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

I laughed. “He’s going to be one, Gus. What will he know about parties?” I looked at Daniel. I could tell he was picturing what Sid and Gus’s idea of a birthday party might be, with belly dancers and all kinds of bohemian folk.

“And besides,” I said. “I’d like to have his birthday right here in our own dear house. A proper affirmation that we’ve really come home at last.”

Daniel nodded his approval. “Come and see the upstairs,” he said.

Our bedroom at the front of the house had a fine new bed in it, and a wardrobe, and a chest of drawers. Liam’s nursery had not been furnished yet; neither had the back bedroom.

Daniel shrugged. “I couldn’t quite remember what babies need,” he said, “and besides, he’s grown so much recently. We can bring that borrowed crib down from the apartment but I’m thinking that maybe he’ll be able to go into a proper bed.”

“He needs something he can’t climb out of,” I said. “Or the Lord knows what he’d get into. He’s turned into an escape artist, Daniel. He’ll be outdoing Houdini any day now.”

Daniel smiled. “He’s certainly become an active little tyke.”

“We can’t wait to see him again, Molly,” Gus said as we made our way downstairs again. “He must have grown in three months.”

“He certainly has, and learned to make his needs known very strongly,” I replied, sharing a smile with Daniel. “His current vocabulary is Mama, Dada, and no.”

Sid and Gus laughed. Daniel opened the front door and we stepped out into warm September sunshine.

“Do you have time to come over to our house for a cup of coffee and a snack before you get back to Liam?” Sid asked.

I was dying for a chat with my dearest friends, but I hesitated, glancing at Daniel. Much as I wanted to hear all their news, I knew Daniel had been working day and night on a particularly complicated case recently. He never confided much to me about his work, but he had let slip that he was having a tough time with this one. A murder case, I gathered, and more than one murder involved.

“Thank you, but I think we should be getting back now,” Daniel answered, before I could say anything. “I’m sure Molly will take you up on your offer to look after our boy so that she can finish equipping the house as she wants it.”

“Molly dear, you can always borrow supplies from us to get you started. It would be too overwhelming to try to shop for everything you need at once,” Gus said. “We have more dishes and pans than we need, don’t we, Sid.”

“Absolutely,” Sid said. “And spare bedclothes and pillows. Come on over and help yourself.”

“You’re very kind, as always.” I turned to smile at them. “And I’m so looking forward to hearing all about Vienna.”

“Gus is becoming quite an alienist in her own right.” Sid beamed at her proudly. “Some of the other doctors working with Professor Freud were really impressed with her theories. Maybe we should have stayed, and Gus could have become an eminent scientist, a second Madame Curie…”

“No, we shouldn’t have.” Gus shook her head. “I’m not even a qualified doctor. Officially I’m not allowed to treat patients. Besides, you didn’t like Austrian food—too much cream and dumplings.”

“We must be going, Molly.” Daniel touched my arm to lead me away. “I should be back at work.”

“But you said yourself it’s the first day off you’ve had in ages.” I looked back with longing at Sid and Gus’s front door. “Surely they can’t begrudge you one day off.”

“It’s not a question of begrudging,” he said. “It’s a question of what is more important—my enjoyment or stopping a murderer before he kills again. I rather think the latter.”

“You’re chasing a murderer, Captain Sullivan?” Sid sounded excited. “You should enlist the help of your wife. She seems to have a knack for solving crimes. You should have seen her in Paris…”

“Oh, that was nothing,” I cut in, giving her a warning frown. I had decided not to tell Daniel about that harrowing business in Paris. At the time he had had enough on his plate to worry about, and when I returned I chose not to think about what I had been through.

“What are we talking about?” I sensed that Daniel was instantly alert. “Some business in Paris?”

“Oh, an Impressionist painter was murdered by a Jewish rebel while I was there,” I said in what I hoped was a breezy manner. “It was in all the newspapers.”

“And Molly figured it out before the police,” Gus said proudly.

“Well done.” I saw Daniel exhale in relief that this crime hadn’t personally affected me. “Yes, I don’t doubt Molly’s skills as a detective, but I’d rather she kept a good distance from my police work in New York. I don’t want to put her or our son at risk, as I’m sure you understand.”

“I’ll bring Liam to see you tomorrow,” I said as I took my leave of my friends. “You can tell me everything about Vienna.”