Murder in Chelsea (23 page)

12

S
ARAH
SLEPT WELL THAT NIGHT AND ROSE EARLY, SINCE
she’d asked Malloy to come over this morning to discuss their plans. To pass the time, she decided to finish the cleaning Malloy had interrupted yesterday, and when she entered her office, she noticed the box he had brought with him from Emma Hardy’s room still sitting on her desk. They’d both forgotten all about it.

She picked it up and carried it into the kitchen, thinking she’d go through it in case it contained something Malloy should know about. Then someone tapped on her back door.

“I’m sorry to bother you so early,” Mrs. Ellsworth said, handing her a plate of cookies. “But I saw you leaving with Mr. Malloy yesterday, and I thought he might have given you some news.”

“Not good news, I’m afraid. Coffee?”

“Oh, yes, thank you, but I can’t stay long. Nelson and I are taking his young lady friend to a museum for the day.”

“How exciting,” Sarah said. Mrs. Ellsworth’s son had been unlucky in love before, and everyone was glad to see him keeping company with a nice young woman. “This sounds serious.”

“Well, her family is hoping and so am I, but they won’t hear of the two of them going off without a chaperone, so I have to go with them. I’m afraid I’ll find it too difficult to walk any distance, however, so they should have plenty of time alone,” she added with a twinkle.

She took a seat at the table and gave the box a curious glance. “I hope the girls are all right.”

“The girls are fine, I’m happy to say, but Catherine’s mother is . . . Well, someone murdered her.”

“Good heavens! How horrible! Do you have any idea who did it?”

“Not yet.” Sarah told her what little she knew as she served her some coffee.

“Well, I don’t suppose she’ll have many people mourning her,” Mrs. Ellsworth said.

“I know. That’s so sad. I keep reminding myself she was Catherine’s mother, though, and I try to think well of her for that.”

“And Mr. Malloy is certain this actor fellow didn’t kill her?”

“He’s fairly sure. Vaughn drinks rather heavily, I understand, so it’s possible he did it and just doesn’t remember, but Malloy thinks he wouldn’t have made up such a ridiculous story about the mysterious stranger with the drugged whiskey if it wasn’t true.”

“I can’t even imagine how horrible this must be for you, Mrs. Brandt.”

“The worst part was not knowing what to do, but my parents and I have come up with a plan we think will work.” She explained it to Mrs. Ellsworth as they finished their coffee. “I’m waiting for Mr. Malloy so I can see if he agrees or has any other suggestions to make.”

“It certainly sounds like an excellent idea, and if it works, well . . .” She glanced meaningfully at the box still sitting on the table. “Did I interrupt you in something important?”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Malloy found this box of papers in Emma Hardy’s trunk. He was going to go through them later, but he left them here, so I thought I’d see if there was anything important in there.”

“May I help?”

Sarah knew Mrs. Ellsworth must be dying of curiosity, although she doubted there would be little of interest. “I can’t imagine Emma would mind if it helps catch her killer.”

She lifted the lid and saw a collection of what appeared to be letters and bills and a few important-looking papers. She dumped them on the table. Mrs. Ellsworth pulled out two letters, and Sarah began sorting the other papers.

“This Emma didn’t seem to have many friends,” Mrs. Ellsworth said, holding up the letters. “Looks like both of these are from Anne Murphy.”

“They’re probably the replies from letters Emma sent. How did Miss Murphy know where to send them, though?”

“They’re addressed to General Delivery in Pittsburgh and”—she checked the second one—“Philadelphia.”

“I guess those were places they performed on their way back to the city. I know Philadelphia was their last stop. It would be easy enough to go to the post office and pick up her mail, I suppose. See if Miss Murphy told her anything interesting.”

“I feel guilty, reading someone else’s mail,” she said, but Sarah noticed she didn’t hesitate, pulling the first letter out of the flimsy envelope.

The rest of the papers were past due bills and contracts for Emma and Vaughn with the touring company. Sarah had given up finding anything important when she unfolded an official-looking paper and stared at it for a long moment, trying to make sense of it.

“This is interesting,” Mrs. Ellsworth said, glancing up from her letter. “Miss Murphy tells her that she took Catherine to the Mission and she’ll go get her when Emma arrives in the city.” When Sarah didn’t respond, Mrs. Ellsworth said, “What is it?”

