Free Murder on Gramercy Park by Victoria Thompson Page B

any jury in the world convicting a woman with a baby in her arms. That’s even if her father allowed it to get that far. I can’t believe he would.”
    “Who is her father?”
    “His name is Symington.”
    “Maurice Symington?” she asked with a frown.
    “Probably. Do you know him?”
    “I’ve heard of him, and my father knows him, I’m sure. I think he made his money in manufacturing.”
    “You mean he owns sweatshops?”
    “That’s exactly what I mean. I’m surprised he allowed his daughter to marry so far beneath her, unless Dr. Blackwell comes from money, too.”
    “He doesn’st,” Frank said.
    “Well, then,” she said, as if that proved everything. “Now I’m really surprised the father allowed her to appear at Dr. Blackwell’s lectures. Such a public display would surely be offensive to him.”
    “I figured the same thing. Do you think Blackwell had something on the old man?”
    “Looking for blackmail as a motive, Malloy?” she teased: “Sorry to disappoint you, but Mrs. Blackwell said they just felt they owed Blackwell a huge debt after what he did for her. He wouldn’t even accept payment for treating her, and every other doctor had completely given up on helping her. It seems reasonable they would feel deeply grateful and obligated.”
    “Maybe,” was all he would allow. Something about this case bothered him. Probably it was the idea that the man might have been done in by his own son. Frank found that very unsettling. He certainly didn’t want to hear that the wife had done it instead, an even more unsettling idea.
    “Or maybe she had a lover who took matters into his own hands,” she suggested. “He would have the same motive as she, but he’d also have the will and the nerve to actually kill Dr. Blackwell.”
    “Do women of her class usually take lovers?” he asked, ashamed to admit that she might actually have come up with a good possibility. He hadn’t yet seen Mrs. Blackwell, so he couldn’t judge her character.
    She considered this for a moment. “No, they don’t. In fact, a woman from that class in society who is known to have taken a lover becomes a social outcast. It’s simply too dangerous to risk.”
    Frank gave her a murderous frown for getting his hopes up, but she simply shrugged apologetically.
    “All right, Malloy, you told me you’d have the killer locked up yesterday. If Mrs. Blackwell and her imaginary lover didn’t do it, who did? That harmless little man, Mr. Potter?” she asked sarcastically.
    “Never assume anyone is innocent, Mrs. Brandt. That’s the best way to end up looking foolish.”
    She opened her mouth to say something that was probably outrageous, when someone knocked on the door, distracting them both.
    “Yes?” Frank called.
    The parlor doors opened, and Amos Potter stepped in. “Excuse me, but I was wondering how Mrs. Blackwell is doing.”
    Sarah Brandt smiled sweetly, probably thinking Potter was merely a concerned friend of the family. Frank had a feeling Potter’s interest in Mrs. Blackwell was more than just friendly, however. He was just too solicitous.
    “Mrs. Blackwell is just fine,” Sarah said, “although she’s very tired and has asked not to be disturbed anymore today.”
    “Oh, I wasn’t planning on disturbing her,” he hastily assured her. “I’m sure I wouldn’t dream of ... I mean, well, I did want to let her know the plans for Edmund’s funeral, of course. We must have some sort of wake. He has many admirers, and his patients will want to pay tribute to him for all he’s done.”
    “When were you planning to have the funeral?” Frank inquired, thinking this would be a good opportunity to look at all of Blackwell’s acquaintances at once. The person who killed him would most likely be among them, unless his son really was the killer. In that case, Calvin Brown wouldn’t very likely be in attendance since he would probably be a thousand miles away by now.
    “I thought we’d have it tomorrow, since