Murder on St. Mark's Place (30 page)

“Here, let’s find a bench,” Dirk said, taking her arm and leading her over to where two old men were sitting, feeding crumbs to the pigeons. “Excuse me,” he said to them. “The lady is feeling faint. Do you mind?”

They jumped up and scurried away, allowing Sarah to sit down just before her knees gave out completely. She felt like a complete fool.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked solicitously.

Now she felt guilty. The man she’d just accused of murdering half a dozen young women was concerned about her welfare. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. I just ... Oh, Dirk, I’m so sorry. How could I have ever believed ... ?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, looking hurt. “How could you?”

“Everything seemed to suggest ... And then Lisle was killed, right after I told you about her.”

“Lisle?”

“She was the one I said was most likely to have had a beau that Gerda would want to steal. She was murdered just a few days later.”

“Good God, how awful.”

“And Malloy found a photograph of you and Lisle that had been taken here at the park. She’d written the name Will on the back of it.”

“So Malloy’s the one who convinced you I’m a killer,” he said, thinking he understood everything.

Had he? Sarah couldn’t really remember. She’d thought it had been her own conclusion, but now she wasn’t sure. And Malloy hated Dirk. That much was certain. He’d wanted Dirk to be the killer. Had his prejudice colored his judgment? Had she let it color her own? She didn’t know. All she knew was that Dirk was innocent. Well, perhaps not innocent. His conduct had been too degenerate for that. but at least he wasn’t guilty of murder.

“Is that why you brought me here, to get me to confess to you?” he asked. He seemed to be amused again.

“It does sound silly, when you say it out like that, doesn’t it? Even if you were the killer, that hardly seems likely to happen. I’m terribly sorry, Dirk. Can you ever forgive me?”

“I’m not sure,” he said with amazing good nature. “But I will allow you to grovel a bit to get back in my good graces before I decide.”

“You’re very generous,” she allowed.

He shook his head in wonder as he considered the situation. “I can’t believe you came here alone with me if you believed I’d murdered those girls.”

Sarah had an urge to look around for Malloy, but she resisted. She didn’t want to alarm Malloy, and she didn’t want Dirk to know the extent of their folly. It was enough that she was embarrassed. No use embarrassing Malloy, too.

“We’re hardly alone, Dirk,” she pointed out, glancing meaningfully at the throngs of people passing by. “All the murders were committed in the city, in the dark of night.”

“And Malloy agreed to this idiotic plan?” he asked incredulously.

“I ... I didn’t tell him,” she lied. No use making Malloy look as foolish as she did.

“Oh, Sarah, I thought you were such a sensible woman. When I think of what could have happened if you’d confronted the real killer this way...”

“I know.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “I suppose I’m not cut out to be a detective. I should leave that to the police.”

Dirk made a rude noise, reminding her of how infrequently the police did any detecting of their own. She ignored him, choosing instead to begin making up for her ugly suspicions.

“I suppose you’ll want to go back to the city now.”

“Why?” He seemed genuinely surprised at the suggestion.

“Because I can’t imagine you want to spend any more time with me after the way I treated you.”

He shook his head again. “Sarah, you may find this hard to believe, but I’m actually sort of flattered.”

“Flattered?”
She couldn’t believe it.

“Do you know, I believe this is the most interesting thing that has ever happened to me? I shall have the most fascinating story to tell at my club, about how I was suspected of murder! It’s too delicious.”

Sarah could hardly believe anyone would be bragging about such a thing to his friends, but Dirk seemed actually delighted.

“And we most certainly will not return to the city, at least not yet,” he went on, his face alight with excitement. “First we will enjoy the amusements to be found here, we will eat a delicious dinner, and then we will dance under the stars. I want to remember this day forever.”

Sarah didn’t want to remember it at all, but she couldn’t be rude, certainly not after the way she’d treated Dirk. If he wanted to spend the day here, she’d do her best to help him enjoy himself. She knew a pang of guilt over knowing Malloy would be traipsing around after them all day, but perhaps she could slip away at some point and tell him what had happened so he could go home. She pasted a smile on her face and said, “What would you like to do first?”

