A New York Christmas by Anne Perry Read Free Book Online Page B

realized how much the whole affair had distressed her. She had expected an unpleasant scene, but not death; certainly not violence, blood, then the police. And now there was the fear that she would not be able to protect Phinnie froma grief, or at least a shock, that would deeply overshadow all happiness at the prospect of her upcoming wedding day.
    Harley pushed open the apartment door. The latch was broken and had not locked behind them.
    “Did you find it like this, sir?” Flannery asked.
    “Yes. Miss Pitt was already inside. I told you.”
    Flannery turned to Jemima, his black eyebrows raised.
    Jemima felt a prickle of fear. “Yes. It was open when I pushed it.”
    “So you went in?”
    “Yes.”
    Flannery looked unhappy. “Did you know Mrs. Cardew?”
    “No. But I’ve known her daughter, Delphinia Cardew, for …” It was not so very long, but she must finish the train of thought. “I am here with her for the wedding, to look after her until then. She is only nineteen. Her father is ill and cannot travel. She is … estranged from Mrs. Cardew. She has no one else … except the Albright family, of course.” Was she talking too much and making it even worse?
    “So you were trying to bring about a reconciliation with her mother?” Flannery looked dubious. This was plainly at odds with what Harley had implied.
    “No. I wished to persuade Mrs. Cardew …” She realized with horror what she was about to say, and how it would sound.
    “Not to appear at the wedding and cause distress and embarrassment,” Harley finished for her.
    Flannery shot him a sharp look that was close to dislike, then turned back to Jemima.
    “Is that correct, Miss Pitt?” he said gently.
    There was no escape.
    “Yes.” Her voice was hollow, as if she had no air in her lungs. “We hoped she would realize that it would be far better, if she wished to meet with Phinnie again, to do it privately.” Should she add that Harley had been willing to pay her not to cause a scandal? No. It sounded desperate.
    Flannery nodded, then led the way to the bedroom. The dead woman was lying on the bed exactly as Jemima had left her, the sheet still pulled back to expose the terrible wound. She heard Flannery’s sharp intake of breath. He must have seen dead bodies before, but therewas something horribly tragic about this elderly woman, so frail-looking, perhaps even dying anyway, who lay alone, soaked in her own blood, her graying hair spread across the pillow, her features etched with pain.
    Flannery looked at her closely without touching her, except to place one strong hand briefly on her pulse point. He must have felt that she was still warm. He turned to Jemima, his face filled with pity.
    “Did you see any weapon, Miss Pitt? Did you move it?”
    “No! Of course not!”
    “It would be a natural thing to do.”
    “My father is a policeman, Officer Flannery. In fact, he is head of Special Branch in England. I know better than to move a weapon from the scene of a death.”
    He looked grim. “So you know quite a lot about crime?”
    Another mistake. “No!” she said hotly. “Only what I have overheard now and then. But if you think about it, it’s common sense.” She must stop talking, stop telling him too much. She sounded guilty, when really she was only grieved and afraid for Phinnie.
    “I see,” he acknowledged. He appeared increasinglyunhappy. He looked back at Harley. “You said, sir, that you arrived here later than Miss Pitt and found her standing beside the body, which you identified as that of Mrs. Maria Cardew.”
    “Yes,” Harley answered quietly. “I’m sorry, but that is so.”
    “Where were you, sir?” Flannery met his eyes squarely.
    “I didn’t see anyone come in here, if that’s what you mean?” Harley replied.
    “It’s part of what I mean. If you weren’t in the street outside, where were you?” Flannery insisted.
    “Someone stopped me to ask directions, and I ended up having to take them part of