Chapter 18 #2
“Well, that is my first thought. If Rose was with Farr that night, then she is not our killer. But I have another notion.” Francesca had done nothing but think about Brendan Farr’s involvement in the case and crime last night.
When Hart had left her, she had made copious notes, and in the end, she had drawn the same two conclusions.
“Either Farr was with Rose and she had a solid alibi, meaning she is no longer a suspect, or he and Rose are involved in the murder together.”
“Francesca!” Bragg exclaimed. “That is a huge accusation to make.”
“I knew you would react that way. But Farr hates me. He has hated me from the moment we met. I have never discovered why. I have no doubt he would love to hurt us both by seeing Calder take the fall for Daisy’s murder. And why didn’t he come forward to tell us he was with Rose that night?”
“His silence is suspicious, but he might want to avoid a besmirched reputation—just like Gillespie.”
“He isn’t married. Who would care if he frequents a prostitute?”
“You know the press would make a cause célèbre out of it. I probably would have to dismiss him,” Bragg said pointedly.
“Are you going to call him in? We need to ask him about this, Rick.”
Bragg studied her and she stared back. “Of course. Do you want to look over that report on the knife while I get him?”
Francesca smiled then. “I would love to.”
He handed her the folder, his gaze suspicious. “You are in very good spirits today, all things considering.”
“Calder was framed, and if Rose is not our killer, then we will merely have to keep looking.”
“That is not what I meant, exactly.” He regarded closely.
“I am feeling much better,” she admitted. She had weathered this latest new development with Hart and intended to embrace the future in any way it chose to come at them.
He stared. “You have reconciled with Hart.”
She met his gaze.” Not exactly. But I realized that he has to do this—he feels compelled to protect me. I can understand that now. And I also realized that we do not need an official relationship to remain committed to one another.”
Bragg flushed. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said tersely.
“I think that I do. But I am certainly not abandoning Hart.”
“So what happens now? You will be his lover, with no commitment on his part? How fortunate he must feel!”
“If I am his lover, that is not your concern, Rick. I must tell you, you are misjudging Calder once again. And given that he has just gone out of his way to lend you a significant sum to pay off O’Donnell, I think you owe him the benefit of the doubt.”
Bragg looked apoplectic. “I’d rather see you engaged than carrying on with him. I don’t like this.”
“I am sorry you feel that way,” Francesca said. She meant it, but she was disturbed that he was so judgmental. “I think you have crossed the line, Rick. My private life is just that—private.”
“Then do not speak so openly of it!” he snapped. Abruptly, he strode out to get the chief.
Francesca sat down with the file, sighing. How complicated the most important relationships in her life were. Then she opened the file and read exactly what Bragg had already told her.
Bragg entered the office with Farr. His eyes slid over Francesca and he greeted her in a civil tone. “Good morning, Miss Cahill.”
“Chief,” she said coolly, standing and closing the file. She looked at Bragg.
“Chief, take a seat.”
Without any emotion flickering in his gray eyes, Farr bent his long frame into the chair beside Francesca. Bragg went to stand behind his desk but he did not sit. “I have a source that tells me you have been involved with Rose Cooper. Is it true?”
Farr’s looked at Francesca with real distaste. “Let me guess. Miz Cahill’s been snooping?”
Francesca smiled but her temper soared. “You were seen with her in an intimate embrace. Will you deny it?”
Farr’s cheeks turned red. “If I want to see a whore, I think that’s my own business.”
Before Francesca could rebut, Bragg said, “I disagree. We both know the press would take a liaison like this and blow it all over the news pages, until I dismiss you or you are forced to resign. You’re no staff sergeant—you run this entire force.”
Farr bared his teeth. “Then maybe we should keep a lid on this, don’t you think?”
Francesca could not contain herself. She leapt to her feet.
“Were you with Rose the night of Daisy’s murder?
Are you the man she was entertaining? Because if she has an alibi for the time of the murder, we have been wasting our time considering her as a suspect.
If that is the case, Chief, you have withheld information crucial to an official police investigation! ”
He was on his feet, towering over her. “Don’t you dare tell me about police rules and investigations!
For some damned reason, the boss lets you in here like you own the station.
But you’re no copper—you’re a little woman who fancies herself an investigator.
I’ve known Rose and Daisy for years. I’ve been in both their beds!
