Murder in Murray Hill (Gaslight Mystery) by Victoria Thompson Read Free Book Online Page B

how Milo Pendergast had used the newspaper to lure young women and how he had recently taken Grace Livingston.
    “And what am I supposed to do about it? I run a newspaper. I can’t control what people do when they advertise.”
    Frank sat back in the comfortable leather chair provided for visitors and gazed out the large windows at the city below. “Well, now, Mr. Brisbane, I was going to suggest that if you got your staff to cooperate, I’d give you an exclusive on the story of how we rescued an innocent woman from the clutches of a fiend. But now I’m thinking you might not want anybody to know this Pendergast used your newspaper to kidnap young females.”
    “I most certainly would not! People would stop advertising with us altogether!”
    Frank nodded, hoping he looked thoughtful and not as angry as he felt. “I’m also thinking that every other newspaper in town
would
want that story. They’d probably run it on the front page, how this evil seducer of women used the
World
to trap his helpless victims but their editors wouldn’t lift a finger to help catch him.”
    Brisbane turned an unbecoming shade of purple. “You wouldn’t dare!”
    “I know lots of reporters, Mr. Brisbane. In fact, they camp out in the building right across from Police Headquarters every day. I could just shout out the window, and they’d all come running.”
    For a minute, Frank thought Brisbane might be choking on his own bile, but when he could speak again, he said, “What do you want me to do?”
    Less than an hour later, Frank left the imposing
World
building, confident that several of Brisbane’s most trusted editors would be spending their days in the advertising department to make sure no one noticed Milo Pendergast when he finally showed up to collect his mail. As a bonus, he had also extracted a promise that Maeve’s letter would be the only one found in Pendergast’s box whenever he did finally show up.
    Now all he had to do was wait.
    • • •
    F rank had no luck in the park, so he returned to Police Headquarters to report in and find something else to fill his time while he waited for Milo Pendergast to pick up his mail.
    Tom, the doorman at Police Headquarters, gave Frank an uncharacteristically stiff smile in response to his “Good morning.”
    “Is something wrong?” Frank asked.
    “Oh no, sir. Everything’s fine.” But he didn’t quite meet Frank’s eye.
    Still puzzled by Tom’s odd behavior, Frank strolled into the lobby. Ignoring the newly arrested felons on the benches lining the walls, he nodded to the desk sergeant and headed for the stairs.
    “Malloy!”
    Frank turned back to the desk sergeant. “What is it?”
    “Chief O’Brien wants to see you.”
    This was not an unusual request, but suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the very air in the room seemed to quiver with expectation. Frank glanced around and realized every cop within sight had stopped what he was doing to stare at him.
    They knew.
    Slowly, as eagerly as he would have climbed the scaffold steps to his own execution, Frank climbed the stairs to the second floor and the office of the chief of detectives. The cops he passed paused to watch him, their eyes guarded and mistrustful.
    They all knew.
    Finally, he reached the second floor. He knocked on O’Brien’s door, and a voice impatiently bid him enter.
    O’Brien looked up from the piles of papers on his desk and frowned. “Shut the door.”
    Frank did.
    “When were you going to tell me?”
    “Tell you what, sir?”
    O’Brien was a mild-mannered man, God-fearing and normally patient, but not today. “Don’t act stupid, Malloy. You’re many things, but you’re not stupid. The money. When were you going to tell me you’re a millionaire?”
    “I’m not a millionaire yet.” Without waiting to be asked, he gingerly sat down on the straight-backed chair in front of O’Brien’s desk.
    “What does that mean?”
    “It means I haven’t seen a cent of the