The Edge of Dreams (32 page)

I stared at him blankly for a second, then shook my head. “Edward can’t be dead. He’s clever, Daniel. His tutor said he has a brilliant brain. He would have faked his death and then escaped. He would have fooled them, just as he’s fooled you for so long.”

“Just not possible,” Daniel said. “According to his brother’s account, Edward was allowed to walk around the grounds, supervised, of course. Then, without warning, he climbed up on a parapet and threw himself off a footbridge onto the rocks below. The doctor with him managed to climb down instantly, but Edward had suffered massive head injuries and was already dead.”

“Oh, I see,” I said. “And there could be no mistake? The doctor actually saw his body?”

“So did several medical workers who came to help bring him up from the creek bed. And so did his brother when he was lying in his casket.”

“Oh.” I felt like a deflating balloon. “But it all fitted together so perfectly. Edward Deveraux was the one thing that all these people had in common. When did this happen?”

“This spring.”

I moved aside as a pushcart came rattling over the cobbles, its owner shouting out in Italian and the enticing smell of roasting corn on the cob reached my nostrils.

“That must mean that his death propelled someone else to seek revenge on his behalf, Daniel,” I said, formulating the idea in my head as I spoke. “Someone felt he was wrongly accused or shouldn’t have been sent to an institution, and he now wants to punish those who put Edward away. What impression did you get of his brother, Marcus?”

“Exactly the one I had when I interviewed him after his father’s death all those years ago. Pompous. Arrogant. Patronizing, although he couldn’t quite be as rude to a police captain as he was to a young detective.”

“And what were his feelings for his brother, do you think?”

“If you’re speculating that he might have committed the murders on his brother’s behalf, then you would be quite wrong. He clearly despised his brother. He called him a useless piece of flotsam. He said the family trust had been paying for the private institution all these years.… ‘Just to keep that poor excuse for a man alive,’ as he put it.”

Two constables came out of the front door, putting on helmets as they stepped into the rain. They saluted Daniel, murmuring “Good day, sir,” as they passed. Daniel glanced up at the building. “I must get back. I don’t want to annoy the old man further. We’ll discuss this tonight, Molly.” His hand on my shoulder squeezed tightly. “And believe me, I’m grateful for all that you’ve done. We must be getting closer to an answer. As you say, it has to be someone connected to Deveraux in some way.” Then he kissed me on the cheek and ran back up the steps and into the building.

I made my way home.

“Just look at you now. Like a drowned rat,” Mrs. Sullivan commented as I came in the door.

“It was too windy for my brolly to be of any use,” I said, removing a sodden hat from my wet hair.

“Take those wet things off, and I’ve warmed some of that stew for you,” my mother-in-law said in a firm voice. I did as she instructed, then came into a kitchen where a steaming bowl of stew awaited me. I ate, gratefully. Afterward I took her advice again and went up for a rest. On my way, I peeked in at Liam, who was sleeping in his crib, his face angelic and his impossibly long eyelashes sweeping his cheek. I stood there, looking down at him, overwhelmed with love and then feeling guilty that I had spent so little time with him recently. I tiptoed out and lay on my own bed, listening to the rain drumming on the roof. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but my head was too full of disturbing thoughts. Edward Deveraux had been described as a lonely little boy, stuck at home with a tutor rather than being allowed to go to school and play with other boys. His mother, who spoiled him, had died. His brother despised him and was glad he was dead. So who cared enough about him to seek revenge on his behalf? Then a picture came into my mind—a thin, pale face with hollow eyes, not unlike the way Edward Deveraux had been described. Another lonely misfit … Terrence Daughtery.

Had he been closer to Edward than he chose to admit? He had said that Edward did experiments with animals and insects. Had Terrence shown him how to do those things? Had they done them together—two similar lonely young men? Or had he used Edward as an excuse to create a string of murders, all seeming to be tied to Edward himself … to accomplish the one murder he wanted—that of his mother? I toyed with this idea. We had discussed before the possibility that the random string of murders was to hide the one murder that mattered. Terrence seemed desolate and grieving after his mother’s death. But I had been told she was overbearing. What if he had finally had enough of being dominated and planned her demise? Of course he would feel tremendous remorse afterward, or Terrence Daughtery might just be a very good actor, feigning grief so that nobody ever suspected him.