“Let’s ride on the Ferris wheel.”

Sarah found this the most pleasant of all the rides at the park, so she readily agreed. The line was long, but it moved quickly since the wheel was large and held many cars. Dirk was in boisterous good humor, almost unnaturally so. She tried to match his enthusiasm, but her heart wasn’t in it. She didn’t really like him, after all. Even if he wasn’t a killer, he’d taken terrible advantage of many young women to satisfy his own lusts, and she could never overlook such a damning character flaw. When this day was over, she would make a point of never encountering him again.

When they reached the head of the line, Dirk stepped over to the ride operator and spoke quietly to him, slipping something into the fellow’s shirt pocket.

“What did you say to him?” she asked when he returned.

“I asked him to give us an extra-long ride. And to make sure we stop on the very top. The view is breathtaking.” He smiled, eager for her approval, and she gladly gave it. She couldn’t fault him for trying to make sure she had the best time possible, could she?

At last it was their turn. Dirk helped her into the car, then took his place beside her. The attendant fastened the gate across the front and then stepped back as their car swung up a notch to allow the people on the next car to exit and new ones take their place.

Soon they were halfway up, stopped momentarily for another car to load, when Dirk began to rock the car back and forth.

“What are you doing?” she cried in alarm, grabbing onto the gate for support.

“Are you frightened, Sarah?” he asked without a trace of concern. “Don’t worry, the car won’t tip over.” He lurched forward, leaning over the gate, so that the car tipped so far forward, Sarah could imagine them both tumbling out to their deaths.

“Dirk, stop it!” she cried, bracing her feet and clutching the back of the seat with one hand while still clinging to the gate with the other.

The wheel lurched into motion again. carrying them up another notch. When they stopped, the car swayed, and Dirk made it rock dangerously again.

Sarah saw his expression, and then she understood. He was frightening her on purpose, punishing her for her suspicions. “This is childish, Dirk. I told you I was sorry.”

“You’re going to be even sorrier, Sarah,” he assured her. “You know, you weren’t far wrong when you suspected me of murder.”

“You heard me. I
am
a murderer, Sarah.” He smiled, and the coldness in his eyes chilled her to her bones.

“What do you mean?” She was glad to hear her voice sounded almost normal.

“Just what I said. It happened by accident the first time. I didn’t mean to kill the miserable little wench. She was just another one of those whores. You wouldn’t believe how cheaply they sell themselves. Sarah. A string of glass beads or a pair of gloves, and they’ll lift their skirts practically on a street corner.”

The wheel lurched again, and they rose another notch. At least Dirk had forgotten about rocking the car. He was too engrossed in his story.

“They’re disgusting, Sarah. They whimper and moan and pretend they enjoy it while you’re pressing them against a wall in a filthy alley. Even while I was using them, I hated them. I despised them. Each time the urge to punish them somehow got stronger and stronger, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I’d just finished with her, and she was simpering, pretending it had been so lovely when it was cheap and dirty and disgusting, so I hit her. I used an open palm the first time. A gentleman would never strike a woman with his fist, you know. You should have seen the look on her face. She was so surprised that I hit her again. She ran away, but I’ll never forget that feeling of triumph.”

Sarah could only stare. She seemed paralyzed with her horror. It was just as she’d imagined when she and Malloy had been trying to figure out what had happened. She felt no satisfaction, though. How could she take pride in having guessed such an awful truth?

“After that, I hit all of them. Each time I hurt them worse. I was trying to experience that surge of power I’d felt the first time, but it became more difficult each time. I had to hit them harder and more often. I had to beat them until they begged for mercy, and finally I hit one of them until she stopped begging at all. I didn’t know she was dead at the time. I just thought she was senseless. Then I saw something about her in one of the newspapers a few days later. They’d found her body.”

“Dirk, if you’re just trying to frighten me—”

“I think I’m doing more than trying, aren’t I?” he asked confidently. “It’s nice to see you at a disadvantage for once, Sarah. I knew I could manage that, given the appropriate opportunity.”

