The Edge of Dreams (8 page)

“Fascinating,” I said. I looked at the papers. There was only one more.

“‘August 22. Herman Hoffman. Age forty-five. Lower West Side. Twenty-nine West Street. Owned a small meat-processing business. He was found in his meat safe on Monday morning, dead.

“‘The note said: “Frozen, packed, and ready for delivery.”’”

I shuddered. “How horrible. Poor man. What an awful way to die. And that note—it shows a character completely devoid of human feeling, wouldn’t you say? Pleased with his own cleverness.”

“I’m afraid you’re right. A warped and twisted person who delights in killing. All I can hope is that he meant what he said when he talked about saving the best for last—that he really intends to stop this killing spree.”

“Going back to the meat packer—what do we know about him? He didn’t supply meat to the judge or any of the others, I take it?”

“He had married and moved to the city about a year ago. Until then he ran a butcher’s shop in the Catskills. From what his wife tells us, it was an extremely happy marriage, a second for him after his first wife died. A first for her, somewhat late in life, but they were both looking forward to a bright future.”

“If he was locked in the meat safe all weekend, didn’t she report him missing?” I asked. “Isn’t that suspicious?”

“That’s the thing. He had told her he was going up to Woodstock to visit his mother. She didn’t want to come, not being too fond of his mother. So she thought she knew where he was.”

“And she hadn’t recently taken out a life insurance policy on him?” I asked.

Daniel laughed. “What a gruesome little thing you are. Most women would have reached for the smelling salts at the very start of this conversation, not discussed it as calmly as if it concerned the price of sugar.”

“You know I’m not most women.” I turned back to the mirror to put a final pin in my unruly hair. Then something struck me. I put down the hairpins and leafed through the papers.

“There’s one missing,” I said, waving them triumphantly.

“What do you mean? You’ve read them all.”

I shook my head. “The murders are all about three weeks apart, right up to yesterday’s train crash, if we include that. But there wasn’t one in early August. Why not? Could that have been one murder he couldn’t pull off, or a note that somehow didn’t get delivered to you? Or was he off on vacation at the seashore?”

Daniel took the papers from me and examined them, frowning. “That’s an acute observation, Molly. But if there was one murder he couldn’t commit, how would we ever find out about it?”

“I don’t know, but it seems that’s your best chance of solving this,” I said. “Because at the beginning of August, somebody might have lived to tell the tale.”

Seven

Downstairs a clock chimed with a sweet, melodious
ting
.

Daniel stood up. “I should be going. The commissioner wants me at today’s briefing and will no doubt be annoyed that I’ve come up with nothing new.”

“Apart from the missing date in August,” I pointed out.

“That may have a perfectly simple explanation,” Daniel said. “It was devilishly hot. There were the usual summer epidemics in the city at that time. Our killer could have caught some disease and been too sick to carry out his planned murder. Or he could have decided to let the early-August victim live. Or it could be that he hadn’t actually planned these murders to be three weeks apart, and the dates were purely circumstantial.”

“I think he sounds like the sort of meticulous individual to whom dates would matter. It’s also important that several of these deaths, if not all, could have been ruled as accidents. Feebleminded Dolly stepping out in front of a tram; the overbearing mother accidentally knocking her lamp into the bath; the judge’s wife dying of gastric trouble; the butcher accidentally locking himself into the safe. Only your university student’s cyanide would have shown up as a deliberate murder.” I looked up at Daniel. “This is a game to him, Daniel. A game of cat and mouse, and he wants to make sure you stay on his trail.”

“You can say that again.” Daniel sighed as he walked toward the door. “He is enjoying taunting me, showing up my inadequacies.”

“All the more reason to figure out who might have a personal grudge against you. I think you should do as I suggested, and make a list of criminals who were convicted and executed thanks to you. My guess is that this is someone’s brother or best friend, seeking revenge on behalf of a dead prisoner.”

“But why is he including innocent people in his revenge?” Daniel lingered with his hand on the door handle. “Why would anyone gloat over pushing a simple old woman under a trolley?”

