In a Gilded Cage - By Rhys Bowen Page 0,78

seducing murderer into giving her a confession. He looked harmless enough.

“I was wondering if your mother-in-law was still in residence here,” I said.

“No, thank God,” he replied. “At last I can breathe again.” Then he pulled a boyish face. “Oh, dear. Not very tactful of me, was it. You’re not a bosom friend of hers, are you?”

“Not at all,” I said. “I was a friend of your dear departed wife’s.”

His face fell. “I see. Poor Fanny. Who would have thought it. She may have looked delicate but I always thought she was strong as an ox. It’s quite shaken me up, I can tell you. I haven’t felt like going to work ever since the funeral and I keep thinking I’m coming down with whatever that awful sickness was that took her away so quickly.”

“It was very sad for all of us,” I said. “You have my deepest sympathy.”

He nodded. “Thank you. She was a lovely girl, wasn’t she? So sweet-natured.” He paused to clear his throat.

“And I understand you were away during her last moments. That must have been an awful shock for you.” It was out before I could weigh the wisdom of it. But if he’d already tried to run me down once, then he obviously knew who I was. And if he hadn’t tried to run me down, then who on earth had?

“Yes, I was out of town on business,” he said. “I can’t tell you how badly I feel about that now, but when I left she really did seem to be on the mend.”

I tried desperately to think of other clever things to ask him, ways to bring Bella or Fifi into the conversation, but my brain refused to cooperate.

“Well, I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” I said. “Could you possibly give me the Bradleys’ address?” I tried to come up with a plausible reason for this. “I was asked to pass on condolences by an old friend of the family I met while sailing this weekend.”

“It’s One-eighteen East Fifty-ninth, just off the park. And you like to sail, do you?”

“Sometimes,” I said. “I was with a party on the Hudson yesterday. It was such a jolly time that I felt guilty.”

“I say,” he said suddenly. “I’m keeping you here on the doorstep. Where are my manners? Would you like to come in and have a cup of coffee?”

Now this really was tempting, but the words “Will you walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly” did flash through my head. And the fact that he had opened his own front door indicated that there might be no servants in the place.

Either way, I decided that discretion was the better part of valor. “It’s very kind of you, but I should go straight to the Bradleys, then I’m meeting another of Fanny’s old friends for lunch. Emily Boswell, do you remember her?”

“Little Emily? Of course I do. How is she?”

“Very well, thank you. Working for her living, of course, having no family. She’s working for a druggist near here.”

Was I wrong or did a muscle twitch on his face? “Really?” he said. “She was always a bright girl. I’m sure she’ll go far.”

“It would seem so,” I said. “And her young man is also very smart. He’s studying to be a pharmacist.”

“Really?” He stared at me for a moment. “Well, good for her,” he said. “If you see her, tell her I wish her well.”

“I will indeed. Thank you for your time. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

“No trouble at all.” He gave me a beaming smile.

I felt rather shaky as I rode the elevator down again. Had I been foolish to have brought up Emily and her drug connection? That news had definitely made him uneasy, I could see from his face. Then another alarming thought came to me: had I exposed her to danger by telling Anson about her?

I was across the park, hardly noticing its leafy beauty today, and found the Bradleys’ house with little difficulty. Actually, house was an understatement. Mansion described it better. It was impressive, even in an area of mansions: red brick, adorned with white columns and white brick around the windows, not unlike the houses in the fancier squares of Dublin. I knocked, told the maid my business, and was admitted to a square hall with a staircase and galleries rising into the gloom. After a while there came a tap of heels on the parquet floor and Mrs. Bradley came toward me, still