Chapter 15 #4
After picking up Joel, Francesca had Raoul drive them to the brothel where Rose lived and worked.
But Rose was not in. Instead, Francesca had interviewed the madam, Mrs. Delaney, and two of her girls.
Everyone agreed that Rose had become increasingly angry in the course of the past few months—and not just with Hart, but with Daisy.
Rose had changed, becoming sullen, hostile and withdrawn.
According to Mrs. Delaney, there had not been any reconciliation with Daisy.
However, no one believed her capable of murdering the woman she so loved.
Mrs. Delaney told her that Rose had said this morning that she was going to Daisy’s.
Now, as Raoul parked the carriage across the street from Daisy’s brick home, Francesca wondered if Rose could really be the murderer.
If she was, wouldn’t she avoid the scene of her gruesome crime?
But if she were innocent, being at Daisy’s might provide some comfort in her time of grief.
As Joel and Francesca began to step down from the carriage, Francesca saw the front door of Daisy’s house open.
Instantly she recognized the large, gray-haired man leaving.
She seized Joel’s arm, pulling him back inside the coach, in shock.
Brendan Farr, New York City’s chief of police, hurried to a small carriage that was waiting.
He climbed in and the carriage drove off.
What was Farr doing at Daisy’s? He might have been there on police business, but he was not an inspector—he had an entire police force to run.
Not only that, he had not been with any other police officers, and policemen rarely conducted their affairs alone.
Her instincts screamed at her. Something was amiss.
“Miz Cahill?” Joel was wide-eyed. “Wasn’t that the chief?”
She reached for his shoulder, her mind spinning.
“Yes, it was.” How calm she sounded. Had Farr been at Daisy’s to look for evidence?
If so, the fact that he was alone spoke volumes.
If he was on this case, he was clearly acting on his own.
She knew he despised her. She knew he was not loyal to Bragg.
She thought he was only loyal to himself, and possibly to his own select group of men.
Did he wish to crack the case himself? Did he want the glory, the fame?
Or did he hope to circumvent her? Hart was both Rick’s brother and her former fiancé.
He would be pleased, she thought, if Hart took the fall for Daisy’s murder.
But would he tamper with evidence? Hart had been framed. Francesca was uneasy. She had suspected Farr of criminal activities in prior investigations. She did not trust him and she knew he was ruthless. In this case, however, he had no motive for murdering Daisy.
She turned her gaze to Joel. “I am very suspicious,” she said.
He nodded. “Want me to tail him?”
It was a brilliant idea, but if Joel was caught, she would be afraid for his safety. “No. He’s a dangerous man, Joel. I’d worry what he might do if he ever found out that you were following him.”
“But he wouldn’t find out,” Joel said, his eyes dark with excitement.
“I can’t put you in that kind of danger,” Francesca said firmly. As they stepped onto the sidewalk, she tried to think of some other reason for his presence at Daisy’s. The more she debated the subject, the more she became convinced that he was up to no good—and that he was a threat to Hart.
Homer answered the door. “Good afternoon, Miss Cahill.” He seemed to have come to grips with his mistress’s murder and he let her in with a slight smile. “How may I help you?”
“Is Rose Cooper here, by any chance?” Francesca asked.
Homer nodded. “She is in the salon.”
Before he could lead her the short distance to the salon, Francesca restrained him. “Homer, what did Chief Farr want?”
“I don’t know, Miss Cahill, but he and Miss Cooper spoke for a few moments.”
Francesca rubbed her jaw. So he was investigating the case on his own! “Did he snoop about the house?”
“No.” Homer seemed surprised. “I believe he came here looking for Miss Cooper.”
Did he also suspect Rose? she wondered. “How long did they speak? Were you present?”
“He was only here for a few moments, perhaps five minutes, maybe ten. And I am sorry. They spoke behind closed doors. I didn’t hear anything.”
Francesca hesitated. “Homer, if he comes back, would you please tell me? And if he does, could you possibly, discreetly, eavesdrop?” She smiled sweetly at him.
Homer’s eyes were wide. “He is the chief of police,” he said in surprise.
“Yes, he is. But the department is terribly corrupt. I do not know why he is here. He is not an inspector. If Newman had come today, I would not be so dismayed.”
Homer nodded, appearing uneasy.
Francesca smiled reassuringly at him and he showed her to the salon doors. Although Rose was not the mistress of the house, Francesca waited while he knocked. Rose answered the door immediately.
Instantly, Francesca saw the dark circles under her eyes and the downward turn of her mouth.
Although she was beautifully dressed in a dark blue velvet suit, it was obvious that she had just been crying.
“Hello, Rose,” Francesca said softly, and she could not help but feel sorry once again for the other woman.
The truth was, she hoped Rose was not the killer. “Are you feeling any better?”
Tears filled Rose’s eyes. “I will never feel better,” she said. Then, her gaze flashed. “No, I will feel better when Hart is in prison for his crimes.”
Francesca decided not to argue about Hart’s guilt or innocence. “I am glad I found you. I have some new leads and I need to ask you some questions.”
“This is not a good time,” Rose said.
“Has something happened? Did Chief Farr upset you?”
Rose spoke in anguish. “Did you know? Did you know that Daisy was pregnant with Hart’s child?”