She’d been trying to convince herself he was making it all up just to terrify her. How could anyone speak of these horrors so matter-of-factly? But now she understood. He’d really committed these murders, and for some reason he wanted her to know all about it. “So after that first time,” she guessed, “you killed the next girl on purpose.”

“Of course I did. How could I do less? There was no going back after that, Sarah. And nothing else would appease me. I can’t describe to you the pleasure of feeling their flesh and bones breaking beneath my fists. There’s nothing else like it.”

His eyes shone with a light that she might, under other circumstances, have described as divine. Indeed, he looked transported.

She cringed away from him as far as the confines of the car would allow, which wasn’t far. She tried to reason, tried to find an escape from the truth.

“But you told me about Tim Vandervort and the party!” she remembered. “You couldn’t have killed Gerda.”

“Don’t you understand?” he asked with a sneer. “That’s the irony here. You started out looking for the man who killed this Gerda and then found out about the other girls who’d been killed. I killed the other girls, but I didn’t kill this Gerda. I might have. I was considering it. She would probably have been next, but someone else beat me to it.”

The car lurched again, and they rose higher into the summer sky.

“And what about Lisle? You couldn’t have killed her either.” At least her conscience would be spared this agony.

“Oh, but I could. And I did. I had to, you see. She was one of my failures. That happened sometimes. I could usually judge which ones would put up a fight, but Lisle surprised me. She looked so fragile, I never expected—”

“But why go back and kill her later if you didn’t kill Gerda?” Sarah cried, horror choking her.

“Because she might have remembered what happened between us and made the connection with the other murders. I had an alibi for Gerda’s death, but not for the others. If your detective had suspected me, I would have had to answer some difficult questions. Ordinarily, I’d think a decent-sized bribe would get me out of trouble with the police, but I don’t think I can offer the one thing that might appease this Malloy. His lust for you makes him very dangerous indeed.”

“Dirk, you shouldn’t have told me all this.”

“Why not, Sarah?” he asked, as if he really didn’t know.

“Because I have no choice but to tell Detective Sergeant Malloy. Surely, you must know that. I can’t allow you to kill anyone else.”

He waited until the car had moved again, bringing them to a stop at the very top of the wheel. “Don’t worry, Sarah. You won’t have to tell Mr. Malloy anything, because you’re going to have a terrible accident, and you won’t be able to tell anyone anything ever again.”

S
ARAH LOOKED DOWN FROM HER PERCH AT the top of the Ferris wheel. The view indeed was breathtaking. She couldn’t seem to breathe at all. Somewhere below, Malloy would be watching, but even if she could signal him somehow, there was nothing he could do to help her. She must save herself.

“Dirk,” she tried, amazed that she could speak at all. “You don’t have to hurt me. Surely you know that wealthy people don’t go to prison. Your father will hire the best attorneys for you. No jury will ever believe a man like you could be capable of committing murder.” The words almost gagged her, but unfortunately, she also knew they could well be true. Justice might be blind, but she wasn’t above accepting a bribe.

“But I’d have to stop killing women, Sarah,” he pointed out, his voice so calm and reasonable, it turned her blood to ice. “And I’d be a social outcast. No one would see me. What kind of life would I have?”

“What kind of life will you have if you kill me in front of thousands of people?” she argued.

“I’m not going to kill you, Sarah,” he said, giving the gate she still clutched a sharp tug that pulled it loose from the latch that held it closed. “I told you, you’re going to have a tragic accident.”

“No!” she cried, fighting him for control of the gate. But before she could stop him, he’d flung it out straight, far beyond her reach, and they sat there, a hundred feet above the park, with nothing but air between them and the ground.

“You’re terribly distraught, Sarah,” he told her, his voice so calm he might have been discussing the weather. “You are desperate to remarry, but I told you that you must stop pursuing me. I have no interest in you, and you’re making a fool of yourself. I have no intention of marrying you, and the news caused you to fling yourself off the Ferris wheel to your death.”