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

Nineteen

In spite of Daniel’s instruction not to wait up for him, I undressed but lay in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the noises of the city night and worrying. What did the note say? Was it a specific threat to somebody? To Daniel himself? If Daniel was the one element that linked all the killings, then maybe he was now in danger—and if this was the last murder and the killer wanted to go out in a big way, then would Daniel be somehow involved in his horrible scheme? I sat up, seeing the streetlamps making small pools of light in the darkened alleyway. I knew what being a policeman’s wife would involve when I married him, but it had never hit home more strongly than this year … when our whole lives started to unravel.

I heard a clock on a distant church strike eleven, and almost immediately I heard brisk footsteps coming up Patchin Place toward me. I watched Daniel’s head of unruly black curls as he walked up to our front door, then the sound of his closing it quietly behind him. I got up and tiptoed downstairs. He looked up.

“What are you doing awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep, worrying about you.”

“I’m all right,” he said. “It’s the people I’m supposed to protect that I worry about. What use am I if I can’t do my job properly.”

“You do do your job properly, my love,” I said, going over to wrap my arms around his waist. “Nobody works harder than you do.”

“I haven’t managed to stop the murders or find the killer, have I?”

I didn’t have an answer for that one. “Has there been a report of another murder?” I asked cautiously.

He shook his head. “Not yet,” he said.

“So what did the note say, or can’t you tell me?”

He reached into his pocket. “I have it here. We’ve had it checked for fingerprints, but of course there are none. He is always meticulous.” He opened the note and spread it on the kitchen table. I leaned over to read. It said, Have you forgotten about me? Did you think I’d go quietly back to my grave? Saving the best for last. Going out with a bang.

“‘Going out with a bang,’” I said. “That sounds as if he’s planning an explosion.”

“It does. And the part about going quietly to his grave. What does he mean by it?”

“You said he could be acting on behalf of somebody else. Somebody dead. Seeking vengeance for them. But maybe he’s pretending to be someone else—someone who died.”

“What do you mean?” Daniel looked at me suspiciously.

I shrugged, realizing as I formed the thought that it sounded silly. “Maybe he sees himself as a masked avenger, a character from a storybook, righting wrongs.”

“Righting wrongs?” Daniel asked angrily. “What can a sweet mentally defective woman have done wrong? Or an elderly judge’s wife? You might say they led blameless lives. And how did he know them?” He looked up at me, frowning. “Who is he, Molly? What kind of man?”

When I didn’t answer he went on, “Sometimes I think that I believe him, that he is some kind of supernatural being. We still haven’t come up with any rational explanation for that train crash. Engineer and signalman are both sticking to their stories. Each swears by the disk he saw on the front of the train. It doesn’t make sense.”

I weighed whether I should share with him my own little plan to visit Nuala and use her boys to find out which urchin delivered the messages, but I sensed that he wasn’t in the mood to accept help from anybody, especially not his wife. I looked at him tenderly. “Come to bed now,” I said. “Nothing will be solved at this time of night, and you need a proper night’s sleep.”

“You’re right. I need all the strength I can get. I’ll have to report to the commissioner again tomorrow. He’s losing patience with me.”

“Things will look brighter in the morning,” I said. “Maybe it will be the day for a wonderful breakthrough. Finally, the one thing will materialize that makes it all fall into place.”

“Hmmph,” he said grumpily, but he allowed me to lead him up the stairs.

*

Daniel went to work at first light. In spite of the ever-present ache in my ribs, I decided I would risk taking Bridie to see her relatives. It was a case of doing all I could to help Daniel at the moment, and getting a description of the killer might be the one small breakthrough he needed.

I was prepared for the look of disapproval I received when I told my mother-in-law that I’d be taking Bridie to see her relations. It was only right that she should pay a visit, seeing that she was in the city, I said.

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” she asked, eyeing me with a worried frown. “They live on the Lower East Side, don’t they? All those people jostling you around can’t be good for you.”