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Authors: Victoria Thompson

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BOOK: Murder on St. Nicholas Avenue
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“A package, you say?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yes, it had been wrapped with brown paper and tied with string, like someone had sent it to him, except it didn't look like it had been mailed or anything.”

“That's odd,” Felix said. “When he was here yesterday, he said he needed to get into Pollock's house to get the contracts.”

“But you thought he was lying about that,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“Yes, and now it looks like I was right. He must have had them all along.”

“Or maybe he did break into Mr. Pollock's house and took them then,” she said.

“He couldn't have, because they weren't there,” Maeve said. “Remember, I searched the office the day before the break-in, and I didn't see anything like that.”

“And he wouldn't have wrapped it up like that if he was stealing it,” Gino said. “Now that I think of it, the elevator operator told me the only visitor Truett got was a colored boy who delivered things to him. I thought he must have meant Eddie.”

“So maybe Eddie delivered the package with the contracts,” Maeve said, “but that would've been before Pollock died, so I can't see how it would matter.”

“Neither can I,” Gino said. “Except that I asked Pollock's servants if they knew where Truett lived, and Eddie never said a word.”

“I'm sure he was just frightened, poor boy,” Elizabeth said, remembering the young man and how upset he had been that first day. “I understand the police can be quite intimidating to the servant class.”

“Not as intimidating as they'd like to be,” Gino said, remembering how often people had refused to help him in investigations.

Then the maid came in and cleared away the oysters. Next she served chicken croquettes and baked potatoes with some lovely peas. The cook had done well.

When they were alone again, Maeve said, “Do we still think Truett killed Pollock?”

“I don't,” Gino said. “They were killed in almost exactly the same way, so it was probably the same person who killed both men.”

“Was Mr. Truett beaten with an Egyptian statue?” Elizabeth asked.

“No, a lamp,” Gino said.

“Which is hardly a topic for polite conversation with ladies, particularly at the table,” Felix reminded them.

“So if Truett didn't kill Pollock, who killed both of them?” Maeve said.

“We think it's someone who was trying to get the money back,” Gino said.

“Who is this ‘we'?” Elizabeth asked, looking at Felix, who smiled smugly back.

“Gino and I. I had an interesting conversation with that
Zimmerman fellow this morning. He already knew that Pollock was dead.”

“That's not surprising. It's been in the newspapers. It's all over them now, in fact,” Elizabeth said.

“He knew it before that, though. He says someone told him, but he won't say who it was.”

“Mr. Decker and I think this person must be the killer, if he even exists,” Gino said, “and if Zimmerman made him up, then Zimmerman himself is the killer.”

“But why would he want to kill these men?” Maeve asked.

“Oh, because he found out the Panama scheme was a swindle,” Felix said. “I forgot to mention that part. Apparently, poor Norwalk is the one who discovered the fraud. He'd been introducing people to Pollock and recommending the project.”

“Oh dear, and when he found out they were being cheated, he killed himself,” Elizabeth said.

“After warning Zimmerman and maybe some of the others as well,” Felix said.

“So it could have been Zimmerman or one of the others who killed Pollock,” Gino said. “Remember, the servants said Pollock was arguing with somebody. They thought he was just yelling at his wife, as usual, but it could have been someone else.”

“And it could certainly have been Mr. Yorke,” Maeve reminded them.

“So,” Elizabeth said with a smile, “all we have to do is find out who Mr. Pollock was arguing with.”

11

“I
feel so sorry for Gino,” Elizabeth said as their carriage took them to the Norwalk house.

Felix smiled and patted her hand. He loved how softhearted she was, but he didn't want her to waste her sympathy. “Don't be sorry. He never really wanted to go back to the police department when he got back from Cuba anyway.”

“He didn't? Then why did he?”

“He needed a job and Frank Malloy was leaving the country for several months, so going back to the police was the easy thing to do.”

“And you think he was just waiting for Frank and Sarah to come back from their honeymoon?”

“I think he expects Frank will open his own detective agency when he gets home.”

Elizabeth smiled at that. “Maeve is sure of it. According to her, we're already part of it.”

“We? You mean you and I?”

“You and I and Maeve and Gino.”

“But that's . . .” He'd intended to say
ridiculous
, but plainly it wasn't ridiculous because here they were, going to visit the widow of a man who was connected to the murder they were investigating.

“That's what, dear?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“I guess that's
correct
. Although it won't be a recurring situation, of course.”

“Of course.”

He didn't like the way she'd immediately agreed. That meant she was humoring him. She should have argued instead, but he knew there was nothing to argue about. She'd been helping Frank and Sarah with investigations for years. She thought he didn't know, but he'd always known. He should have forbidden her to participate in such potentially dangerous situations, but forbidding Elizabeth to do something would only ensure that she would do it.

Felix decided not to discuss Frank Malloy's detective agency anymore. “How are we going to find out who Norwalk told about the Panama scheme? I doubt that Caroline knows anything about his business interests.”

