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

When we had Liam dressed for an outing and safely strapped into his buggy, we set off. I was glad that Bridie was eager to push, as the bumping of a buggy over the cobbles would certainly have been uncomfortable for me. She did a grand job, and I only took hold of the handle to help her when we had to cross Sixth Avenue and then Waverly Place into Washington Square. The square had been Liam’s favorite outing last spring, before we’d had to leave the city in a hurry, but we hadn’t been back since, and I wondered if he would remember it. But I watched him leaning forward in his buggy making excited noises as he saw the fountain and the bigger children playing there.

We sat on one of the benches, watching the colorful tapestry of life going on there. Bridie looked wistfully at a group of girls, turning a jump rope and chanting as they ran in and out, one by one. I remembered what Mrs. Sullivan had suggested about her going to school, and decided it would be an excellent idea. She needed companionship of her own age, not to be shut away in the country with an old woman. I just hoped that Daniel would agree when I had time to put it to him.

Liam, meanwhile, was fascinated and watched intently as the bigger boys played noisy games. Some of them were running with iron hoops, others engrossed in a battle of spinning tops, just like the boys at home. Yet others were kicking a can around, shouting to each other in high childish voices that were on the verge of breaking. There was such an assortment of people in the park. Families dressed in their Sunday best. Old Italian women, head to toe in black with scarves around their heads, walking on the arms of old men with impressive nicotine-stained mustaches. The boys who were playing kick the can were unwashed and unkempt—part of the general ragtag of unwanted children, earning a crust as crossing sweepers or even petty thieves, but enjoying a carefree game the way children do everywhere.

That brought my thoughts to the street urchin who had delivered that last message to police headquarters, and my own idea to use Bridie’s cousins as my spies. They lived in one of the tenements, if they hadn’t been kicked out of yet another place for unruly behavior and not paying their rent.

“Bridie,” I said as if the idea had just come to me. “You know what I’ve been thinking? I think we should probably pay a visit to your father’s cousin Nuala.”

“Cousin Nuala?” she looked up, horrified. “But she’s horrible.”

“I agree she’s not the nicest person in the world,” I said, “but they are your only relatives and they would want to see you once if you were in town.”

“Do we have to tell them?” She was chewing her lip. “They need never know I’m here.”

“I’ll come with you,” I said. “Just a quick social call. And I was also thinking that perhaps they might have had news of your father and brother, and not known your address to contact you.”

Her face lit up then. “Do you think so? All right, let’s go then.”

I felt a great stab of guilt that I was putting her through this for my own devious ends. I almost called it off, then and there, but it occurred to me that they actually might have had news of Seamus and not been able to pass it along to Bridie. Of course it might not be good news, but it was always better to know, wasn’t it?

“We’ll have to wait a few more days,” I said. “I don’t think I’m up to taking a trolley yet.”

This conversation was interrupted by a squawk of frustration from Liam, still strapped in his buggy but itching to get down to touch the fountain or join the bigger boys.

“You’re not getting out here yet, young man,” I said. “You have to wait until you can walk better. You’ll fall on the gravel and hurt your hands and get dirty.”

I stood up, deciding it was probably time to move on. He started to bawl as we pushed him away, and kept it up until we passed under the arch and began walking along Waverly Place to the Hotel Lafayette, where Dr. Birnbaum had rooms—or had had rooms the last time I had sought him out. That must have been two years ago now. But I had been in this hotel since then … and the full, vivid memory of my night here after the fire came back to me. The terror, the grief, the terrible insecurity and belief that nothing would ever be right again all flooded through me once more as I stood in the foyer, now so tranquil and genteel with its wicker furniture and potted plants. Liam had been sitting contentedly in his buggy until we came through the door, but suddenly he let out a wail and held out his arms to come to me.

“Mama!” he cried. So he remembered too. I unbuckled his straps. “It’s all right, Bridie,” I said. “I’ll hold him.” And I took him into my arms.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” the clerk asked. He recognized me at the same moment that I realized he was the man who had taken care of us on that black night. “Mrs. Sullivan, isn’t it?” He smiled. “It is good to see you again in better circumstances. I trust that all is well now?”

“Absolutely, thank you. I have just moved back into my house.”

“I am so glad to hear it. We were so worried about you at that dreadful time.”

“You were all very kind,” I said. I shifted Liam onto my hip. He had calmed down but was clinging to me like a baby monkey.

“So what can I do for you today?” he asked.

“I’m wondering if Dr. Birnbaum might be available?” I asked.