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

The smile left his face instantly. “On the contrary. I do take you seriously, and you have come up with a link that none of us found. But the link could have been through anyone at the bank—a disgruntled employee, for example. We can’t jump on Marcus Deveraux because he is now one of the partners.”


“There’s something else I found out today,” I said. “Another link, if you will.”

“You’re full of surprises,” he said.

“Listen.” I wagged at finger warningly at him. “I found out who paid a street child to deliver that note to your headquarters.”

Now he looked genuinely impressed, and surprised. “You did? How?”

“I have my methods,” I said. “And my spies.”

“Ah. Nuala’s brood. The little Eastmans.”

“Exactly. And the person was a young man who looked like a student, according to Thomas.”

“Like a student? Then he was probably being paid to deliver it himself.”

“That’s what I thought,” I said, “but there’s something else. Listen, Daniel. The other day I went to the café where Simon Grossman was poisoned. Two things were obvious: one, that it would be relatively easy to put a few drops of poison into a coffee cup while a group at a table was in deep discussion, and two—that most people there were regulars, and students. An outsider who was not one of them would have been noticed. I certainly was as soon as I entered.”

“Ah, but you’re a pretty woman. Young men notice such things.”

“Thank you for the compliment, sir,” I said, “but I think the same would have been true for any stranger, especially one walking between tables to find Simon Grossman.”

“So what are you implying by this?”

“That the person who put the cyanide into Simon Grossman’s drink must not have stood out. He must have looked like one of them. Another student.”

I saw the spark in his eyes. “Ah. So you’re saying that students might be being used by somebody to do his dirty work?”

“Exactly. Students are always short of money. They always have things they don’t want their parents to know about. Someone rich and powerful—someone like Marcus Deveraux—could use them to carry out his plans.” I paused, swinging my legs over the side of the bed now and facing him. “Whoever committed most of these crimes had to be agile enough to climb up the side of a building and in through a window.”

“You’re right,” he said. “It would have to have been someone agile and daring.”

“So you’ll interview Marcus Deveraux?”

“I will. Since his partner’s daughter has been murdered, I’ll have a valid reason to talk to him.”

Something just struck me as he talked and I watched his face. “You called him an arrogant little prig. Do you know him? Is he young?”

“No, he must be mid-thirties by now. Around my age. I met him long ago.”

“How did you know him? Was he at Columbia with you or something?”

“No. I had to question him when I was investigating his father’s death. I was newly promoted to detective and probably looked too young to do the job, and he was horribly patronizing to me, even though he was certainly no older.”

“His father’s death? His father was murdered?” I almost shouted out the words.

Daniel was frowning now. “We were never sure if it was murder or just a horrible accident, but the person we thought might have done it wouldn’t cooperate with us, and claimed he had nothing to do with it.”

“Who was this person?”

“Edward Deveraux, the younger son.”

“The younger son.” I stared at him. “There was a younger son who was involved in a murder, Daniel? And you haven’t considered that he might be part of your investigation?’

I realized I had been yelling.

“Hold your horses!” Daniel put out a hand and touched my shoulder as I tried to stand up. “We’ve only just figured out this minute that this could have anything to do with the Deveraux family.”

“Thanks to me,” I couldn’t resist adding.

“Thanks to you,” he agreed. “But until now, until we considered the murder of the Hamilton couple a part of this same crime spree, the Deveraux name would never have come up.”

“But it has now, and you have the most likely suspect—someone who killed his father, Daniel.”

“He always claimed he was innocent,” Daniel pointed out.

“Could he have been innocent?”

“Hardly. The court didn’t think so at the time. He was a strange, twisted individual, antisocial, reclusive. He had quarreled with his father that morning and said, ‘It’s time you died, old man.’ Later, raised voices were heard coming from the father’s study, then Edward was found with blood all over him. Pretty conclusive, wouldn’t you say, when there were only servants in the house apart from him?”

“So where is he now?” I was so excited I could hardly breathe.

“He was found not guilty by reason of insanity and sent to an institution for the criminally insane for life. I believe, because his family had clout and money, that it was agreed he could be locked in a private institution out in the country.”