Free Murder on Amsterdam Avenue by Victoria Thompson

“What are they doing here?”
    â€œThey said they know Charles because they got him the job at the Asylum.”
    â€œThat’s how things work, of course, but how would Charles know people like that in the first place?”
    â€œAnd why have they come here?” Mrs. Decker asked with a worried frown.
    â€œThey said just to pay their respects,” Frank said.
    â€œDo you believe them?” Sarah asked.
    â€œOf course not, but I don’t think they’re here to cause trouble either. It wouldn’t do them any good to make trouble for a socially prominent family.”
    â€œThen why else would they be here?” Sarah asked.
    Frank frowned. “I think they might be waiting for somebody. Watch the way they look up every time somebody comes in.”
    â€œWho could they be waiting for?” Mr. Decker asked.
    â€œI guess we’ll find out if that person shows up.”
    â€œAnd in the meantime, we should find seats because the service is going to start soon,” Mrs. Decker said.
    â€œHave you seen Gino and Maeve?” Frank asked Sarah as they moved toward the back row of the chairs that had been set up in the center of the room.
    â€œNot yet, but you told them to wait outside until the last minute so they could watch everyone who arrived. They should come in soon, though.”
    Sure enough, they had just taken their seats when Gino and Maeve arrived. They looked exactly right in their cheap finery, gawking like rubes. That part had been Maeve’s idea. They’d come to honor Mr. Oakes, who had been such a kind superintendent, but they weren’t quite sure how to act in a big house like this. Maeve clung to Gino’s arm for dear life. If Frank hadn’t known better, he would have been sure she was terrified to find herself in such a fancy place. Not for the first time, Frank thought how fortunate Sarah had been to hire a nanny who had been raised by a confident man.
    The two young people took seats on the opposite end of the last row of chairs and never so much as glanced at Frank and Sarah. Mrs. Decker looked over at them in surprise. “Isn’t that—?”
    â€œShhh, Mother,” Sarah whispered.
    The rest of the group had found their seats, and the family now filed in to sit in the front row. Frank studied the wife, who came first. She looked suitably bereaved, although her eyes showed no sign of prolonged weeping. She’d understand that even if she secretly rejoiced that her husband was dead, she shouldn’t show anything except grief on this occasion. He was looking forward to talking to her, and hoped he would have the opportunity. Men like Gerald Oakes sometimes tried to protect females from the ugliness of murder, but since Sarah already suspected her of being the killer, Frank couldn’t let her off easy.
    Next came Gerald and his wife. She also seemed to be bearing up pretty well, her still-beautiful face a frozen mask hiding whatever her true feelings were. For his part, Gerald looked terrible, his face splotchy and haggard. He, at least, had been weeping for his lost child.
    Behind them came an elderly woman Frank hadn’t seen before. She hadn’t been greeting guests as they arrived. This must be Gerald’s mother. She walked with a cane and leaned on the arm of a male servant until she reached her seat, although she didn’t seem particularly unsteady on her feet.
    As soon as the family was seated, the minister stood up and took his place behind a podium that had been set near the casket.
    He welcomed them and said a few platitudes about the tragedy of Charles’s death, and then he said, “Let us pray.” Almost everyone bowed their heads. Frank and Sarah did not, and when he glanced over, he saw Gino and Maeve were also looking around. Interestingly, Virgil Adderly and his companions had also kept their heads raised and their eyes open.
    Frank only had a second to register this when a