Brooklyn on Fire (29 page)

“Mary! On the platform! Coming your way!”

Mary stepped out of her car, and sure enough Liam was running wildly toward her. Mary was very proficient at jujitsu, but there was no time for that. She quickly stuck out her foot and sent Liam sprawling to the ground, landing on his back. When he started to get up, she grabbed him by the shirt with one hand, and then, using the space between her thumb and pointer finger, she drove her other hand into his windpipe. He was immediately helpless, gasping for air.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Riley. You’ll breathe again. I’m not letting you off that easily. You framed my brother and you had three innocent women killed, including my good friend Patti. And you’re going to pay for all of it.”

Superintendent Campbell arrived, out of breath. Mary looked at him. He nodded, took out his handcuffs, and gave them to her. She turned Liam around and started putting them on him.

“I once saw Thomas Edison demonstrate the barbaric power of the electric chair, using a calf as his test subject. It burst into flames, emitting a shriek so horrifying that it made me sick and I couldn’t eat for days. But I’m still going to be there when they strap you in, and then I’m going out and having a steak dinner.”

Once the cuffs were on, she helped him up to his feet and turned him to face her.

“Liam Riley, it gives me great pleasure to say…you’re under arrest, you bastard!”

I
T WASN’T LONG
before Liam confessed to everything and named Shorty as the man he’d hired to commit the murders: Gabrielle Evans for the inheritance he didn’t get, Abigail Corday to keep the John Worsham plan silent, and Patti to stop Sean from discovering Gabrielle Evans’s murderer. Chief McKellar sent a dozen policemen out to scour the streets for Shorty. Mary stayed for a while to tell what she knew, and then she was done. The rest was police work, and she still wasn’t part of the force. When she and Superintendent Campbell delivered Liam to Second Street Station, Mary asked to use their phone. Her parents couldn’t afford a phone, so she called the people down the block, who went to get them. Needless to say, when her parents heard the news that Sean would soon be free, they were beyond thrilled.

Mary then called George to also let him know and to apologize for leaving him alone so long at Lester Hackel Jr.’s office. George’s butler told her that he was at Brooklyn Hospital.

“What? Is he okay? What happened?” Mary asked, both surprised and concerned. The butler had no details, and she quickly prevailed upon Superintendent Campbell, who lent her his carriage.

“Keep it for the evening, Mary. I’ll get a ride home. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

“Thank
you,
Mary Handley. Very nice work.”

When Mary arrived at Brooklyn Hospital in downtown Brooklyn, George’s brother Cornelius was helping him check out. Miss Amundsen had also stayed to make sure he was okay. And thankfully, George
was
going to be okay. The doctors had stitched up the cut on his head, and any scar would be covered by his hair. The weakness and temporary dizziness he had been experiencing were the result of a concussion. The symptoms were presently gone, but they would probably return, and he had been told to limit his activity for a while. George seemed himself at the moment, and the doctors said the odds were good that he would eventually experience a full recovery. Of course, he needed to see a doctor for periodic check-ups.

Mary felt awful about what had happened. “If I hadn’t asked you to watch—”

“Stop it, Mary,” said George. “The only way I’ll allow you to take responsibility is if you personally bonked me on the head yourself.”

“I didn’t, but I reserve the right for some time in the future when you’re being difficult.” She kissed him on the cheek, and they hugged, which prompted Cornelius to interrupt.

“I hate to shorten this touching reunion, but I need to get home. Shall we, George?”

“I have a carriage, too,” said Mary. “Cornelius has done plenty. Let me take you home.”

George turned to Cornelius. “Go ahead. Mary and I will be fine.”

“I can’t thank you enough for taking care of George when I couldn’t be there.”

“Just performing my sibling responsibility. Aren’t I, George?”

“Yes, Cornelius, and you do it so well.”

Mary noted the coldness of this exchange, but this wasn’t the time to address it.

Cornelius turned to Miss Amundsen. “Can I drop you someplace, young lady?”

“As a matter of fact, you can. I don’t live far from here.”

“Good, you can direct my driver.”

The four of them said their good-byes, with George and Mary thanking Miss Amundsen profusely for bringing him to the hospital. In no time, George and Mary were alone, and she asked him about the specifics of what had happened.

