“Of course. We’ll save that for later, when we’re back in our own house. I’ve never felt comfortable making love to you in that apartment with Liam in the same room.” He ran a hand over my shoulder. “You get some rest, and I have to go back to work.”
“Again? It’s almost dinnertime.”
“Afraid so. Another briefing with the rail people.”
“They work you too hard, Daniel.”
“I do what has to be done. And if I think that a monster is still at large in this city, someone who feels he can murder at will, then I have to keep working until we stop him.”
“There is one thing, Daniel,” I said as he headed for the door. “I had a thought. What if we weren’t looking for one person, but for several?”
“A gang, you mean?” He shook his head. “This doesn’t have the stamp of gangland killings.”
“I didn’t mean a gang. I was thinking more of a secret society. What if their initiation requires them to kill? That might explain why these murders were so very different.”
Daniel frowned, then shook his head. “A secret society? This is the twentieth century, Molly. And New York City.”
“One of the victims was a student at the university. Students have been known to do such things.”
“He was a victim, not a perpetrator.”
“He was the only one whose death was immediately recognized as a murder. What if he was a member of such a society, but decided he wanted no part of what they were doing?”
Daniel shook his head again. “An interesting theory, but I can’t take it seriously. Obviously we have looked into the backgrounds of the various victims. We have a good idea of his character, his friends, and his family. He was an easygoing, outgoing, likable young man with a bright future ahead of him.” He paused, then added, “Of course, he wasn’t a saint. He liked to go out drinking with his friends. He found it hard to live within his means, as many students do. His father said that he’d gotten into debt, and the father had to give him a severe talking to. But he was not the sort to be involved in anything underhanded.”
“Parents don’t always know what their sons are capable of getting up to,” I pointed out.
“I can have one of my men make discreet inquiries, I suppose,” Daniel said. “But I don’t see how we’re going to flush out a secret society. Besides, I feel in my gut that we’re dealing with one person who is waging some kind of personal vendetta.”
“Against you,” I said.
“I don’t want to believe that, but you may be right. We’re no farther ahead with the cause of the train crash. My superiors want the locomotive driver to be prosecuted. They think this is something to do with a looming union strike. But he swears he is innocent and feels terrible about what happened. He also swears there was a Ninth Avenue disk on the front of his train when he set off.”
“I can attest to that too. So can the other passengers,” I said.
Daniel shook his head. “If only one thing made sense, I’d know where to start,” he said. “But keep coming up with your suggestions. If nothing else, they cause me to reexamine my own theories.”
He closed the door behind him. I couldn’t resist a small smile of satisfaction. Who would have thought, a couple of years ago, that Daniel Sullivan would ever have admitted that my suggestions were useful to him? We had come a long way together!
Sid and Gus were in earnest discussion at dinner, over the best way the suffrage movement should move forward. Sid thought the time had come for more desperate measures. Suffragettes in England were chaining themselves to the railings outside the Parliament buildings. They were attacking policemen and their horses. Gus heartily disapproved of this.
“If we want to have the average housewife on our side, we have to behave in a way she can admire,” she said. “We have no hope of succeeding until every woman in the country realizes that it is her right to vote, and that she is being denied her full participation in society.”
“So how do we win over the housewives of New York, let alone Kansas and Alabama?” Sid said. She turned to me. “You’re a married woman, Molly. You have to keep the peace with a typical male. What do you suggest?”
“I wish I knew,” I said. “It’s part of allowing women control over their own lives, isn’t it? We’re raised to be told that men are wiser and more experienced and that they know what’s best for us. I suppose it’s the education of girls that must be changed. For myself, I ruled the roost over my younger brothers after my mother died. I refused to wear a corset then, and I leap at Daniel now anytime he tries to lord it over me.”