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

“On the contrary. Nothing would please me more. But we have your career to think of. And our future. You’re an important man, Daniel. You have a fine future ahead of you.”


“Not anymore,” he said bitterly.

“Of course you do. It will all come right again, you’ll see,” I said. “Come on then, we’ll have a slap-up meal and drown our sorrows in a bottle of wine.”

I slipped my arm through his and we marched down Broadway to the restaurant on Thirty-first.

“This is more like it,” Daniel said, taking a sip of claret as the waiter put a large steak in front of him. “I’ve been living on edge for too long now, and so have you. You’re looking quite pale and drawn. You need some good red meat.”

I nodded. “It hasn’t been easy and today has been a strange, strange day.” Then I told him about the Hungarians and about Annie going with them.

“But that’s good news, surely,” Daniel said. “I’m relieved to hear that you no longer have to take responsibility for her. She’s gone where her own people can take care of her.”

“I hope so,” I said. “I kept asking myself whether I was doing the right thing in letting her go.”

“Why? Was there something wrong with these men?”

“I don’t know. They seemed respectable enough. They seemed very concerned about her.”

“Well, there you are then. The girl should never have been your responsibility. Let her go and stop worrying. So the only case we still have on the books is Miss Van Woekem’s nephew, and I doubt that we’ll ever get to the bottom of that one.”

“Did you have a chance to visit the steamship companies?”

“I did,” he said. “None of the shipping lines remembers selling a ticket to someone who resembled John Jacob Halsted.”

“And trains?”

“I showed his picture around at the train station that was closest to the wrecked car. Nobody remembered seeing him there, either. Nor at any of the businesses along the little main street there. The man has completely vanished, Molly. I think we have to assume that he is lying dead somewhere in a snowdrift. I don’t know how we’ll tell the old woman. It will break her heart.”

“What else could we possibly do?”

“I have no idea. But right now what we are going to do is enjoy this meal before it gets cold.” He attacked his steak with relish. I followed suit.

“I’d better take you home,” Daniel said as we came out into the chilly night air. “That wine was certainly heady.”

“I’m just fine,” I said, although I could feel the effects of the wine all through my body.

Daniel looked at me and smiled. “I don’t want you falling over on the ice.” He hailed a cab and helped me inside. In the dark confined space I was very conscious of his closeness and it seemed very natural for his arm to come around me and for my head to rest on his shoulder. “Now this is more like it,” he said. “It seems we’ve been at odds recently. I’ve had the feeling that you’ve been keeping me at arm’s length.”

“With good reason,” I said. “I know what happens if I let you get any closer than that.”

He laughed and squeezed me tighter.

We proceeded slowly down lower Fifth Avenue to the Washington Square arch and then stopped at the entrance to Patchin Place. Daniel jumped down to help me out. His hand was warm and firm in mine. “Here, take my arm,” he said. “It’s still icy in the alleyway.”

We reached my front door without incident. Conflicting thoughts were racing inside my head. He was going to ask to come inside. I knew that I should turn him away but I didn’t want to. I also knew what was likely to happen if I let him in. I fumbled for my key, conscious of how close he was standing beside me.

Suddenly the door opposite was thrown open and Sid and Gus came rushing out.

“Molly, it is you!” Sid shouted. “Gus said she was sure she spotted you coming down the alley. I’m so glad we’ve caught you.” She noticed Daniel at this juncture. “Oh, and good evening to you, too, Captain Sullivan.”

Daniel nodded politely.

“Molly, please tell us that you don’t have to be at that horrible theater tomorrow night, because we have something wonderful planned.”

“I don’t,” I said. “My assignment at the theater is over.”

“Hooray for that,” Gus said. “We were quite out of sorts because we hadn’t seen you for absolutely ages, weren’t we, Sid?”

“She was,” Sid said. “Positively pining. Wouldn’t eat her food. I’ve had to tempt her with foie gras and truffles.”

“You two!” I laughed.

“Can you come in for a while?” Sid asked. “We have to tell you our plans for our wonderful costume party tomorrow night. We’re all going to come as our favorite literary character and we’re going to cook meals that feature in several well-known novels. There will be prizes and Ryan is bringing some of his theater friends—” Again, she glanced at Daniel, who was scowling now. “You are invited, too, of course, Captain Sullivan.”