The Family Way (Molly Murphy, #12)

“You say these sisters were supplying the Irish freedom fighters with money? Where exactly do nuns come up with surplus money? What about poverty, chastity, and obedience?”


“This particular nun in Tarrytown was rather good at making money. She sold the babies that were born to unwed girls. And when she couldn’t deliver a particular type of baby, she had her sister kidnap one from the Lower East Side. I think you’ll find the baby from that last kidnapping is with a couple who thought they were getting it from an unmarried girl.”

“You’re telling me that this nun was responsible for the kidnappings on the Lower East Side as well?” Daniel was staring at me.

“I don’t know if she was responsible for any of the other kidnappings. Maybe they just gave her the idea of an easy way to find the baby her sister particularly wanted. Her sister was a forceful woman, Daniel. Perhaps this Sister Mary Vincent was under her sister’s thumb and afraid not to carry out her orders. She seemed like a nice, gentle woman. Not the sort to go around kidnapping for money.”

“We’ll soon find out,” he said. “I’ll be around there in the morning.”

I nodded. “I suppose so.” I wondered what would happen to her—whether she’d go to prison. Whether the whole convent would be shut down. And the thought passed through my head that if only I’d minded my own business they’d have been free to carry on their good work, and Liam would still be alive. But then I reminded myself that a baby would now be safely returned to its rightful parents and that hundreds of people would not die in an explosion. So at least some good would come of it.

Daniel stood there, awfully quiet, staring past me at the window where the last rays of the setting sun streamed in, bathing our narrow hallway with a rosy glow. At last he said, “I’ve been fourteen years on the police force. I’ve learned from seasoned veterans. I’ve handled all types of criminal cases. But my wife, newly arrived from the backwoods of Ireland, manages to tie up all my unsolved cases for me with apparently no effort at all. I should just quit my job and stay home looking after the babies while you go out to work for us.”

I tried not to smile at his exasperated face. “You might like to consult me when you get a particularly tricky case in the future,” I said.

“I’d just love to know how you managed it.”

I took a deep breath thinking of the strange coincidences and underlying links that had brought me to that convent on Broome Street. Maureen O’Byrne. She had been the link. But I agreed that the whole story was a little hard to believe.

“You can just call it the luck of the Irish, Daniel. It certainly wasn’t through my brilliance in deduction. I heard a name mentioned at a tea party. I followed up on it. One thing led to another. And unfortunately they led to my brother. I led the police to my brother. I’ll never forget that or get over it.”

“Molly, did John Wilkie tell you what your brother was planning to do?”

I nodded. “He was part of a plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament. Don’t think that I condone such acts for a second. But I wanted to save him. I wanted him to get away and he refused.”

He put his hands on my shoulders. “Don’t blame yourself. Tell yourself that your act actually will save lives. Then try to put it behind you. Oh, and Molly, if another letter arrives for P. Riley Associates…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll hand it straight to you and you can find another detective agency.” I looked at his cheek, still red, and put my hand up to it tenderly. “I’m sorry I hit you.”

“So am I. You pack quite a punch, woman.”

“I don’t know what got into me.”

“I do. I pushed you too far. But you’re lucky I didn’t put you over my knee and give you a damned good hiding—with a good-sized stick. I’m allowed to by law, you know. Rule of thumb.”

“Why didn’t you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve seen enough of violence to know that it achieves nothing. There will be no hitting in this house, neither parents or children. Is that clear, Molly?”

“Yes, my lord,” I said meekly.

He laughed and wrapped me into his arms. “I knew marriage to you wouldn’t be boring.”

“I’ll try to make it a little less exciting in the future,” I said. “I really am sorry I’ve been neglecting my wifely duties too. One of the main reasons I came home was to make you a slap-up meal. I didn’t quite manage that.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to make do with what’s in the house. There isn’t much. I’ve been too busy.” Then his face lit up as an idea came to him. “We could always go out. How long has it been since we had a meal at a restaurant together?”

“Not since our honeymoon,” I said.

“Well, then, come on. Get your hat.”

“But Sid and Gus promised to take care of dinner.”

“Oh, Molly, I don’t feel like being polite to your friends tonight. I’d like a dinner for just the two of us. Can’t we sneak out and leave them a note?”