“That’s what you need to find out,” I said. “Either they are all random killings, or all but one are random killings, meant to hide the one instance in which he wanted a person dead. Or … he is enjoying sending you off on fools’ errands, or…” And I paused, considering this, “Or he has some kind of agenda and reason for wanting these particular people dead.”

“And me with no way of finding out why.” Daniel frowned, turned to go, then remembered something. “Oh, Molly, I meant to tell you. I did accomplish something positive this morning,” he said. “I stopped by Sloane’s and ordered two beds—one for the spare room, and a single one for the maid’s room upstairs. That way my mother can come to stay right away to take care of you, and she can help you look for a new servant. Perhaps you’d feel strong enough to make a list of the various sheets and pillows and things that we’ll need, and I can ask Wanamaker’s dry goods to deliver. The sooner our life is back to normal, the better for all of us.”

Then he gave me an encouraging smile and closed the door behind him. I sat at the vanity, looking at my reflection in the mirror and trying not to feel annoyed. I suppose he genuinely thought he was doing me a kindness by bringing his mother down to look after me, but I took it to mean that he wanted me out of Sid and Gus’s clutches as soon as possible. I finished my toilette and went downstairs, easing myself down step by step, as walking was still painful. I came into the drawing room to find Sid on the floor, creeping around on all fours and growling as she chased a delighted Liam.

“I’m a bear,” she said, looking up as I came in. “A very fierce bear.” And she growled again, making Liam shriek, half in delight and half in terror.

“Don’t be too realistic,” I said. “I don’t want him having nightmares.”

“He likes it,” she said, standing up and brushing off the dust from her black silk trousers. “It’s good for children to be scared from time to time. How about some luncheon—the delicatessen had a fine-looking ham this morning, and we’ve tomatoes as an extra treat?”

“Oh, that’s nice,” I said. Having grown up without ever meeting a tomato, I still hadn’t really developed a taste for them, but I did know they were a luxury item, and there was a hot debate going on as to whether they were a fruit or a vegetable.

“And you’d like some lunch, wouldn’t you, young man?” Sid swept up Liam and carried him through to the kitchen. It had rained during the night, leaving the air bright and fresh with just a hint of fall about it. The windows of the conservatory behind the kitchen had been opened, letting in a refreshing breeze. I sat Liam on my knee and fed him soup and mashed potato, both of which he ate with relish in spite of the garlic I could taste in the former. Clearly he’d grow up to be a young man of cosmopolitan taste.

“Do I gather that Daniel was annoyed I had been to your apartment?” Sid asked as she bustled about the kitchen, retrieving items from the meat safe. “He certainly seemed put out when I told him.”

“He wasn’t angry with you. He was frightened. He thought someone might have come to kidnap me,” I said.

“He seems obsessed with your being kidnapped, Molly.” Sid undid wax paper and laid slices of ham on a plate as she spoke. “Does he have reason to fear for your safety? Are you keeping something from me?”

I wasn’t sure what to say. I had promised Daniel that I wouldn’t mention his investigation. I managed a bright smile as she brought the plate across to the table. “I’m afraid Daniel is overreacting at the moment. I think my being involved in the train crash yesterday has really unnerved him, especially after what happened to us earlier this year.”

“I can certainly understand that.” Sid put a plate of spring onions and tomatoes next to the ham. “But this Italian gang is no longer making threats to you personally, is it?”

“No. That’s all settled,” I could say with honesty. “The moment all charges were dropped against their leader a sort of truce was established. I don’t think we’re ever going to be able to subdue them completely, with new Italian immigrants pouring into the city all the time. Daniel thinks that we’ll have to learn to live with them.”

“I’m glad I’m not in his position,” Sid said. “Wanting to do the right thing but always having to compromise. It can’t be easy.”

“No,” I said. “His mother wants him to leave the police and go into politics.”

“Senator Sullivan. It has a certain ring to it, and he’d garner the Irish vote,” Sid said with a smile.

“Oh, and speaking of Daniel’s mother,” I went on, as I reached to put a slice of apple in front of Liam. “Daniel dropped another little bombshell as he was leaving. He’s been to Sloane’s and ordered a couple of beds so that his mother can come to stay immediately and help me hire another maid.”

“Perfectly sensible, given the circumstances,” Sid said.

“Whose side are you on?” I demanded.

