Hush Now, Don't You Cry(84)

“No, of course not.” I laughed, feigning modesty.

“You may well do better than our local police,” she said. “Prescott was only made chief because of family connections. He hasn’t exactly demonstrated any great skills that I have witnessed. Good luck to you, my dear. I like a resourceful woman. I always felt I should have been able to make much of my life if I hadn’t been saddled with Mama.” She pulled back the drapes and peeked out of the window. “I believe you may have visitors,” she said, and indeed Sid and Gus were walking up the street toward the front gate.

“You’re right,” I said. “These are my friends from New York.”

“Staying at the Roman Palace, no less,” she said dryly. “My, but you move in exalted circles.”

“The Roman Palace is owned by my friend’s cousin,” I said. “She’s a Walcott.”

“Well, she would be, wouldn’t she?” She reached out and patted my hand. “You’d better run along then. But I’ll keep my eyes open for you, just in case there is anything else to be seen.”

“Thank you.” I smiled at her fondly. “I have enjoyed talking with you. I’d like to come again.”

As I went to go she said, “That family, they are great ones for secrecy, aren’t they? Such a lot to hide. All those comings and goings through the little door in the ivy.”

I turned back quickly. “Really?” I asked. “Who, for example?”

“The brother, for example.”

“Joseph Hannan or the priest?”

“Not the priest. The one who resembles Brian Hannan. Always slipping out—or helping a young woman to slip in.” She grinned wickedly. “And his son too. Slipping out, slipping in at the oddest hours.”

“I suspected that,” I said. “He seems like a devious one to me.”

“He went out that evening, you know. I was going to bed, looked out and I saw him. About nine-thirty or ten.”

“Interesting.”

I saw Gus and Sid opening the gate and going through. I knew I had to leave but I didn’t want to abandon this treasure trove of information.

“And I’ll tell you another one,” Miss Gallinger said. “The young woman. The daughter, isn’t she? Very beautiful, but also quite devious. She used to slip out a lot. In fact the day that the girl died, I don’t believe her mother was even there.” She paused for effect. “I never did find out where she went. Do tell me if you ever learn, won’t you? I should be most interested.”

“I will,” I said. “But I really must go now.”

“Of course you must,” she said. Then she called after me, “Take care, my dear. I suspect that the Hannan clan are not the nicest of people in some ways. It’s never good when people acquire money and don’t know what to do with it.”





Twenty-nine

Sid and Gus were just closing the front gate behind them when there was a clatter of horse’s hooves and a cab came up the street toward us at a lively clip. As I watched it came to a halt outside the gate. The cabby climbed down to assist the passenger and out climbed Daniel’s mother.

“Holy Mother of God,” I muttered. That was all I needed right now. But of course I hurried across to join her like a dutiful daughter-in-law.

“Mrs. Sullivan. How good of you to come,” I said.

“As if I could stay away with my boy lying at death’s door,” she said. “Why are you not at his side?”

“He is a lot better than when I sent you the telegram,” I said. “Still not his usual self, but at least that awful fever has broken.”

Gus and Sid had come over to join us as Mrs. Sullivan paid the cabby and the cab departed.

“You remember my mother-in-law, don’t you?” I said. “Mother Sullivan, you remember my two bridesmaids, Elena Goldfarb and Augusta Walcott.”

“Of course I do. I suppose you are here because your family owns one of the cottages, Miss Walcott?” Mrs. Sullivan was all charm and politeness.

“We’re here to support Molly,” Gus said. “She was so worried about Daniel and we thought she needed company.”

“How very kind of you. Molly, you are lucky to have such considerate friends,” she said. “But don’t let’s stand here. Take me to my boy.” I opened the gates and ushered them through. “My my,” she said. “What an imposing-looking place. Not that I’d want it for myself … drafty inside, is it?”

“Rather gloomy,” I said, “but we are not staying there. We are in the little guest cottage on the property. It’s rather cramped, as you’ll see.”