The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. I had wondered before why nobody heard his mother scream, which she surely would have done if a strange man had come into her bathroom. She would have been indignant if her son had come in. She would have ordered him out, but would not have screamed. I couldn’t wait to tell Daniel tonight when he came home.

I must have drifted off to sleep, because I was back in the underground dark place, unable to move with the rumbling all around me. I jerked myself awake and lay there, my heart racing. What could possibly be the meaning of this dream? I wondered if Dr. Werner were still here in New York and if he could perhaps help me. He was supposed to be an expert on this, according to Gus, however little I had liked his handling of poor Mabel. Perhaps things were done differently in Germany and Austria and doctors were stern, unsympathetic characters over there. I’d have to ask Gus when I next saw her.…

I was just in the middle of this thought when there was a knock at my front door. I looked down from my window to see Sid and Gus standing there. I rose from my bed and ran down the stairs to open the door to them before my mother-in-law could tell them I was resting and send them away.

“Molly, dear, how are you feeling?” Sid asked. “I hope we didn’t disturb your nap.”

“I’m well on the road to recovery, thank you,” I said. “Come on in.”

“We won’t stay,” Gus said, stepping just over the threshold to get out of the rain. “We’re going to see Minnie Hamilton. The letter we hoped for has just arrived from Professor Freud in Austria. You remember I wrote to him, telling him about Mabel and asking him for a recommendation? Well, he’s kindly written back.” She held up a letter written in a strange, foreign script. To me it looked as if a spider had crawled into the inkwell and then across the page. “And listen to what he says,” she continued. “I’ll translate as best I can, since I’m still not an expert at reading German handwriting. Anyway, I got the gist of it. He says that he believes Dr. Otto Werner might still be in America, and if he is, then he could recommend no man more highly for the job. He says Dr. Werner’s insights into the workings of the subconscious mind are brilliant, especially in the new field of the interpretation of dreams.”

“You see,” Sid chimed in. “We found the right man, half by chance. So we’re going back to see him again, and we’ll show him the letter from Professor Freud. That will undoubtedly do the trick and make him realize that he is the only one who can help Mabel. And the more we thought about it, the more it made sense to do as Dr. Werner suggested and have him take Mabel to the clinic in Switzerland, where he can work with her. Of course she can’t be cured in a few days. We were silly to think that she could.”

“Sid thought that maybe I should volunteer to go with her, since I speak German and have the freedom to travel,” Gus said. “I wouldn’t want to leave Sid alone too long. Just enough to see Mabel safely settled in.”

“That’s really good of you, Gus,” I said. “I’d feel happier if you were with Mabel. And I’d also feel happier if she were safely far away from New York.”

“Why is that?” Gus asked.

“Because I think we’re dealing with a dangerous man who has killed many times. I think he killed her parents, and her life may also be in danger.” As I said the words, I wondered if Daniel had a photograph of Terrence Daughtery, and if showing it to Mabel might reawaken the memories she had suppressed.

“Do you now know who killed Mabel’s parents?” Sid asked sharply.

“We may,” I said. “And if she recognized the photograph, that would be proof, wouldn’t it?”

“We’d have to ask Dr. Werner about that first,” Gus said. “We don’t know if seeing the man who killed her parents would be too much for her delicate mental state.”

“Of course,” I said.

“I just hope we’re in time, and Dr. Werner hasn’t already sailed home to Germany,” Sid said. “He told us he was leaving in a few days, didn’t he?”

“If he’s sailed already and is going back to Professor Freud in Vienna, then all is not lost. Maybe I can take Mabel over to meet him in Switzerland,” Gus said.

“In any case, please warn Mrs. Hamilton to watch Mabel carefully and keep the doors locked,” I said. “This man may not have realized initially that he was seen. He is extremely cunning and clever.”

“We’ll warn her to take all precautions,” Sid said, “and taking her out of the country seems the obvious thing to do.”

