The Edge of Dreams (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #14)

“Mabel!” I yelled. “Mabel, where are you?”


Had he silenced her with curare? I ran from room to room, but they all lay in dusty silence. I pulled off one dust sheet after another, hoping to find her lying beneath one of them, but I didn’t. At least I knew now that he wouldn’t have killed her. He had rescued her from the house. He was planning to take her to South America. He believed, or wanted to believe, that she was his daughter.

I made it up to the very top of the house. The upper floor was empty and bare. I came down again. Surely he wouldn’t have left her in a hotel room near the docks, unless he had drugged her heavily? I had no idea how long the effects of curare lasted. As I stood in the front hall, I noticed wires running along the floor to the front door. He had booby-trapped the house. Then a chilling thought came into my head. Had he had time to turn on the timer before he collapsed? Where was it? Could I disable it again, or would touching it only set it off? I went down the steps cautiously and was relieved to see him still lying there. I followed the wires down the cellar steps and found what had to be the bomb. There was an alarm clock attached to it and it was ticking. Did that mean…?

I knew I had to get out now, but I couldn’t risk leaving Mabel here. I opened one door leading to a coal storage area. Then another containing a broom closet. Then at the back, there was a door that was locked, with the key still in it. I turned the key and came into a room lit by a high grating. A shaft of light fell onto a bed where a pale body lay. I ran over to her.

“Mabel? It’s me. Mrs. Sullivan.”

To my intense relief she opened her eyes, and I saw recognition in them.

“I’ve come to get you out of here,” I said.

“Where is he? He’ll find us.”

“He’s lying unconscious at the moment, but we must be quick.” I noticed then that he had tied her to the bed frame. I fumbled with the knots, cursing at the amount of time I was taking, wondering if maybe this bed was also somehow rigged to explode if she tried to escape. At last she was free and stood up, tentatively rubbing her limbs.

“It was awful,” she said in a trembling voice. “It was him, wasn’t it? He was the snake in my dream. I realized as soon as he came to my bedroom again. He bent over me and I knew. He was wearing something over his face before—a black mask, I think, so that all I could see were slits of eyes. Like snake’s eyes. Then he put something over my face, like he did the time before.” She looked at me, her blue eyes wide and terrified. “I used to go into my mother’s room when I had a bad dream. I’d curl up on the daybed in the corner. I saw him. I saw him come in the window, and he held something in his hand. I saw the whole thing, but I was too scared to move or cry out. When he was pouring some stuff around their beds, he noticed me.”

“And he carried you to safety down the fire escape,” I said. “Come on, let’s see if we can get out of here.”

Edward was still lying on the floor, his eyes wide and staring. I went and stood over him. I couldn’t resist it. “I’m taking Mabel now,” I said. “She wasn’t your daughter, you know. What an absurd notion.”

Then I ran up the steps after Mabel, who was heading for the front door.

“Don’t touch it,” I shouted, making her leap away. “It may have been rigged to explode. He’s got some kind of bomb downstairs. Let’s see if there are wires connected to the windows.” There weren’t. We slid one up, and soon we were both standing on the street, to the surprise of two passing women.

I grabbed the first constable I could find. “Get Captain Sullivan immediately,” I told him. “Tell him Edward Deveraux is at Eighteen Ninth Street, but tell him not to break down the door. The house may be rigged to explode.”

He looked at me strangely, as if I might be off my head. “I’m his wife, Mrs. Sullivan,” I said, frustration building inside me. “I’ve just been held prisoner there, as has this young woman. Go on, man. Move. Do you want the whole street to go up? Do you want a murderer to go free?”

He shot me a scared look and ran off.

“Come on,” I said to Mabel. “Let’s take you home.”





Thirty-five

“Well, here you are,” Mrs. Sullivan said as I came in. “Just in time for the little one’s supper. He’s been no trouble at all. Have you had a nice day out?”

“It’s been interesting,” I said, and I went over to give Liam a kiss.

“Is Daniel not with you?” She looked around.

“No. He has police work to do,” I said. “We may have caught the man he’s been looking for.”

“Well, that’s good. All’s well that ends well,” she replied.

I couldn’t tell her of my own fear—that Edward Deveraux would awake and escape, or that he would somehow make the house explode with Daniel in it. I sat, tense as a coiled watch spring, unable to eat, until he came home at ten.