“It’s . . . it appears to be a certificate of marriage.”

“Oh, my, did Mr. Wilbanks already marry her? But I thought that’s why she ran away, because she didn’t
want
to marry him.”

“No, she didn’t marry Mr. Wilbanks, and now I know why she ran away when he asked her. She was already married!”

“To whom? That Vaughn fellow?”

“Yes! They’d been married for . . . for over nine years!”

“Long before she met Mr. Wilbanks, I’m guessing.”

“Yes! But if she was married to Vaughn, why did she take up with Wilbanks in the first place?”

Mrs. Ellsworth grinned. “Oh, Mrs. Brandt, I’m sure you can figure that out without too much effort.”

“I suppose you’re right. Even married women can be tempted by a rich man, and Emma seemed to be more susceptible than most. What I can’t understand is why Vaughn put up with it. Did I tell you that he used to visit Emma at the house Mr. Wilbanks had provided for her?”

“Oh, my! I don’t imagine Mr. Wilbanks had any idea.”

Sarah shook her head. “What kind of a man not only allows his wife to be another man’s mistress but actually visits her in the house the other man pays for? I guess that means he must have met Catherine, too. I wonder who she thought he was. And how on earth could a man stand being confronted with his wife’s child by someone else?”

“I just hope he didn’t take it out on Catherine . . . Oh!”

“What?” Sarah asked.

“I just remembered that time Catherine got so upset when she saw whiskey in your house.”

“That’s right! I’d completely forgotten. Malloy had made me drink some . . .”

“For medicinal purposes, of course.”

“Of course,” Sarah said with a little smile at the memory. “And then Catherine was so frightened of it. I wonder if Vaughn’s drinking had anything to do with her reaction.”

“Perhaps he gets violent when he drinks.”

“No,” Sarah said, remembering. “No, that’s not it at all. Emma is the violent one.”

“What do you mean?”

“Malloy told me she hits Vaughn.”

“That’s ridiculous. How could a woman hit a man? She’d be too frightened he would hit her back.”

“Malloy tells me some wives beat their husbands the way some men beat their wives.”

“I never heard of such a thing.”

“Of course not. What man would admit to it? But if that’s true, perhaps Catherine saw Vaughn drinking and Emma hitting him. I hate to think that, though.”

“But it would certainly explain why she hates the sight of hard liquor.”

“Yes, it would. Oh, Mrs. Ellsworth, what she must have seen and heard in that house. I just pray she doesn’t remember it.”

“Children are very resilient, you know. And she’s done so well, living here with you and Maeve.”

“If only I can keep her here with me.”

“There’s no reason why she shouldn’t stay with you, especially now, with Miss Hardy dead.”

Sarah smiled ruefully. “When you say it like that, it sounds like
I
had a good reason for killing that poor woman.”

“She wasn’t a ‘poor woman,’ so don’t start feeling sorry for her. She abandoned her husband to become a rich man’s mistress and bore him a child and then kept her husband on the side while her lover supported them both. Then she abandoned her lover and her child without a word. What kind of a woman does those things?”

“She bore him a child,” Sarah whispered, having hardly heard the rest.

“What?”

“
She bore him a child
. But she was already married to Vaughn when she took up with Wilbanks. She said Wilbanks was Catherine’s father, but how would she know? How
could
she know for certain?”

“Oh, my goodness, you’re right. Maybe Mr. Wilbanks isn’t Catherine’s father at all!”

* * *

S
ARAH’S NOTE HAD SAID SHE’D BE AT HOME THIS MORNING
. Frank hadn’t wanted to come too early, and apparently, he’d timed his visit just right because Mrs. Ellsworth and her son were just leaving their house as he reached Sarah’s front stoop. From the way they were dressed, they were going someplace special. At least Mrs. Ellsworth wouldn’t be dropping in right in the middle of their conversation.

He exchanged greetings with them.

“Oh, Mr. Malloy, Mrs. Brandt has some interesting news for you,” she said. “Something we discovered in that box of papers from Miss Hardy’s room.”

“I guess I have to get up pretty early to be ahead of you, Mrs. Ellsworth,” he said in admiration.

“Oh, I was just worried about Catherine and ran over for a minute this morning to see how she was doing.”

