Deadly Kisses (34 page)

Farr's cheeks turned red. “If I want to see a whore, I think that's my own business.”

Before Francesca could rebut, Bragg said, “I disagree. We both know the press would take a liaison like this and blow it all over the news pages, until I dismiss you or you are forced to resign. You're no staff sergeant—you run this entire force.”

Farr bared his teeth. “Then maybe we should keep a lid on this, don't you think?”

Francesca could not contain herself. She leapt to her feet. “Were you with Rose the night of Daisy's murder? Are you the man she was entertaining? Because if she has an alibi for the time of the murder, we have been wasting our time considering her as a suspect. If that is the case,
Chief,
you have withheld information crucial to an official police investigation!”

He was on his feet, towering over her. “Don't you dare tell me about police rules and investigations! For some damned reason, the boss lets you in here like you own the station. But you're no copper—you're a little woman who fancies herself an investigator. I've known Rose and Daisy for years. I've been in both their beds! Yes, yesterday I took myself a little piece of action. But I was not with her the night of Daisy's murder. Why don't you check the logs? I worked late that night, right here at headquarters.”

Francesca was cowed, and she knew she had turned white, but her mind sped. Rose remained a suspect, but could Farr be put on that list now, as well? He had known Daisy for years. He had been one of her clients. “When was the last time you availed yourself of Daisy's services?”

“You mean, when was the last time I was in her bed? Not since the New Year. She was always hard to book and then she went exclusive with your fiancé—oh, excuse me, your ex-fiancé. I forgot, Hart dumped you.”

“Chief, you need to change your tone,” Bragg warned.

Farr looked at him, his eyes sparking. “She shouldn't be here and she shouldn't stick her nose in our business! We got our own inspectors and they're good
men
.”

“Francesca has been privately hired to investigate, and I for one am pleased that she works with us. The more minds, the better.”

“If you say so,” Farr said, clearly struggling for his composure. He faced Francesca with a cold smile. “Sorry if I got rude or crude. In the old days, little girls did not dress up and act like the boys.” He glanced at Bragg. “You want me to sign an official statement?”

“I don't think we need one. And I'll try to keep a lid on this,” Bragg said. “Thank you, Chief.”

Farr grunted and strode out.

Francesca collapsed in her chair. “What an odious man!”

 

F
RANCESCA SAT ALONE IN
the conference room with a cup of bitter coffee, a notepad in front of her. Two officers had been sent over to the Fifth Avenue Hotel to bring Gillespie in, but she hardly needed to make notes to know what she wished to ask him. Her mind kept veering back to the interview with Farr, and a shudder of revulsion swept her. With no information on Rose's supposed alibi, she finally asked herself if she seriously thought Rose guilty of murder.

Rose had loved Daisy so much. No matter how angry she had been about being rejected, Francesca could not imagine the other woman killing her best friend and lover. Such a heinous act would have had to have been committed in such a fit of rage as to temporarily make Rose insane.

She had no real reason to suspect Farr, but she had little doubt he could take a human life. Maybe that wasn't fair, but if he wasn't involved, then why hadn't he come forward to admit to his prior relationship with Daisy? Unfortunately, there was a
simple answer—he wished to avoid being associated with her, just like the judge.

“Francesca?” her father asked softly from the door.

Francesca leapt to her feet, stunned to see Andrew standing there. He looked uncertain and very weary. “Papa! What are you doing here?” she cried, filling with hope.

“I had hoped to find you at your sister's, Francesca, but by the time I got there, you had already left. An officer downstairs told me you were here. May I come in?”

“Of course.” Francesca wrung her hands. She had missed Andrew terribly, and seeing him now made her realize that.

He smiled gently at her and stepped into the room. Automatically, Francesca went to him and they embraced as if nothing were wrong. She then straightened his dark blue tie. “You seem tired, Papa.”

