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

“And what makes you think that this was caused by a ghost? It sounds more like a human prank to me. Surely ghosts don’t have to resort to wind machines. Their mere presence, wafting across the stage, would cause the same kind of panic.”


“You’re right,” I said. “But there’s only one person in the theater I couldn’t account for when the incident happened.”

“And does he or she have a motive for causing havoc?”

“I don’t know yet,” I said. “My next task will be to find out.”

“So you’re going to continue with the case?”

“Yes, I am. I’ve been given a part in the play. Come to opening night and you’ll witness your Molly onstage.”

“Really? As what?” He looked amused.

“A harem dancer,” I said glibly, then laughed at his reaction. “No, I won’t give away the part I play. You’ll have to come and see for yourself.”

“And how long do you think this farce will go on?”

“It’s not a farce, it’s a musical comedy.”

“You know what I mean. The farce of ghost hunting.”

“Until I get to the truth.”

“I hope she’s paying you well.”

“I hope so, too,” I said. “But who knows, maybe this job will turn out to have extra benefits. Maybe I’ll make a name for myself and become a big star. And you can wait at the stage door and drink champagne from my slipper. That’s what they do, you know, the stage-door Johnnies. I gather the chorus girls are constantly whisked off to dine with rich men.”

“Who then expect more than supper, I suppose,” Daniel said. He put his hands on my shoulders again, looking down at me with a worried expression. “Oh Molly. I can’t wait until this nightmare is over. I want to get back to my normal life again. I want to be able to support you so that you can stop taking these ridiculous risks.”

“And take up embroidery?” I demanded.

He laughed. “No, I don’t suppose you’ll ever take up embroidery. But I worry about you, you know.” And he hugged me to him. This time I let him, feeling the roughness of his jacket against my cheek. But my thoughts were racing. Did I look forward to giving up such a precarious way of life someday? It was true that I did worry about money when no cases came in for a month or so, and I had faced danger from time to time. But why did women have to make an absolute choice between their accepted role and men’s world of commerce? Nelly Bly seemed to have bridged the gap, I decided. Maybe she could tell me how it was done.





FIFTEEN

“I can’t stand here all day.” I broke away from Daniel’s arms. “I have so much to do, I don’t know if I’m coming or going. Talk about it never rains but it pours.”

I had just finished that prophetic phrase when a letter came flying in through my mail slot. This was a surprise in itself as letters were a rarity. My correspondence for the detective agency was held for me at the post office and I had no circle of friends outside of New York. So I picked it up with anticipation. The handwriting was perfect copper plate on good velum stationery. I opened it, scanned to the signature, and said in surprise, “Oh, it’s from Miss Van Woekem.”

“Good God,” Daniel said. I noticed he’d been doing a lot of swearing around me recently. “What can she want?”

“If you hold your horses a minute I’ll tell you,” I said. I read the note out loud. “Dear Miss Murphy. I must speak to you immediately on a matter of great urgency. Please call on me at your earliest convenience.” These last two words underlined boldly.

“Well, I’ll be . . . ,” Daniel said, without finishing the sentence. “What on earth can she want so urgently with you?”

Miss Van Woekem, I should perhaps explain, was an elderly lady of impeccable pedigree, not prone to flights of fancy or to exaggeration. She also happened to be godmother to a certain Miss Arabella Norton, Daniel’s erstwhile betrothed.

“Maybe Arabella has displeased her and she wishes to make me her goddaughter instead,” I joked, but Daniel continued to frown. “This would happen now, when I’ve no time,” I said, “but I suppose I’ll have to go. I’m rather fond of the old thing and she does sound upset.”

“Perhaps I should go with you,” Daniel suggested. “I might be able to help.”

“I’m not sure, Daniel,” I said. “It may be something she wants to keep private from her usual circle and she counts you among them.”

“Counted,” Daniel said. “No longer.”

“All the same I think I had better go alone. I don’t know if this is a personal matter or a professional one. I’ll report back to you if I’m not required to keep confidentiality.”

“As you wish,” Daniel said, feigning indifference.

I patted his cheek. “You are a silly thing. You know very well that you wouldn’t take me with you if you were summoned on police business.”

“Of course not. It would be more than my job is worth.”