Unfortunately, there were very few specifics. George had no idea who or what had hit him. It wasn’t robbery, because nothing had been taken. His wallet was completely intact, his money all still there. Mary suspected that it was Shorty, and when she informed him about the events of her evening, he agreed. Who else would have a vested interest in seeing that Liam Riley was not caught? They were both thankful that George wasn’t one of Shorty’s assignments and that he didn’t view George as a serious threat or he wouldn’t still be alive. When they finished speculating, George congratulated Mary for solving the crimes, showing genuine excitement that Sean would be set free.

The rain was as strong as ever, and so was the thunder and lightning as they made their way in Superintendent Campbell’s carriage to George’s house. As they were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, Mary asked George about the odd exchange between Cornelius and him.

“What odd exchange?” asked George as if he knew nothing about it.

“You know,” said Mary, “the one that was colder than Arctic winds in January.”

“Please be more specific. There are so many.” Mary looked at George, and he knew he needed to explain further. “My brother and I don’t see eye to eye on the minor things: politics, art, social associations, how we spend our money, and generally what we do with our lives. On the other hand, we do agree on our lineage.”

“I’m sorry, but thankfully he’s your brother and not your father.”

“No doubt. Unfortunately, though, there is a hitch to that.”

“If you’re about to reveal a deep, dark secret of perverse family behavior, please don’t,” Mary joked. “Just know that I love you even if you have six toes on each foot. And by the way, I have seen your feet, and even though they don’t possess six toes, they are suspect.”

“Ah, you noticed. My feet are always the last thing I reveal to anyone with whom I wish to become intimate. People have been known to shriek in fear and run off.”

“I must’ve passed the test, because I’m not running off any time soon.”

He put his arm around her and hugged her tightly. They remained that way in silence until they passed over the bridge into Manhattan. Then Mary broke it.

“What’s wrong? And don’t tell me it’s the conk on the head. I know that isn’t true.”

“It’s useless trying to hide anything from that brilliant mind of yours.”

“Then don’t hide it. I promise I won’t bite. I gave that up when I was four and bit Sean. He didn’t taste very good.”

George smiled wryly, then let it out. “I told you that until today I had business for a few days concerning Biltmore and couldn’t sleuth with you. That’s true, but it isn’t what you might have thought. I wasn’t buying more land, hiring more workers, or anything of that sort. I was fighting to keep it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My father passed away five years ago. Since I was always more concerned with the arts instead of business and since Cornelius was older than me—nineteen years older, to be exact—he thought Cornelius would be a good person to oversee my inheritance, protecting me from careless expenditures and from getting swindled. Cornelius has taken that a step further. He has decided to become my moral compass.”

“What is he trying to do?

“Take away Biltmore and most of my inheritance, leaving me with only my house in Manhattan and whatever is already in my bank account from my monthly trust allotment. He says he could take it all, but since I’m his brother he’s decided to be generous.”

“Obviously, you’re going to fight him.”

“That’s precisely what I’ve been doing the last few days. Regrettably, his lawyers must be better than mine, because it appears that he has won.”

“He can’t do that!”

“You haven’t been listening, darling. Apparently, he can.”

Mary sat there for a while, absorbing everything George had told her, then turned toward him and very seriously asked, “Is it me, George? Am I the one who has offended his moral compass? Have I made you wander off course?”

“Why discuss his skewed logic? Cornelius is—”

“I knew it. It was my dreadful performance at our engagement dinner, wasn’t it?”

“He had made up his mind before that. The dinner was a setup, to bring me to my senses, as he put it. He doesn’t want me to marry you.”

“I’m sure tonight only reinforced his belief that you are in league with the devil.”

“Mary, there is absolutely no way I’m going to let him and his twisted values control us.”

“But he is. He’s destroying your dream. He’s taking away Biltmore.”

“Sometimes there are sacrifices a man has—”

“Damn it, George! I won’t allow it!”

“As brilliant and as resourceful as you are, my darling, I’m afraid you have no control over this.”

“What if we don’t get married? What if we just live together in sin? It might be fun. We could be that notorious couple who causes everyone’s eyebrows to rise when we enter a room.”

“As delicious as that sounds, it would just cause his moral compass to spin out of control and explode.”

