Death of Riley (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #2)

I joined her at the window. It was the man in the brown suit.

“He was there yesterday,” I said. “Standing in the same place.”

“I don't like the sound of it,” Miss Van Woekem said. “Probably a burglar, deciding which house to break into.”

“He's taking an awfully long time to decide,” I said. “If he's been standing there all morning and yesterday too.”

“He's watching our movements and seeing when a house might be unoccupied. Go and find a constable and bring him here.”

I did as she asked and returned with a large red-faced constable I had found on the corner of Fourth Avenue and Twenty-first Street.

“A strange man in the gardens, you say, miss?” he asked, slapping his nightstick against his palm to show he was ready for action. “We'll soon take care of him. What exactly was he doing? Making a nuisance of himself?”

“No, just standing there and staring up at one of the houses.”

We came into Gramercy Park. “Where exactly was he when you saw him last?” the constable asked in a low voice. I pointed out the southwest corner. He nodded. “We'll stroll by on the other side, casual-like, so that he thinks we haven't noticed him. Then I'll slip into the park and nab him.”

“There he is,” I whispered. “See, under that big tree.”

He gave a quick look, then looked again. “Why, he's nothing to worry about, miss. That's old Paddy. I know him well. Wouldn't harm a fly. I expect he's doing a spot of bird-watching. That's what he'd be doing.”

I reported this to Miss Van Woekem. “Bird-watching?” she exclaimed. “I wasn't aware that any birds nested on the second floor of houses. Still, if the police think he's harmless … upon their heads be it if there is a break-in.”

While she took her nap that afternoon I looked out of the window again. Just what was he doing there? Then I saw the glint of something flashing in the sunlight. Field glasses! The man was using field glasses to watch the house. Then, of course, it hit me. He wasn't a burglar at all. He was some kind of investigator. And the constable must have known what he was doing. He may even have been working with the police …

My mind went back to our encounter with him on Sunday afternoon. Daniel's relaxed smile when I told him the man had tried to pick his pocket and then his change of expression when he put his hand into that pocket. How could I have been so blind? The man hadn't tried to take anything from Daniel's pocket. He had put something into it.

I felt a rush of excitement. I had talked to Daniel about setting myself up as an investigator, but I had no idea how to go about it. When I had tried to solve a real crime, I had stumbled over clues by good or bad luck, more than through my own skill. Now here, before my eyes, was the real thing. As soon as I got off work I would go and see Daniel at police headquarters. I'd make him tell me everything he knew about the man in the brown suit. If the man was, indeed, working with the police, and not a gangster, then I'd go and ask him to take me on as an apprentice.

I waited impatiently for the end of the day.

“Stop fidgeting, girl. You're acting as if you're sitting on an anthill,” Miss Van Woekem chided. “What is the matter with you?”

“Nothing. I suppose I'm not used to being cooped up in a room all day. I was brought up in the fresh air. Would you like me to take you for a stroll around the park again?”

“No, thank you. I won't have time for that today. In fact, I am meeting my goddaughter at the theater. She insists that I see a new play with her. I know it will be dreadful. It's by a dull young European, and their plays are always middle-class melodramas. As if the middle class could be anything but boring. But I have to humor the child when she comes to town. I don't see her often enough.” She gazed out of the window. “You can leave early and go and select yourself some fabric for a dress. Nothing fancy, you understand. A plain, dignified single color—beige or gray would be suitable. Here is the money.” She fished into her mesh purse and handed me two dollars. “Bring the fabric tomorrow and I will arrange for my dressmaker to measure you.”

I took the money, thinking that I might not be shopping for fabric at all. If I could worm the old man's name and address out of Daniel, then Miss Van Woekem would be looking for a new companion to bully. I set off, my heart racing with anticipation.