“I am very tired,” he said. “How can I sleep when you have left the house? Francesca, I was at an important supper last night for the Citizens Union—we are planning our next electoral campaign. I got home after midnight, but your mother was still up and she told me what happened. Are you all right?”

“I am fine,” she assured him, smiling. “It was just a tap on the head. Someone does not want me following a certain lead. Have you heard? Hart was falsely arrested because he was framed.”

“I hadn't heard, but I am happy for you. Did you see the morning's papers?”

Francesca tensed with dread. “No.”

“The fact that Miss Jones was Judge Gillespie's daughter is all over the news.”

For one moment, Francesca had been afraid that the fact that Daisy had been with child at the time of her murder had made headlines. She sighed with relief. “Papa, Hart is innocent.”

“I never said I thought him capable of murder!” Andrew exclaimed. “But the scandal has begun in earnest. He was actually
a topic of discussion last night. Everyone wanted my opinion on the affair, due to your involvement with him.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said that he is innocent and I changed the subject. Did he end the engagement, Francesca?” Andrew asked, gently. “I read that press release, too.”

“Yes, he did. You see, he
is
noble, Papa. He insists on sparing me from scandal.”

Andrew pulled her into his arms. “And you will still defend him, won't you? No matter what?”

“Of course. Nothing has really changed, except for a formality. I still love him, and he still loves me.”

Andrew stepped back. “The act was a truly selfless one,” he admitted.

Francesca bit her lip. “I am glad you can finally say something positive about Hart.”

“You still want to marry him, don't you?”

Francesca didn't hesitate. The truth was so obvious. She could claim she was eccentric and liberal, and that she had no use for traditional arrangements, but deep in her heart, she wanted to be his wife. She wanted that commitment the way she had never wanted anything else. But she was prepared to go forward with him with out any formal agreement if she had to. “Yes.”

“Will he be proved innocent?” Andrew asked.

Francesca nodded.

He touched her cheek. “When this is over, I will sit down with Hart and have a long talk with him.”

“What does that mean?” Francesca asked.

“It means I will try to lay my prejudices aside and genuinely comprehend the man. I will give him a chance, Francesca, to prove to me that he is worthy of being your husband.”

Francesca flung her arms around him. “Papa! I love you so much! I have hated being at odds with you this way.”

“Francesca, will you please move back home?”

In that moment Francesca realized just how much the living arrangement with her sister suited her. She had much more independence and the freedom to do as she pleased. “Papa, I am enjoying my visit with Connie. You know that we have not been spending very much time together, due mostly to my sleuthing, but now we get to see each other several times a day.”

“But you will come home?”

“In a few days,” she said, wondering how she could make her stay at her sister's permanent.

Andrew smiled. “I am so glad we have worked things out.”

“So am I, Papa,” Francesca said, smiling happily in return. And then she saw Bragg appear in the doorway. He said, “Gillespie's coming up.”

Francesca seized her father's hand. “I have to go. We are interviewing a suspect.” She quickly kissed his cheek and ran after Bragg. In the hall, she saw Gillespie step out of the elevator with a uniformed officer. He seemed annoyed and angry.

“What is this about, Commissioner?” he demanded. “I was ordered by your men to come here.”

“We have some questions to ask you,” Bragg said, gesturing to his office. He nodded at the young officer, dismissing him.

“I don't know what you could possibly wish to ask me,” Gillespie said, marching into the center of Bragg's office. He did not sit down. “You arrested Calder Hart yesterday.”

“Hart was released on bail. More importantly, we have discovered he was framed. He was falsely arrested, Your Honor,” Francesca said.

“The charges have been dropped,” Bragg added.

Francesca hadn't known that. She thought about Daisy's letter. She was not going to show it to Bragg, no matter how guilty she felt for withholding it. Hart had been through enough. “Your Honor, sir, did you know that your daughter received a significant sum of money last month?”

He started. “No, I did not. How would I know that? I told you,
I had no idea what had become of Honora until you showed me that sketch.”