“You might be surprised. Most women know what's going on, even if their husbands don't discuss it with them. And I'm sure Oscar was troubled when he found out the investment scheme was a fraud. She would have been concerned and probably would have tried to find out what was bothering him. Even if Oscar didn't tell her anything, she may have spoken to her attorney by now about the estate, so she may know about the missing money, especially if it means she's penniless.”

“Let's hope that's not the case, but at least we can tell her she'll receive a portion of the money back.”

“People hate talking about money,” Elizabeth reminded him.

“Only if they have it.”

The mourning wreath still hung on the front door, and the maid informed them that the mistress wasn't receiving visitors.

“Would you take her my card and tell her we need to speak with her about something very important?” Elizabeth asked.

To Felix's surprise, the girl did as she asked, allowing them to wait inside while she delivered the message.

“How do you do that?” he asked.

“Do what?”

“Get people to do whatever you want.”

She smiled sweetly. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Felix knew better than to argue, so they waited in silence until the maid returned and escorted them upstairs to the formal parlor, where Caroline Norwalk awaited them.

*   *   *

“W
hat are your parents going to say when they find out you quit your job?” Maeve asked Gino as they waited in the family parlor for the Deckers' carriage to return and take them and the children back home.

Gino nearly smiled at the knowledge that Maeve was concerned about him. “Ma'll be worried, because she worries about everything, but they'll both be glad because they never liked me working there in the first place.”

“They didn't? Why not?”

“Because in Italy, the police . . . Well, I guess not just the police, but the whole government is crooked. Nobody trusts them, and for good reason.”

“That's true here, too.”

“Yeah, but it's not as bad. Not everybody is out for themselves. Mr. Malloy, for one, and Colonel Roosevelt for another.”

“He's Governor Roosevelt now,” she said with a grin.

“He's not the governor yet,” he said, remembering Kilroy.

“Just a few more weeks.”

Yes, things were changing in New York, but how much they'd change, no one knew. “When are the Malloys coming home?”

“By Christmas, for sure. I guess it depends on what ship they get and the weather, of course. They'll send us a cable to let us know.”

“Soon, though.”

“Yes, soon.” She studied him for a long moment. “So you
are
worried about not having a job.”

He grinned, unwilling to admit such a thing. “I'm just having so much fun being a private investigator that I don't want to give it up.”

She gave a humph of disbelief.

“Aren't you having fun?” he asked.

“Of course, but when the Malloys get back, I'll just be a nursemaid again.”

“Oh.” He hadn't thought about that.

“Yes. Oh.”

“Maybe when they find out how good you are, they'll hire somebody else to take care of Catherine.”

“That's just it. I don't want anybody else to take care of Catherine.”

Now that
was
a problem. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

The maid came to tell them that the carriage had returned, and then another maid brought Brian and Catherine down, so they had no other opportunity to talk, but Gino now realized that there were worse problems than not having a job.

*   *   *

“I
'm surprised she agreed to see us,” Felix whispered as the maid led them up the staircase.

Elizabeth smiled. “She's probably bored senseless by now. You can only cry so much.”

Caroline Norwalk had aged ten years since the funeral, Elizabeth noted. At that time, she'd merely been in shock, stunned by the suddenness of her loss and numbed by her mind's unwillingness to accept it. By now, however, she'd faced her reality and felt the real pain of the blow life had dealt her.

“Elizabeth, Felix, what a surprise. How good of you to come,” Caroline said, holding out her hands in welcome.

Elizabeth took both of them in hers and kissed her cheek. “How are you faring?”

Caroline smiled sadly. “I hardly know. I still don't think I have my feet under me properly yet.”

Elizabeth stepped aside while Felix greeted her, and then they sat down by the hearth, which had been converted to gas. The fire had obviously just been lit and had not begun to touch the chill in the room.

“I've sent for some tea. You must be frozen,” Caroline said, her ingrained good manners compelling her to consider the comfort of her guests first.

“You're probably wondering why we've intruded on your grief,” Felix said.

She was too well mannered to agree, of course. “I'm always glad to see you both.”

“Please know that we're sorry to have to bother you at this time,” Elizabeth hastily explained, “but we've come across information that might provide you with some relief.”

“Unless you're going to tell me Oscar isn't really dead, I
can't imagine what you could say that would give me relief,” she said with the most heartbreaking sadness.

Elizabeth blinked at the sting of tears. “Oh, my dear friend, I wish we could.”

“Caroline,” Felix said, commanding her attention and staving off a collapse into tears by the firmness of his voice. “I'm afraid I have become aware of the unfortunate circumstances of Oscar's death.” She gasped, but he hurried on before she could succumb to her grief again. “It isn't common knowledge, I'm glad to say, and the only reason I would mention it to you is because Oscar's name came up in another matter. You see, we have been assisting a young woman whose husband was murdered.”

Elizabeth was relieved to see this information intrigued Caroline enough to make her forget her own problems for a moment. “Murdered?”

