your friends?”

“Sid and Gus know everybody worth knowing in the city,” I said with a smile. “And she seems such an interesting woman.”

“A dashed plucky one, from what one reads,” Daniel aside. “She has put herself in harm’s way on numerous occasions, including traveling around the world in seventy-eight days. I’d dearly like to meet her.”

“Then I’ll ask Sid and Gus if you may be included,” I said. “We can visit the hospital in the morning, lunch with Nelly Bly, and then have time to fit in an afternoon of skating before I have to shadow Mr. Roth to his evening pursuits.”

“Couldn’t you take an evening off and let us extend our skating into dinner somewhere?” Daniel asked.

“And what if that’s the one night that he goes on the town, or meets with undesirable people?” I said. “I have been hired to do a job, Daniel. I don’t recall you taking evenings off when you were on a case.”

“That’s true enough. But in my case, I was on the trail of criminals and it was important that they were caught.”

“Oh, I see,” I said haughtily. “You still think that my occupation is not serious, is that it? I’ve been in dangerous situations myself, you know.”

“Which is why I would be heartily glad if you forsook it for a safer profession,” Daniel said. “But I admire your loyalty to your clients and your determination to see the job through. I’ll be content to wait for a dinner engagement until the assignment is over. When will that be?”

“I’m planning to observe Mr. Roth for at least two weeks,” I said. “If I have no hint of any deviant behavior in that time, I shall report to my clients that their daughter may safely marry him.”

“So any young man only needs to behave himself for two weeks to make an ideal husband?” Daniel asked.

“I didn’t say that. But two weeks should be enough to form an impression of him, and two weeks is about the amount of time the client is paying for.”

Daniel laughed.

“I’m starving,” I said. “It’s past lunchtime and we haven’t had a bite to eat.”

“We could go to the restaurant at the Hotel Lafayette,” Daniel said. “They do a good lunch plate.”

“We’re supposed to be economizing,” I said. “I’ll make you lunch at home. I’ve a good soup and some cheese.”

“Very well, I accept,” Daniel said.

Finally, we reached Patchin Place.

When I unlocked my front door, I found a letter lying on the mat. It was in a woman’s flowery hand, one that looked strangely familiar. I picked it up.

“Now who would have written to me?” I said out loud.

“Maybe it’s another assignment?”

“No. Letters to the agency are held at the post office,” I said. “I don’t want my clients knowing my home address.”

Never having been known for my patience, I ripped the envelope open. The stationery smelled of perfume. I glanced at the letter.





My Dear Miss Murphy:

I can only hope you are safely returned to New York by now. I have just received a long letter from Grania Hyde-Borne in Dublin, apprising me of the amazing events that took place. My dear Molly, I had no idea that I would involve you in such danger. I never intended to place you in harm’s way and I beg your forgiveness.

Please come to visit me at your earliest convenience. I would dearly love to apologize to you in person, and also to hear the truth about my poor Rose and about Cullen. And there is the little matter of extra money that I owe you, although now I fear I can never pay you enough for what you went through.

Oona Sheehan





I stood there with the letter in my hand.

“Who is it from?” Daniel asked.

“It’s from Oona Sheehan,” I said angrily.

“The actress?”

“The very same. The one who put my life in jeopardy on the trip to Ireland with her dirty schemes.”

“So what does she want now?”

“She’s writing to apologize in person, so she says. But I think the truth is that she wants to hear about what happened to Cullen Quinlan. She was in love with him, you know.” I didn’t add that I had fallen in love with him just a little myself.

“Cullen Quinlan?”