“At least we’d be doing something. We can’t just take it.”

“I’m afraid there are some things in life you just have to accept and move on. Cornelius’s idiotic and prejudiced behavior happens to be one of them. He’s threatened to disinherit his son Neily from money Cornelius didn’t even earn but was given by right of his birth. And Neily is dating a banker’s daughter.”

“I see, and I’m a mere butcher’s daughter.”

“That’s him, Mary, not me.”

“I know. I’m trying to see it from his side. Here I am: a poor butcher’s daughter who is, of all things, a female private detective. My brother’s been arrested for murder—”

“And he’s just been proven innocent.”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s the publicity, the headlines, the constant scrutiny, and possible scandal with which I will always be associated. I’m surprised Cornelius hasn’t suffered a heart attack already.”

“To hell with Cornelius!”

“Easier said than done.”

“A phrase originated by William Horman, a former headmaster at Eton College in England. See how good you are for me, Mary? You’re getting me to read and broaden my mind.”

Mary wasn’t listening. She was trying to figure a way out of their situation, but she could only come to one upsetting conclusion.

“We can’t get married, George.”

“No, Mary! You can’t allow him—”

“But he has. I know what it’s like to have a dream, and I refuse to let you give up yours.”

“That’s my choice, Mary, not yours! I’d much rather have you than any piece of land!”

“Listen to your words. You’re already lying to yourself. Biltmore is much more than a piece of land to you and you know it.”

The two of them were silent, letting the difficulty of their situation consume them as the carriage pulled up and stopped in front of George’s house. Mary spoke first. Her heart was breaking, but Mary was never one to shy away from any problem, no matter how painful.

“I don’t see a way out of this. Even if I’m willing to give up my dream of being a detective, and I’m not sure I am, I’m still a butcher’s daughter. There’s no changing that.”

George grabbed her and held on tight. “I love you, Mary, and I’m not giving you up.”

“And I love you, more than anyone I have ever known or will ever know.” Mary’s voice started to crack, causing her to stop, but every ounce of her body told her she had to push on or she never would. She gazed into his eyes. “What happens three, five, seven years from now when you realize you will never get to accomplish what you know in your heart you were put on this earth to do? How will you feel then?”

“As long as I have you—”

“Damn it, George! We can’t lie to ourselves! This is too important!”

George decided not to debate her any further, at least not that night. His voice softened. “You’re right, Mary. This is too important, and it is much too important to decide right here and now, especially after such a long and active day. Promise me that you will not come to any conclusions now, and you will think about this for a while.”

“I will, George, but—”

“Promise me you’ll give it time, Mary. You already know what my decision is.”

“I promise.”

“Good. I love you, Mary Handley.”

He kissed her. The passion was still there, but lack of passion had never been their problem. They finally broke, and George alighted from the carriage. He went to his front door, Mary watching him all the way, and then he turned to blow a kiss before he went inside.

A sense of paralysis came over Mary. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t even speak the words to the driver to take her home. She just sat there, stunned, as the tears started to come. There would be no stopping them. The pain was too great. Then the rage came and she lost control. She started wildly kicking the floor, banging her hands on any hard surface she could find. She was smoldering inside. Mary flung the door open, jumped to the ground, and marched up to George’s house.

He instinctively knew the loud knock on his door was her. George waved off his butler and answered it himself. The rain was pouring harder than ever, and Mary was getting wetter by the second.

“Tell your brother he’s an ass.”

“Gladly. Now come inside. You’re getting drenched.”

She surprised George by throwing her arms around him and kissing him. It was a different embrace. There was a ferocity to it that was unlike her. When she let go, she placed something in his hand. It was the ring case containing the engagement ring he had given her.

“Mary—”

“It’s completely reusable. We never did have time to get it sized.” She started back to the carriage, and he stepped outside.

“I refuse to accept this.”

“And I refuse to let you ruin your life.” She got into the carriage.

“Mary—”

“Good-bye, George,” she said, then signaled the driver to take off.

George took a few more steps out into the rain. As the thunder exploded in the sky, the lightning crackled, and the water dripped down his face, he screamed, “Mary! Mary, come back here!”

But she wasn’t coming back, and he knew he had lost her.