“The manager came out and—I presume—desired him to moderate his language as there were ladies present, whereupon he departed, I assume by way of the stairs.”
“The stairs? Not the elevators?”
“He turned to the right, and I happened to have noticed young Kevin sneaking out about his nefarious business a few minutes earlier,” said Miss Genevieve dryly.
Daisy laughed. “Pitt went up by the stairs, then. Heavens, look at the time. My husband will be back at his hotelby now. I must phone him and tell him I shan’t be taking the train tomorrow. Excuse me for running off, and thank you so much for the tea.”
Returning to her room, Daisy saw that a uniformed policeman had been stationed at the next door along the passage, the door to Carmody’s room. She wondered whether it had been searched already. Perhaps Gilligan was still busy with Thorwald and other possible witnesses at the Flatiron Building, such as the doormen. The sergeant might well want to search the victim’s room himself, for fear of turning up evidence incriminating his bosses at Tammany Hall.
While she waited for her telephone call to be put through, Daisy paced her room. She hardly dared think what Alec was going to say, but she simply could not fix her mind on anything else, even the burning question of who had killed Carmody.
It was twenty minutes before the switchboard rang back to say she was connected. Then Alec’s voice came through, crackling and scratchy but unmistakably Alec.
“Great Scott, Daisy, tell me it’s not true?”
“Darling, I couldn’thelpit!”
His sigh whistled down the wire. “I know, love. You’d better not talk about it. There’s no knowing who might be listening in. Just tell me, are you all right? You’re not too upset? The police didn’t threaten you with what they call the ‘third degree’? If they did, by God I’ll have their livers and lights!”
“No, no, darling, they were fairly polite. But this isn’t the moment to remind me of American police methods! Surely they wouldn’t use violent methods on a respectable married lady who has been utterly cooperative? Besides, mywatchdog was by my side most of the time. I’m going to have your super’s liver and lights when we get home!”
A laugh entered Alec’s voice. “So you’ve discovered Crane’s meddling, have you?”
“Alec, he didn’t tell you he was going to …”
“Great Scott, no, love. The gentleman I’m working with here told me, to reassure me that you wouldn’t run amok without me. Little did he know …”
“Don’t be beastly, darling. I do miss you. I wish you were here.”
“Oh, I shall be. I’m taking a train to New York tomorrow afternoon. Should be there by teatime. Hoover has exacted a promise from me to protect the New York police from you.”
“Horrid beast! But I’m glad you’re coming. I’ll meet you at the station. What time?”
The rest of their conversation was taken up with practical details followed by sweet nothings. After she had hung up the earpiece, Daisy sat for several minutes revelling in the glow left by the latter.
Then curiosity, her besetting sin, reasserted itself. She reached out determinedly for the bell to ring for the chambermaid. It was time to find out what Bridget had to tell about the late Otis Carmody.
7
“Come in, Bridget.” Daisy noted the girl’s weary stance. It was a busy time for her, and towards the end of a long workday. “Can you spare me a few minutes?”
“O’ course, ma’am. What can I do for you?”.
“Come and sit down. I would like to talk to you.”
“Oh, ma’am, I didn’t ought, but faith, I’ll be glad to get the weight off of me feet.” With a little sigh, Bridget sank into the easy chair Daisy indicated. She sat bolt upright, though, with her red, chapped hands folded neatly in her lap. “Is it Kevin you wanted to talk about, ma’am?” she asked anxiously. “He hasn’t been fresh, has he?”
“Fresh?”
“Saucy, ma‘am. Cheeky. ’Tis how they say it here.”
“Oh yes, he’s been ‘fresh,’ all right,” Daisy said, laughing, “but in such a friendly way I couldn’t possibly take offence. I like Kevin. Actually, I wondered whether you had spoken to the police yet.”
“Only to pass the time of day wi’ the bluecoat guarding Mr. Carmody’s door. Kevin says there was a detective went to the manager’s office and wrote down the name and addressof all the staff and residents. I wish they’d hurry up and get it over with. Sure and I might forget what I heard.”
Daisy knew an opportunity when she saw one. “Would it help to tell me, now?” she suggested. “Then it will be fresh in your mind. Fresh in the English sense.”
Bridget was eager to oblige. She never listened at doors, she was quick to explain, but she had been putting clean towels in Mr. Carmody’s bathroom. He knew she was there, but he hadn’t told her to leave, and she had not dared to creep out in the middle of the Donnybrook.
