Hush Now, Don't You Cry(104)

“That’s a lot to swallow,” I said.

“No, I think it’s quite logical,” Sid said. “And somebody killed him because they found out the truth and now knew he was really to blame. And then we thought what if they all decided to punish him for his negligence, so they lured him here. Do we actually know that he invited them and not the other way around?”

“No, I don’t think we do,” I said. “The excuse was a yacht race that Archie Van Horn was competing in, but I don’t think we ever knew who invited whom.” As I said it I remembered Archie’s bad behavior when he had called upon the alderman and made a note that it was his yacht race that had lured them all here. Maybe there was something to what Sid was postulating.

“There you are then,” Sid said. “The death of Brian Hannan was a joint affair, a family plot. They’ll keep it a closed family secret.”

“Do you still believe that, now that Mrs. McCreedy has been killed and all evidence points to Kathleen?”

“I’m not sure,” Sid said. “I can’t help feeling that an important point is missing. I can believe that Kathleen killed Mrs. McCreedy. I could believe that Kathleen pushed her grandfather off a cliff. But what twelve-year-old child of simple intelligence, who has been locked away all her life, would know how to put poison in his whiskey glass? That is the crime of a sophisticated person and one who knew Hannan’s habits.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” I agreed.

“So what do you think this list of place-names might have to do with anything?” Sid asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s nothing of importance, but they were there on his blotter and must have been written in the last days before he came here. They were the only words, apart from his signature, that I could make out. So they had to have some importance.”

“I’ll head back to New York then, and see what I can dig up,” Sid said with her usual confidence. “Then maybe we’ll be wiser. What do you suspect these place-names will tell you?”

“I’ve no idea,” I said. “We may be chasing straws, but Kathleen has nobody else on her side but us. We owe it to her to find the truth if we can.”

“Yes we do,” Sid agreed. She hugged me. “I’ll be off then. I’ll telephone you as soon as I find something.”

Then she went back into the house, leaving me alone with the sound of the surf and the cry of the gulls.





Thirty-six

Daniel seemed quite animated after Chief Prescott’s visit.

“It seems I’ve been missing out on a lot,” he said. “And I owe you an apology, Molly.”

“You do?”

“I didn’t believe that you’d seen a face at the turret window and it turns out that the girl was up there all the time.” He shook his head. “What a foolhardy thing to do—to keep an unstable child in such close proximity to her family all this time. Brian Hannan always appeared to me as such a sensible man, but he paid for this mistake with his life.”

I almost said, “If the girl did it,” but I swallowed back the words. No sense in sharing my doubts with Daniel at the moment. It would only mean I’d have to confess to doing my share of investigating and I didn’t want to upset him.

“I wonder if I’ll feel strong enough to get up and take a look at that tower for myself tomorrow,” he said. “I’d be most interested to see the child and the trapdoor.”

“You’re not to get up until the doctor says you can,” I reminded him.

“That old quack? What does he know about anything? I’ll get up when I feel like it, in fact I’m going to try walking a little now. Give me your hand, Molly.”

“Are you sure?” I held out my hand tentatively. Daniel swung his legs over the side of the bed, then pulled himself to his feet. “There, you see?” he said. He took a few steps across the room. “I’m doing splendidly. Back to normal in no time.” Then he swayed. “Whoops. Feeling a little dizzy. Room swinging around.” As I went to steady him, he went limp and collapsed to the floor.

“Daniel!” I shrieked and dropped beside him. My scream brought Mrs. Sullivan running.

“Oh, dear sweet Jesus, you’ve killed him!” she exclaimed, pushing me out of the way to reach him.

I felt a pulse. “No, he just fainted,” I said. “Help me get him back to bed.”

Together we lugged him with some difficulty. As we were finishing the operation he opened his eyes.

“What’s going on?” he murmured.

“You fainted,” I said. “Now I hope you realize that you’re not well enough to get up yet. You scared the living daylights out of your mother and me.”