Yes, yesterday I took myself a little piece of action.
But I was not with her the night of Daisy’s murder.
Why don’t you check the logs? I worked late that night, right here at headquarters. ”
Francesca was cowed, and she knew she had turned white, but her mind sped. Rose remained a suspect, but could Farr be put on that list now, as well? He had known Daisy for years. He had been one of her clients. “When was the last time you availed yourself of Daisy’s services?”
“You mean, when was the last time I was in her bed? Not since the New Year. She was always hard to book and then she went exclusive with your fiancé—oh, excuse me, your ex-fiancé. I forgot, Hart dumped you.”
“Chief, you need to change your tone,” Bragg warned.
Farr looked at him, his eyes sparking. “She shouldn’t be here and she shouldn’t stick her nose in our business! We got our own inspectors and they’re good men.”
“Francesca has been privately hired to investigate, and I for one am pleased that she works with us. The more minds, the better.”
“If you say so,” Farr said, clearly struggling for his composure. He faced Francesca with a cold smile. “Sorry if I got rude or crude. In the old days, little girls did not dress up and act like the boys.” He glanced at Bragg. “You want me to sign an official statement?”
“I don’t think we need one. And I’ll try to keep a lid on this,” Bragg said. “Thank you, Chief.”
Farr grunted and strode out.
Francesca collapsed in her chair. “What an odious man!”
Francesca sat alone in the conference room with a cup of bitter coffee, a notepad in front of her.
Two officers had been sent over to the Fifth Avenue Hotel to bring Gillespie in, but she hardly needed to make notes to know what she wished to ask him.
Her mind kept veering back to the interview with Farr, and a shudder of revulsion swept her.
With no information on Rose’s supposed alibi, she finally asked herself if she seriously thought Rose guilty of murder.
Rose had loved Daisy so much. No matter how angry she had been about being rejected, Francesca could not imagine the other woman killing her best friend and lover. Such a heinous act would have had to have been committed in such a fit of rage as to temporarily make Rose insane.
She had no real reason to suspect Farr, but she had little doubt he could take a human life.
Maybe that wasn’t fair, but if he wasn’t involved, then why hadn’t he come forward to admit to his prior relationship with Daisy?
Unfortunately, there was a simple answer—he wished to avoid being associated with her, just like the judge.
“Francesca?” her father asked softly from the door.
Francesca leapt to her feet, stunned to see Andrew standing there. He looked uncertain and very weary. “Papa! What are you doing here?” she cried, filling with hope.
“I had hoped to find you at your sister’s, Francesca, but by the time I got there, you had already left. An officer downstairs told me you were here. May I come in?”
“Of course.” Francesca wrung her hands. She had missed Andrew terribly, and seeing him now made her realize that.
He smiled gently at her and stepped into the room. Automatically, Francesca went to him and they embraced as if nothing were wrong. She then straightened his dark blue tie. “You seem tired, Papa.”
“I am very tired,” he said. “How can I sleep when you have left the house? Francesca, I was at an important supper last night for the Citizen’s Union—we are planning our next electoral campaign.
I got home after midnight, but your mother was still up and she told me what happened. Are you all right?”
“I am fine,” she assured him, smiling. “It was just a tap on the head. Someone does not want me following a certain lead. Have you heard? Hart was falsely arrested because he was framed.”
“I hadn’t heard, but I am happy for you. Did you see the morning’s papers?”
Francesca tensed with dread. “No.”
“The fact that Miss Jones was Judge Gillespie’s daughter is all over the news.”
For one moment, Francesca had been afraid that the fact that Daisy had been with child at the time of her murder had made headlines. She sighed with relief. “Papa, Hart is innocent.”
“I never said I thought him capable of murder!” Andrew exclaimed. “But the scandal has begun in earnest. He was actually a topic of discussion last night. Everyone wanted my opinion on the affair, due to your involvement with him.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said that he is innocent and I changed the subject. Did he end the engagement, Francesca?” Andrew asked, gently. “I read that press release, too.”
“Yes, he did. You see, he is noble, Papa. He insists on sparing me from scandal.”
Andrew pulled her into his arms. “And you will still defend him, won’t you? No matter what?”
“Of course. Nothing has really changed, except for a formality. I still love him, and he still loves me.”