It took Francesca a moment to realize that Rose had not known about the pregnancy. And in the next instant, she realized that the discord between Daisy and Rose must have been even greater than she had thought, for Daisy not to have said a word. “I found out yesterday,” she said. “Farr told you?”
“Yes.” Rose wiped at the tears that were falling. “I am unbearably hurt.” She turned abruptly and walked back into the salon.
Francesca followed her inside. “Did you and Daisy reconcile at all?” She wanted Rose to admit that they had not, as Mrs. Delaney and her girls had said.
Rose whirled, weeping. “I had thought so. I had thought there was hope. I mean, we did spend some time together. She said I was her dear friend. I thought that when she got over Hart, things would return to the way they were. But she was planning on having his baby and she did not tell me!”
Francesca put her arm around her. It did not seem as if Daisy had remained in love with Rose. “You don’t know that things wouldn’t have returned back to normal, in time,” she said, trying to comfort her.
Rose gave her an angry glance and pulled away. “Daisy misled me, and not for the first time!”
Francesca saw her sudden, open anger. “How else did she mislead you?”
“Does it matter?”
“I want to help,” Francesca said, but in truth, she wanted to know if Rose had been angry enough to murder Daisy even though she hadn’t known about the child.
Rose sank down on the sofa. “We spent a few nights together and that was why I had hope. She would act as if nothing had happened between us, and then it was all about her scheming to get Hart back. There were times when I felt used, Francesca. I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself. Do you think she was using me?”
Francesca was beginning to wonder that herself. “I think she cared about you.”
“When she told me she was going to accept Hart’s offer and become his mistress, I begged her to reconsider.
I knew no good could come of it. She laughed.
She loved me then—she told me not to worry.
But within weeks, I was worried. Within weeks, Hart refused to allow me in this house, and she was happy!
Do you know what it is like to have your heart broken, not once, but many times, by the same person? ”
“No, I don’t. Did you share your feelings? Did you confront her?”
“Do I seem like the kind of woman who would keep my feelings to myself? Of course I told her how I felt, and we argued madly! We have been arguing for months.”
Francesca looked at the floor, her heart pounding.
Rose seized her arm, standing. “You are looking for evidence against me!”
“Rose, I don’t blame you for how you feel,” Francesca began, in the hopes of placating her.
“Get out!”
Francesca wished she had had more tact. “Rose, if you did not kill her, then the killer is out there. I found Daisy’s real family and I need to ask you some questions.”
“You found her family?” Rose seemed astonished.
Francesca told her about Judge Gillespie and his wife and daughter.
Rose sat down, staring at her lap. “She came from such a good family,” she whispered.
“And she left them to become a prostitute,” Francesca said. “Rose, I have to ask again. Please, are you certain she never alluded to her reasons for running away?”
“Never,” she said firmly. “The one time I tried to ask her, she made it very clear that if I ever raised the subject again, our friendship was over.” Rose finally glanced up, meeting Francesca’s eyes.
Francesca absorbed that. “Do you know anything about the twenty thousand dollars Daisy deposited in her bank account in May?”
Rose’s eyes widened. “She deposited twenty thousand dollars in her account?”
“Yes, she did. Do you have any idea how she got a hold of such a large sum?”
“No. I don’t. This is the first I have heard of it.” Rose became bitter. “So she was keeping another secret from me!”
Francesca noted how hostile toward Daisy Rose seemed. “Well, I certainly don’t think she was paid such a sum for her services,” Francesca said. “Someone was paying her off. The question is, why?”
“Paying her off?” It took her a moment to understand. “Well, we both know who had a motive.”
“The money did not come from Hart.” Francesca decided to change the topic. “I have one more question. What did Chief Farr want?”
“He wanted to ask me some questions,” she said, looking away. “He thinks I am involved—just as you do.”
Francesca felt certain that Rose was lying about Farr. “What kind of questions did he ask?”
Rose shrugged. “He wanted to know where I was that night. I told him what I told you—what I already told the police.”
“Is this the first time he questioned you?”
She hesitated. “Yes.”
She was lying again. “Why won’t you tell me the truth? I want to find Daisy’s killer, Rose, and you are making it very difficult for me!”
“I am telling you the truth. I never met Chief Farr before today,” Rose cried, standing. “And I didn’t like his questions, just like I don’t like him!”
Francesca sighed. “Very well. If you recall anything Daisy said, anything you did not understand, or anything that might relate to the investigation, please contact me.”
Rose nodded, clearly relieved that Francesca was leaving. Francesca entered the front hall, Rose remaining behind. Homer materialized and opened the door for her.
Francesca felt as if she were very close to solving the case, as if the answers she was seeking were right there in front of her.
She faced Homer with a smile, handing him one of her cards. “Please, do not hesitate to call me if you think of something that seems relevant to the case.”
“Miss Cahill? I couldn’t help overhearing. I think there is something you should know,” he said, surprising her.
“What is that?”
“You mentioned a Judge Gillespie.”
“Yes, I did. Why do you ask?”
He was eager. “Because Judge Gillespie was here, twice.”
“You mean today?”
He shook his head. “No. Last month. In May. He came to see Miss Jones.”