“I’d like to know what it was all about.”
“So would we all,” Joseph said. “Unfortunately Brian kept us all in the dark, Mrs. McCreedy.”
“And it may have cost him his life,” Daniel said.
Mrs. McCreedy frowned at us. “What does he mean?” she asked.
“Nothing. We’ll go through to breakfast now,” Joseph said. “Come along, everyone.” He ushered them out of the room, like a large sheepdog rounding up sheep.
As we left the room I heard Mrs. McCreedy saying in a low voice to Chief Prescott, “If I were you, I’d find out more about those Sullivans and what they are really doing here.”
I grabbed Daniel’s arm and drew him into an alcove near the door. It was dark and half hidden by a velvet drape. Daniel looked at me as if I had gone crazy but I put my finger to my lips. The police chief and housekeeper were still standing just on the other side of that door. Daniel stifled a cough, pressing his handkerchief to his mouth.
“They’ve been acting peculiar and snooping around,” Mrs. McCreedy went on in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
“But you were expecting them? Your master did notify you that they were coming?”
“Well, yes. I got one letter from the master to say that the family was coming for a few days and to have everything ready for them, just like in the summer. And then a separate letter arrived to say that Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan would be occupying the guest cottage at the same time, so please make sure that it was well stocked and comfortable for them.”
“And it was written by Mr, Hannan?”
“Oh, no, sir. He very rarely wrote his own letters. It was written by a secretary. It said Alderman Hannan wishes me to inform you that … And I can’t say I recognized the signature.”
“So anybody could have written it,” Chief Prescott said.
“My thoughts exactly,” she muttered in a low voice. “I was waiting for the alderman to arrive to see what he’d have to say about the couple in the guest cottage. Clearly Mr. Joseph knew nothing about them and was quite upset, since he likes to stay there himself.”
“Interesting,” Chief Prescott said. “Thank you for letting me know about this, Mrs. McCreedy. I’ll certainly have my men look into it.”
And they came out into the hallway, walking right past us without seeing us standing half hidden in the shadows of the alcove.
“Bates,” Chief Prescott called out as he approached a constable standing at the far end of the hallway.
“Bates, I want you to send a telegram to the police headquarters in New York City,” he said. “The message should say, ‘Verify whereabouts of Captain Sullivan.’”
With that he and the constable went out through the front door. We waited until the sound of their footsteps on the gravel had receded before we emerged from our hiding place.
“The damned cheek,” Daniel exclaimed. “That trumped-up little popinjay, full of his own self-importance. Let him go ahead and solve his own case without help. The most challenging case he’s probably had until now is to locate a missing cat!” The words turned into a bout of coughing again and he stood there, holding on to me and gasping for breath.
“Daniel, you sound terrible,” I said. “You shouldn’t have come. Now back to bed with you and you’re not moving again today, whatever those rude people say.”
“Am I in for a lifetime of being dictated to?” he asked, attempting to make light of it.
“Only when it’s good for you. Now come along. I’m taking you back to the cottage.”
As we made our way down the long hall we heard the sound of voices coming from behind a half-open door, along with the chink of plates and scraping of chairs. The family was sitting down to breakfast.
And Joseph Hannan’s voice came clearly to us. “What were you thinking, opening your big mouth and making that suggestion that it could have been one of the family who pushed your uncle. Are you out of your mind?”
“It was
“So would we all,” Joseph said. “Unfortunately Brian kept us all in the dark, Mrs. McCreedy.”
“And it may have cost him his life,” Daniel said.
Mrs. McCreedy frowned at us. “What does he mean?” she asked.
“Nothing. We’ll go through to breakfast now,” Joseph said. “Come along, everyone.” He ushered them out of the room, like a large sheepdog rounding up sheep.
As we left the room I heard Mrs. McCreedy saying in a low voice to Chief Prescott, “If I were you, I’d find out more about those Sullivans and what they are really doing here.”
I grabbed Daniel’s arm and drew him into an alcove near the door. It was dark and half hidden by a velvet drape. Daniel looked at me as if I had gone crazy but I put my finger to my lips. The police chief and housekeeper were still standing just on the other side of that door. Daniel stifled a cough, pressing his handkerchief to his mouth.
“They’ve been acting peculiar and snooping around,” Mrs. McCreedy went on in a voice that was little more than a whisper.
“But you were expecting them? Your master did notify you that they were coming?”
“Well, yes. I got one letter from the master to say that the family was coming for a few days and to have everything ready for them, just like in the summer. And then a separate letter arrived to say that Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan would be occupying the guest cottage at the same time, so please make sure that it was well stocked and comfortable for them.”
“And it was written by Mr, Hannan?”
“Oh, no, sir. He very rarely wrote his own letters. It was written by a secretary. It said Alderman Hannan wishes me to inform you that … And I can’t say I recognized the signature.”
“So anybody could have written it,” Chief Prescott said.
“My thoughts exactly,” she muttered in a low voice. “I was waiting for the alderman to arrive to see what he’d have to say about the couple in the guest cottage. Clearly Mr. Joseph knew nothing about them and was quite upset, since he likes to stay there himself.”
“Interesting,” Chief Prescott said. “Thank you for letting me know about this, Mrs. McCreedy. I’ll certainly have my men look into it.”
And they came out into the hallway, walking right past us without seeing us standing half hidden in the shadows of the alcove.
“Bates,” Chief Prescott called out as he approached a constable standing at the far end of the hallway.
“Bates, I want you to send a telegram to the police headquarters in New York City,” he said. “The message should say, ‘Verify whereabouts of Captain Sullivan.’”
With that he and the constable went out through the front door. We waited until the sound of their footsteps on the gravel had receded before we emerged from our hiding place.
“The damned cheek,” Daniel exclaimed. “That trumped-up little popinjay, full of his own self-importance. Let him go ahead and solve his own case without help. The most challenging case he’s probably had until now is to locate a missing cat!” The words turned into a bout of coughing again and he stood there, holding on to me and gasping for breath.
“Daniel, you sound terrible,” I said. “You shouldn’t have come. Now back to bed with you and you’re not moving again today, whatever those rude people say.”
“Am I in for a lifetime of being dictated to?” he asked, attempting to make light of it.
“Only when it’s good for you. Now come along. I’m taking you back to the cottage.”
As we made our way down the long hall we heard the sound of voices coming from behind a half-open door, along with the chink of plates and scraping of chairs. The family was sitting down to breakfast.
And Joseph Hannan’s voice came clearly to us. “What were you thinking, opening your big mouth and making that suggestion that it could have been one of the family who pushed your uncle. Are you out of your mind?”
“It was
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