Murder on Amsterdam Avenue by Victoria Thompson Page A

behind her.
    Hannah looked much as she had yesterday. Her dress was black and her light brown hair was tucked severely into a bun, although she had a fringe of curls around her face to soften the look.
    â€œI remember you,” she said without bothering to greet him. “You were at the funeral with Mrs. Brandt.”
    â€œYes.” He felt no need to explain his relationship with Sarah.
    She frowned, crinkling up her nose in a way that she must have practiced in front of a mirror to be sure she still looked appealing. He’d dealt with women like her before. Everythingthey did was for effect. But in a world where a woman’s very survival could depend on attracting a man to support her, he supposed she was justified.
    â€œWon’t you sit down?” he asked, indicating the second of a pair of armchairs that sat in front of the fireplace.
    She took the offered chair without comment, perching on the edge as if she didn’t want to get too comfortable or wanted to be able to escape quickly. Her back ramrod straight, she stared at him with a smug expression that almost looked defiant.
    â€œI suppose Father Oakes told you that I know who killed Charles,” she said as Frank sat down in the other chair.
    â€œHe told me you thought you did, yes.”
    â€œOh, I know. I’m sure of it.”
    â€œAnd who do you think it is?”
    â€œThat new girl, Daisy. I knew she was trouble the minute I saw her. She’s insolent. She looks me right in the eye, bold as you please, whenever I speak to her.”
    â€œThis Daisy, she’s one of the maids?”
    â€œYes, I suppose. I don’t know what she does exactly. I’ve never seen her doing any work, but I suppose she must. That’s what servants do, isn’t it?”
    Frank didn’t bother to answer her. “She’s new, you say?” So much for Gerald Oakes’s claim that all the servants had been with them for years.
    â€œYes. I don’t know how long she’s been here. No one consults me about anything, least of all the hiring of staff, but it hasn’t been long.”
    â€œAnd what makes you think she killed Charles?”
    â€œWell, it has to be her, doesn’t it? She’s new.”
    This was interesting reasoning, probably the same kind Oakes himself would have used if he’d realized they had a new servant. “Do you mind answering a few questions forme, so I can get an idea of exactly what happened to your husband?”
    She stiffened even more, although he would’ve thought that impossible. “I’m sure I don’t know anything that will help.”
    â€œYou might know something you don’t realize you know. You do want to help us find out who poisoned Charles, don’t you?”
    She wrinkled her nose again. “I’m not sure that I do.”
    â€œWhy not?” Frank asked, trying not to sound as shocked as he felt. Even if she herself was the killer, surely she would at least pretend an interest in getting justice for her husband.
    â€œBecause I don’t want my name in every newspaper in town. I’ve seen what happens when there’s a sensational crime and the newspapers start reporting on it. It’s the females who always get the worst of it, too. The female is always portrayed as some immoral Jezebel who lured some poor man to his doom or seduced some poor man to murder his rival.”
    Unfortunately, she was absolutely correct. “That’s exactly why Mr. Oakes asked me to investigate, though. He wants to keep this out of the newspapers.”
    â€œYou’ll forgive me if I don’t trust you, Mr. . . .”
    â€œMalloy,” he supplied.
    â€œMr. Malloy. If someone is tried for Charles’s murder, it will be reported in the newspapers, and as Charles’s wife, I will most likely be portrayed unfairly and my reputation ruined.”
    â€œWould you rather see your husband’s killer go