Hush Now, Don't You Cry(105)

“That’s interesting,” he said. “I don’t remember fainting before.”

“And I don’t want you to do so again.” I tucked bedclothes around him angrily. “You nearly died, Daniel. You have to take things slowly. First you sit in a chair for a while, then you try walking.”

“But if I don’t hurry up, I’ll have no chance to be a part of this investigation.” He sounded like a petulant child.

“Dang the investigation,” Mrs. Sullivan said. “You’re just like your father. He could never stop acting the detective, and look where it got him. Dead before he was sixty.”

“You can’t blame me for feeling frustrated,” he said. “I’m not used to lying still and being waited on while the local police need my help.”

“I’ll keep an eye on things for you,” I said.

This brought a chuckle, and a warning look. “I bet you’d love an excuse to get involved, but you’re not going to. You stay well out of it, do you hear? Old Hannan knew there was something wrong, didn’t he? And look what happened to him.”

I thought it wiser not to mention that Sid was on her way to New York, investigating on my behalf, and certainly not that I’d been up in that tower and seen the child for myself.

“I’ll see to your dinner, son,” Mrs. Sullivan said, patting his cheek. “How about my chicken and dumplings? You need to get your strength back.”

“And I should go and see how my friend Gus is doing,” I said. “Sid had to go back to New York in a hurry, so Gus may want to come and eat dinner with us.”

I put on my cloak and went out. The night wind had turned cold, reminding me that this was indeed October. I needed to walk and to think. If Sid’s research tomorrow turned up nothing, then what did I do next? I couldn’t confess to Daniel that I had unearthed shady business practices at Hannan Construction, that I had found the identity of the man at the gate, or even the Tammany threats. Even if he were well enough to listen, I rather felt that they were meaningless. Maybe Sid and Gus’s theory about the family luring Brian Hannan to his death was not so outlandish after all. I wondered if that lawyer was already on his way back to New York. I would have dearly loved to know if Brian Hannan had been about to make any changes to his will.

I paused, listening to the sound of the wind in the pine trees and the underlying thump of the waves below. Why did one or more of them want him dead? Need him dead so badly that they were willing to take a terrible risk? And how could it tie in with Colleen’s death? It seemed to be now that there had to be some connection. The moment that Kathleen’s presence was revealed, someone had found it necessary to kill Mrs. McCreedy. Either that, or Kathleen really had killed her caregiver for betraying her presence.

I had to see Kathleen again, and I had a good excuse. I went to the policeman at the front door.

“I take it that Miss Walcott is still up with the girl in the tower?” I said. “Has anybody taken dinner up to them yet?”

“I wouldn’t know about that, ma’am,” the young constable said.

“I’d be happy to take them some food, if you’d allow me into the kitchen.”

He looked at me, weighing whether my motives were pure, no doubt.

“I am a guest here,” I reminded him. “Alderman Hannan invited me. I should be able to go in and out of the house as I choose.”

“That was before two murders,” he said. “Chief Prescott says nobody comes in and out and we’ve got to keep an eye on the family at all times. We even have a constable keeping an eye on their bedrooms at night.”

“Then I’d be saving you extra work if I took food up to my friend and the little girl, wouldn’t I?” I said.

“Why are you so keen to get up there? Morbid curiosity to see a child murderer, is it?”

“Certainly not.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he said. “You should see the way the people mill around when we’ve a murderer in the jail. Just to catch a glimpse of him.”

“I assure you it’s not morbid curiosity. It’s purely concern for my friend up with the child, that she is not forgotten at mealtimes. She’s been up there alone long enough.”

“One of our men is with her,” he said. “But I do see your point. Very well, then. You can take them up food, but I’m having you escorted straight down again.”

He called another constable to guard the door for him, then led me back to the kitchen, where the chef gave me two plates of food, a glass of milk for the child, and one of water for Gus. The constable gallantly offered to carry it for me and told me to follow him. Then to my surprise he opened the door across from the kitchen. It was the same door where I had so startled Mrs. McCreedy and I realized now that she had just come down from Kathleen’s room. Down a long dark passage we went, then up a long, equally dark stair.