We parted company, they to the Hamiltons’ residence and I to retrieve a crying baby from his crib. He had obviously heard his beloved aunts’ voices and was incensed that he wasn’t being brought down to see them. I placated him with a rusk and some milk, and he cheered up completely when Bridie came into the kitchen holding his treasured new ball.

I helped prepare the evening meal and waited impatiently for Daniel to return home. He came just before seven, his jacket and hat drenched with rain.

“Absolutely pouring out there now,” he said.

“Didn’t you take an umbrella?” his mother asked, helping him off with his jacket before I could do so.

“Too much trouble. You can’t move quickly through crowded streets with an umbrella,” he said.

She sighed. “You two are as bad as each other. Both going to come to a sorry end catching pneumonia, if you want my opinion.”

“I expect we’ll survive.” Daniel gave me a cautious smile as he came into the kitchen, not sure whether my wrath had completely subsided. “Where’s Liam? In bed already?”

“He just went up. Bridie’s reading him a story,” I said.

“That girl is turning into a proper little nursemaid,” he said. “Too bad we can’t keep her.”

I glanced at Daniel’s mother.

“It’s strange you should say that,” she said, “because I was just telling Molly that the child needs a more normal life than she gets all alone with me and Martha. She needs to go to a proper school and mix with children her own age. So if you’re willing to keep her for a while, then I’m willing to sacrifice her—for her own good and for yours.”

Daniel turned to me. “That might not be a bad idea. What do you think, Molly?”

“You know I’ve always loved Bridie,” I said. “I think it would be a grand idea.”

“Then we’ll give it a try, if you’re sure you can spare her,” Daniel said.

So one good thing was going to happen, at last.

“Let’s go up and say good-night to the boy, shall we?” Daniel put an arm around my shoulder.

As we walked up the stairs he whispered, “I’m really sorry about what happened earlier today. I hope you understood.”

“Of course,” I said. “I didn’t want to bring trouble on you, and I would never have come, but I thought that what I’d found was so important.”

“I wish you had really solved it for us,” Daniel said.

“I’ve been thinking since,” I said, “and I’ve come up with someone else who might be the kind of person to carry out these murders. Terrence Daughtery. He was Edward’s tutor.”

“The tutor?” Daniel frowned. “What motive would he have had for killing all those people?”

“Two possible motives come to mind.” I leaned against the banister at the top of the stairs. “He might possibly have been fonder of Edward than he admitted. Maybe a real bond developed between them in those days. He might have felt guilty that his testimony helped put Edward away for life, and then when he heard that Edward had died, he decided to avenge him. Or … and this seems more likely…” I leaned closer to Daniel, just in case his mother was listening at the bottom of the stairs, “he was secretly planning to murder his domineering mother, and he used the other murders to make them seem tied somehow to Edward Deveraux. Perhaps he hadn’t even heard that Edward had died. Perhaps he wanted to pin them all on him.”

Daniel stood staring at me, a frown creasing his forehead as he considered this.

“It would explain why his mother never screamed,” I went on. “She would have screamed if a strange man had entered her bathroom, and neighbors would have heard that scream.”

Daniel was still frowning. “Let me think about this,” he said.

A loud cry came from Liam’s room as he heard Daniel’s voice. “Dada!” he yelled.

Daniel gave me a smile. “We’ll discuss it later. More urgent matters call.” Then he walked through into Liam’s nursery. “How’s my boy?” he called in his booming voice.

Bridie beamed when we told her the plans for her over the dinner table, then she tried to look sad when she turned to Mrs. Sullivan. “I’ll miss staying with you,” she said. “Will you be all right without me?”

“Heavens, child, I’ve lived alone for a long while now,” Mrs. Sullivan said.

“And of course you’re welcome to stay with us anytime you want,” I said in what I hoped was a convincing manner. “And we’ll all come up to you in the summer.”

So that was settled, and I couldn’t have been more happy. It wasn’t until we were alone in the bedroom that I had a chance to discuss more urgent matters with Daniel.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” He looked up at me as he unbuttoned his shirt. “Terrence Daughtery. He certainly does seem to be the type—antisocial, under his mother’s thumb, young, smart, agile…” He paused. “But who would go to all that trouble to avenge a friend, or to commit so many murders to cover up one valid one?”