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

Daniel helped me in and the constable climbed into the backseat again. “Where to now, sir?”


“I think I’d like to examine the wreck,” he said, “and then, if your sergeant wouldn’t mind, I’d like to come back with an item of the missing man’s clothing and go over the area thoroughly with dogs.”

“You won’t find him, sir. He’s long gone,” the constable said. “We’d have heard by now if he was still hiding out around here.”

“Aren’t there marshes nearby?”

“Well, yes, there is marshland along the side of the sound, about half a mile from here, it would be. But those marshes are awful bleak and exposed. Not easy for a man to find a place to hide in the wintertime. Not much fun in the summer, either.”

Daniel started the motor and reversed carefully. The road was icy and we had no wish to repeat the disaster. Soon, with the sergeant’s blessing, the constable was opening up a yard in an alleyway and we saw the motor car for ourselves. It was a sorry sight, half hidden under a new dusting of snow. I felt sick and turned away. From the blackened state of the twisted metal, it looked like there had been a fire at some point. The red upholstery in the front seat was scorched and ripped. The backseat was intact, however, and Daniel examined it closely.

“Here’s a small prize,” he said. And he held up a long blonde hair. “Maybe Halsted wasn’t alone that night.”

“We know he was hoping to meet a young lady,” I agreed, “but why would her hair have been in the backseat?”

Daniel looked at me, went to say something, then thought better of it. “Of course we have no reason to suppose that the hair was from that night. I’m sure that he frequently transported young women, given what we know of his way of life, but it might be worth checking whether a young blonde woman has disappeared from New Haven or the surrounding area.”

“It’s too bad my speechless girl has chestnut hair,” I said.

Daniel shook his head. “I think we should rejoice that she is dark, because otherwise it would mean that the great trauma that robbed her of her senses was suffered at the hands of Halsted, and I would hate to have to break that news to his aunt.”

Nothing else was forthcoming from the automobile. We spoke with the sergeant, then drove to farms in the area, but none of the farm folk had any information for us. If John Jacob Halsted had managed to walk away from the damaged automobile, he had not sought sanctuary anywhere nearby. At least, he had not come knocking on any door and no trace of him had been found in barns or outbuildings. I now truly began to believe that he was a scoundrel after all, and that he had managed to get away safely with the loot.

“The next step should be to approach this from the items that were stolen,” Daniel said on the way home. “We’ll get a good description of them and they’ll have to show up somewhere. I’ll make some inquiries. I have some connections with fences in the area. They’ll let me know if any of the objects have shown up.”

“Poor Miss Van Woekem,” I said. “I rather think that we’ll have no good news for her, however hard we try.”

“You can’t pass judgment until you know all the facts,” Daniel said.

“Now who is being the optimist?” I asked.





TWENTY-SIX

On Tuesday morning I woke up with a knot in my stomach, as if something big was about to happen. Then I remembered—opening night at the theater. Although I had an almost invisible part in the play, tonight I’d be doing it before several hundred people. And tonight the ghost would have a full house to perform to. I had to admit that I felt angry and frustrated with myself. I’d been there, onstage, observing for two nights and had discovered nothing. If somebody was playing a cruel prank against Miss Lovejoy, then I had no idea who. I had reason to suspect Desmond Haynes, but he was certainly nowhere near that jumping jug, and I hadn’t seen him anywhere near the wind machine, either. And Blanche had threatened not to open as planned. Why would Desmond want his show to fail? Why would anyone in that theater want the show to close? And yet there was only one way into the theater and that was past Henry.

I had a distinct feeling that Miss Lovejoy would be dispensing with my services very rapidly if I didn’t make some progress. I just prayed that nothing would happen to mar tonight’s opening.

In the meantime I had plenty to keep me occupied. I fixed breakfast for Annie, then stayed with her while Dr. Birnbaum saw her. Although I didn’t think we made any progress in the latest session the doctor seemed pleased. “I sense a breakthrough may be coming soon,” he said. “She is beginning to trust us, and complete trust is needed for hypnotism to work favorably.”