“Yes,” he said. “Do you by any chance know a man named Randolph Pollock?”

“Pollock? I don't think so. Should I?”

“Probably not, but Oscar knew him. In fact, he invested some money with him.”

Her eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Dear heavens, is he the one . . . ?”

“The one who cheated Oscar? Yes, he was.”

“Was? Does that mean . . . ? You said
murdered
.” Color had bloomed in Caroline's pale cheeks.

“Someone murdered Randolph Pollock a few days ago,” Felix said baldly, but he did not need to spare Caroline's feelings. This was exactly what she wanted to hear.

She closed her eyes, as if she wanted to absorb the full implications of this in private. Elizabeth reached over and squeezed Felix's hand.

After what seemed a long time, Caroline opened her eyes
again. “Thank you for telling me this. It won't bring Oscar back, of course, and I would never wish that anyone be murdered, but . . .” Her voice broke, and she pulled a black-bordered handkerchief from her sleeve and pressed it to her lips.

“There's more,” Elizabeth said when Caroline had regained her composure a bit. “A little good news, I think.”

“What could possibly be good about any of this?” she asked.

“I understand that Oscar had invested five thousand dollars in Pollock's scheme,” Felix said, not stopping when Caroline winced. “I believe we will be able to return most of it to you.”

Now they had her full attention. “Return? How is that possible? Oscar went to see this man when he found out it was all a fraud. I didn't know his name, but Oscar told me he'd confronted him and demanded his investment be returned. He felt so awful because he'd convinced others to participate as well. But this Pollock person laughed at him.
Laughed
at him! Can you imagine how humiliated Oscar was? And he had to tell his friends the truth, how he'd been swindled and had led them like lambs to be slaughtered as well. That's what he said,
slaughtered
. I've never seen him so distraught.”

“I'm sure Pollock had no intention of returning any of the money,” Felix said, “but we have located what's left of it. He'd spent some, but we recovered most of it, and we'll see that the investors each receive their fair share.”

Caroline simply stared at them. Elizabeth had begun to worry for her sanity when a single tear rolled down her face. “You have no idea what this means to me,” she said at last. “How can I ever thank you?”

“That's not necessary,” Elizabeth said. “We're just glad that we can do this small thing.”

“It's no small thing, Elizabeth,” Caroline said fiercely. “Oscar had made a bad decision that cost us a lot of money,
but he could have lived with that. He could not bear the shame of having misled his friends, though. One had lost the bulk of his mother's savings.”

“Young Zimmerman,” Felix guessed.

“How did you know?” she asked in amazement.

“I've spoken to him. Do you know who else was involved? Who else he told about the fraud?”

“He only mentioned Lawrence's name to me. Because the money was his mother's, I think. I knew there were others, but not who.”

“Show her the list, Felix,” Elizabeth said.

“Oh, of course.” He pulled it out of his pocket and offered it to her. “Do you recognize any of these names?”

“Are these the men who were cheated?” she asked as she looked at the list.

“Yes.”

“I recognize Lawrence, of course. And Paul Reed, although I don't think Oscar mentioned his name to me. But not the other names. Are they all Oscar's friends?”

“Probably not all of them,” Felix said, taking the list back. “I'm sure Pollock had others he lured into his scheme.”

Caroline shivered. “What a horrible man. I wouldn't wish death on anyone, but I can't say I'm sorry to hear of his. Did you say he was married?”

“Yes, which is why Felix and I are involved,” Elizabeth said. “His wife has been accused of his murder, and her mother asked us to help prove her innocence. When we started looking into his business dealings, we discovered what he had done, and that led us here. I'm so very sorry, Caroline.”

“And I'm sorry for this poor woman. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Elizabeth and Felix exchanged a glance. Obviously, he couldn't think of anything either.

“Just let us know if you think of anything you feel would be helpful,” she said.

“Or if anyone contacts you about Pollock's project,” Felix said.

“Why would they do that?” she asked in alarm.

“They probably wouldn't, but we don't think all of the investors know about the fraud yet,” he said. “We know Oscar told Lawrence and perhaps Reed as well, but we don't know about the others. So if anyone asks about it, just send them to me.”

“Thank you for taking care of this, Felix,” Caroline said. “You have saved me.”

“You give me too much credit, Caroline,” he said gently.

“Oh no, not at all! You couldn't possibly understand. I spoke with an attorney the other day. He explained to me that there's hardly any money left. Oscar's business dealings had been disastrous recently, and with the loss to Pollock . . . Well, I'm going to have to sell the house and everything in it and move in with one of my daughters. I would have gone to them with practically nothing, as a charity case, but with the money you've found, I can have a small income of my own. I don't know how to thank you, Felix.”

She was crying again, and this time Elizabeth got up to comfort her while Felix looked on helplessly. He was, Elizabeth realized, not used to being considered a hero.

*   *   *

BOOK: Murder on St. Nicholas Avenue
3.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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