Hush Now, Don't You Cry(43)

Why indeed? I thought. That same reasoning would apply to all the family members. They all benefited from his beneficence and if he’d left his fortune to his only daughter, then the rest of them would be worse off now than they had been.

Terrence reached into his pocket and took out a cigarette case and a lighter. “Do you mind if I smoke? Irene makes a frightful fuss if I do it in the house. I don’t suppose you’d like one yourself, would you?”

“Uh, no thank you,” I said. “And I really should be getting back to my husband. He’s not well, so I should be keeping an eye on him.”

“Not another victim of poisoning?” Terrence asked.

“No, just a normal chill,” I replied. “At least I think it’s a little worse than a normal chill. It’s turned into a full-fledged grippe. However, I suspect that it’s partly a case of men making terrible patients. Women just get on with it and know they have to recover quickly or else.”

“That’s us men. Weak and self-centered creatures.” Terrence took a long drag on his cigarette and blew out a perfect smoke ring. “Give my regards to your husband.”

My encounter with Terrence had left me feeling uneasy. I started to walk away quickly and had to resist the urge not to look back over my shoulder to see if he was watching me or following me. I told myself I had no reason to be afraid. He had done nothing to threaten me in any way. In fact he had been open, frank, and chatty with me. What’s more, I liked him. He was witty and charming. He reminded me of my playwright friend Ryan O’Hare. But I knew quite well that criminals and even murderers could be charming. And his story about coming to the gazebo on the possibility that he might be able to help himself to a drink—surely that was a thin excuse, wasn’t it? There would obviously be a drinks cabinet in the house where he could sneak a drink unobserved if he put his mind to it. It seemed more likely to me that he had wanted to come to the gazebo because he wanted to check it out. Perhaps he was concerned that he might have left something there—something that could be used as evidence against him. The truth was that I suspected that Terrence had something to hide.

I emerged into the full force of the wind as I came out onto the lawn and battled my way back to my cottage as quickly as possible.





Sixteen

“Molly, is that you?” Daniel called in a croaking voice as I came in through the front door. I went up and found him lying propped up in bed exactly as I had left him. He looked up at me, hollow-eyed and pathetic as only a man with a minor illness can look.

He held out his hand to me. “I woke up and you were nowhere around. I wondered where you had gone. I was worried about you.”

I look his hand. It felt hot and clammy. “I just went to sit in the fresh air to write a letter, although I didn’t get much of a letter written. Terrence Hannan joined me and wanted to chat.”

“I don’t like the thought of your wandering around out there,” he said. “For all we know a murder was committed here last night.”

“Just because someone wanted to get rid of Brian Hannan doesn’t mean that I’d be in any danger,” I said. “I’ve nothing to do with the Hannan family.”

“No, but your presence could be taken as snooping. You made a couple of astute observations this morning, and it is now known that I’m with the police. You could be seen as posing a threat to a murderer.”

“I think you’re exaggerating, my love.” I patted his hand as I held it. “Besides the house and grounds are full of servants and even the occasional policeman. I’m not stupid, Daniel and I’ve learned not to be reckless either.”

“Oh, no,” he said. “I can think of some fairly recent examples of your recklessness.”

“Nonsense. They were just bad luck not bad judgment,” I said. “And anyway, I’m only prone to recklessness when I’m on a case.”

“Was on a case,” he corrected.

“Yes, dear,” I said dutifully, making him smile. “Are you feeling any better?”

“I think I am,” he said. “I should be all right by morning.”

“Which will be good, because Joseph Hannan has emphasized that he wants us out of here as soon as possible.”

“That’s interesting, isn’t it,” Daniel said. “Is it just because he wants to bring his ladylove back to the guest cottage or does he think we’d be doing some investigating into Brian Hannan’s death?”

“Not the ladylove,” I said. “She caught a train back to New York the next morning.”