Francesca exchanged a glance with Bragg. Softly, she said, “Sir, we have a witness who will testify that you were at Daisy's home last month.”

He paled.

“And we also have proof that the money she deposited, all twenty thousand dollars, came from the First Federal Bank of Albany,” Bragg said.

“What in God's name does this have to do with her murder?” Gillespie exclaimed.

“Your Honor!” Francesca was stern. “You have lied to me and you have lied to the police. You knew that your daughter was here in the city, using the name Daisy Jones. Yet you have insisted you knew nothing. Why, sir?”

Gillespie sank into a chair. “Why do you think?” He covered his face with his hands, apparently about to weep. “I am an elected official. My daughter turned herself into a whore. Why do you think I denied ever knowing of her and her new life?”

Francesca went to him, clasping his shoulder. “I am sorry,” she said. “And I understand. When did you first learn that she was in the city?”

“I ran into her by accident, outside of a restaurant. There had been no word, for eight endless years. We hired private investigators, Miss Cahill. They worked for me for two years, but they turned up nothing. We had given up!” he cried. “But on May 3, I saw her on the street as she was getting out of a handsome coach, looking as elegant as any lady. I knew it was my beautiful daughter the moment I first saw her.”

“And she invited you home?” Francesca asked.

He nodded, wiping at his tears.

“Did you tell your wife and daughter?” Bragg asked.

“No! They know nothing! They knew nothing—not until after she was murdered.”

Francesca knew that was a lie, for he could not look at them now. Had he returned to Albany and announced his discovery of Honora's whereabouts? Or had he privately confided in Martha? Perhaps Lydia had somehow overheard what had transpired. How ever it had happened Francesca was quite certain that had all three of them had known about Honora's life as Daisy by the night of her murder. “And the money?”

“I am her father,” he said. “It was a gift. I was hoping she would change her life. We wanted her to come home.”

“We?” Bragg demanded.

“A figure of speech. Martha and Lydia grieved for her for years, Commissioner.”

“I have one more question. When did she tell you what she had become?”

“She didn't.” He paused. “But she was living alone, unwed, and she would not come home. It was obvious that someone was keeping her.” He covered his face with his hands again.

Francesca took the opportunity to look at Bragg. He shook his head. Clearly, he also smelled a rat.

“Sir?” An officer knocked on the open door. “Rose Cooper is here, and she has asked to speak with you.”

“Bring her up to the conference room.” He turned to Gillespie. “Excuse us.”

“How long will I have to be here?” the judge asked, clearly intent on leaving.

“Just a few more minutes,” Bragg assured him.

Francesca followed him out. The moment his office door was closed, she tugged on his sleeve. “Rose must have some information she wishes to share,” she said in excitement. Perhaps this would be the break they needed.

“I doubt it is a confession of murder,” Bragg said mildly.

Rose appeared at the far end of the corridor. Although immaculately dressed, she was haggard with strain. Francesca wasn't
certain if she remained stricken with grief or if some other event had occurred to distress her. “Rose? Are you all right?”

Rose paused before them, shaking her head. “I doubt I will ever be all right again.”

“Let's go inside,” Francesca suggested. She guided Rose into the conference room, Bragg following. She hesitated and then decided not to waste time. “We know about your relationship with Chief Farr.”

Rose turned white. “You must tell him I never said a word!”

“It's all right. He knows that. Joel was following him and he saw you together.”

Alarm immediately showed on Rose's face. “Are you sure he doesn't think I told you the truth?”

“Has he threatened you?”

“Of course not! But he is chief of police. He can make my life miserable!” She glanced at Bragg with more worry.

“Did Farr promise you protection in exchange for your services?” he asked.

Rose shook her head. “No. I…I like him. We're…lovers. That's all—and that's no crime.”

Francesca had never despised Farr more. She had not a doubt he had availed himself of Rose's services simply by threatening to arrest her if she refused him. “Were you with Farr the night Daisy was murdered?”