Frank pretended to believe this and bade them good morning. Sarah opened the door before he even knocked.

“Malloy,” she said with the smile he loved. It made him forget he should be annoyed with her for making plans without him. “I was watching for you. Did Mrs. Ellsworth tell you what we discovered?”

“Oh, no, she just told me enough so I knew she’d helped.” He slipped off his coat. “I didn’t remember that box until I got home last night, and then I got your message, and I didn’t think about anything else but that.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t consult you before we made the arrangements with Wilbanks.”

She didn’t look particularly sorry, and that should have annoyed him, too. If her plan hadn’t been so good, it would have. “We’ll talk about that in a minute. What did you and Mrs. Ellsworth find?”

She took his coat and hung it up. “You won’t believe this. Remember you were wondering why Emma ran away when Wilbanks proposed to her?”

“You found out why?”

“Yes. She was already married to Vaughn.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Of course! That makes perfect sense. When did they get married?”

“Almost nine years ago.”

Dumbstruck, he followed her into the kitchen, where he found the marriage certificate lying on the table, waiting for him. He let her serve him some coffee while he considered this new information and all the ramifications. “What kind of a man lets his wife become another man’s mistress?” he finally asked.

“What kind of a woman leaves her child for a year without giving her a thought?” she replied. “They were certainly a pair. And do you know what this means?”

He had no idea. “What do
you
think it means?”

“It means Catherine might not be Wilbanks’s daughter at all.”

“That would certainly make everything a lot simpler, wouldn’t it?”

“At the very least, it raises doubt, which is one more reason for Wilbanks not to leave anything in his will to Catherine.”

Frank sighed. “Maybe you should tell me how you came up with this plan to visit Wilbanks this afternoon.”

“Of course. I hope you’re not too upset that I came up with it without you. Well,
I
didn’t come up with it. Mother did.”

“Your
mother
did?”

“Yes. You should have seen Father’s face.”

“I can imagine.”

“I don’t think you can, but at any rate, Mother thought of it, and it makes perfect sense. If the killer is a member of Wilbanks’s family who is concerned because he intends to leave part of his fortune to Catherine, then the best way to ensure her safety is to make sure Wilbanks decides not to.”

“And your father agreed to this?”

“He said he would do whatever you advised. So what do you advise?”

Frank took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about this, and as much as I hate to admit it, it’s a good idea.”

Her eyes lit up the way they always did when she was going to do something reckless. “You really think so?”

“It’s still dangerous,” he said. “One of those people may have already killed two women.”

“I know, and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill again. But even if you knew for certain that one of them killed Anne and Emma, you’d never be able to arrest them.”

She was right, of course. Rich people didn’t go to prison. Rich people didn’t even go to trial. Too many highly placed officials were willing to look the other way for the right price. “Which is the only reason I’m going to let you do this. If we can’t stop the killer, we can at least take away any reason he might have to harm Catherine. Your mother was absolutely right about that.”

She laid a hand on his arm, and he felt the warmth of it to his bones. “Thank you, Malloy.”

“Don’t thank me. I haven’t done anything yet. Now how did you think this would work?”

She straightened in her chair and withdrew her hand. He missed it already. “We thought you and I should go with Catherine. We’ll meet at my parents’ house and take her over in their carriage. We thought that would be the safest way.”

“Don’t your parents want to go along, too?”

“Of course they do, but my mother pointed out how many people would be there—Mr. Wilbanks, Ozzie, Gilda, and Lynne and Michael Hicks. Then you and I and Catherine. She’s going to be overwhelmed as it is without adding two more to the crowd.”

“And your father agreed to this?”

She shrugged. “He said he would do what you thought best.”

“He did?”

“Yes.”

That was interesting, but he’d try to figure it out later. “Then I think it’s best that he not go along. He may think he’d be a help in an emergency, but I doubt it. We also need to tell Catherine not to eat or drink anything while we’re there.”

“Oh, Malloy!” The blood drained from her face. “Do you really think . . .”

“And we shouldn’t either,” he added. “One of those people could be a killer, someone who didn’t think anything of murdering
two
women. He drugged Parnell Vaughn and strangled Emma Hardy. Do you know how long it takes to strangle someone? A long time, and you have to look right into their face while you’re doing it.”