“Nobody’s side, just seeing Daniel’s rationale in doing this. He knows you aren’t in any fit state to go to Sloane’s and buy beds yourself, so he’s saving you the trouble. And it would also make sense to have your mother-in-law around for a while as you get the house up and working again. You can’t go shopping at a department store with a wriggling baby on your hip. And we might not always be available to babysit. Gus has been asked to give a lecture on Professor Freud’s interpretation of dreams and the latest research in Vienna, so she’ll need to prepare for it.”

She leaned closer to me, lowering her voice. “Between ourselves I rather think she sees herself as an expert in diseases of the mind and hopes to be invited to lecture in more academic circles. Some of Dr. Freud’s colleagues in Vienna were clearly impressed by her forward-thinking, you know.”

“Wouldn’t she require some kind of academic credential before she could lecture at a university?”

“Oh, definitely. But where would she find anyone qualified to teach her over here, and who is likely to accept a woman to study as an alienist? If she ever tried to present a thesis it would most likely be rejected. Doctors in this country completely reject the notion that the inner workings of the mind can be unlocked through dreams.”

I thought privately that it was unlikely Gus would study long and hard enough to become a doctor of anything. Sid and Gus usually tired of their latest enthusiasm quite quickly. Wisely I kept quiet. Maybe she really did have a calling to become an alienist. She certainly had a lively enough mind for it.

“It’s a constant struggle for us women to be taken seriously, isn’t it?” Sid said, now speaking in a normal voice again as she put bread on the table. “Yet another state has rejected a woman’s right to vote even in local elections. It seems as if our suffrage movement is making no progress at all. I’ve been trying to get our suffrage sisters back into the saddle after the summer to plan our next campaign. The problem is that most women are either at the mercy of a husband or their family. If the family goes to Newport for the summer, they have to go along. I’ve been trying to round our group up and set them back to work. It’s like herding cats, Molly. They’re all in favor of the idea of women’s suffrage, but they can only dedicate themselves to it when it fits in with their social schedules.”

I recalled that Sid and Gus had abandoned the cause so that Gus could paint in Paris earlier this year and then so that Gus could study with Professor Freud in Vienna. Again I said nothing and nodded agreement as I spread butter on a slice of bread.

“It hasn’t been easy, Molly,” Sid said, aware of my silence.

“No, I’m sure it hasn’t been,” I said. I retrieved Liam’s apple and handed it back to him.

“Sometimes I feel that we’re going nowhere. Do you know there is even a thriving Anti-Suffrage League now?” Sid didn’t look up from slicing a loaf of bread. “Actively working to block our every move. Disgusting, I call it. Our movement will only succeed if we all dedicate ourselves to the cause, not when it suits us, but wholeheartedly. Anyway, I’ve finally managed to round up enough women to hold a meeting here tomorrow night. I hope you’ll attend if you feel up to it.”

“I fully intend to,” I said. “However much my husband is against the idea.”

“Most men are.” Sid sighed. “Many women too, unfortunately. They think we should allow ourselves to be guided by the superior intellect and worldly ways of our menfolk. Utter rot, of course. I’ll put my intellect and worldliness up against that of a man any day.” She looked up, realizing she was waving the bread knife in a dramatic manner and chuckled.

“How convenient that I’ll be here tomorrow night and not have to invent a reason to attend your meeting. However shortsighted Daniel can be, I don’t like to deceive him or go behind his back.” I paused, then added, “Even if he did go behind mine by inviting his mother and buying beds without consulting me.”

Gus joined us and we had a lively discussion over lunch on the frustrations of the suffrage movement and the shortsightedness of most men. Afterward Sid carried Liam upstairs for his nap and insisted I take one too.

“We’re going shopping this afternoon, Molly,” she said. “Is there anything we can get for you?”

“Nothing, thank you,” I replied. “Unless you’d like to pop into Wanamaker’s and buy linens for my house.”

“Of course. Give me the bed sizes and I’ll be happy to do it.”

“I was only joking, Sid,” I said. “Daniel told me to make a list and he’d have Wanamaker’s deliver. I’d rather like to have bed linens in place before his mother arrives or she’ll be buying what she wants.”