Authors: Rhys Bowen

Hush Now, Don’t You Cry (37 page)

“Your mind is as diseased as this child’s,” Patrick Hannan said. “I don’t know exactly who you are but your meddling is causing this family great distress.” He glanced up at the policemen who were now making their way across the lawn toward us. “Officers, this woman is mad. Please remove her.”

“It’s no use, Father Patrick,” I said. “I went to Brian Hannan’s office, you see, and I saw what he had written. He had figured out for himself why your bishop moved you from parish to parish so frequently.” I stared at him defiantly. “That’s why you had to kill your brother, wasn’t it? You had to kill him before he revealed what he had found out to the rest of the family and had you put away.”

“He told me he’d spoken to my bishop,” Patrick said, “When he said he was calling the family together to decide what to do with me, I had to stop him. We’d used that cyanide on a wasps’ nest last summer. I met him and told him I wanted to talk privately first. And I offered him a drink.”

The family members stood there, staring with expressions of horror and disbelief. Archie Van Horn was the first to move. “You killed my daughter?” he shouted. “You killed Colleen?” He started toward the priest, his eyes blazing.

“I didn’t mean to, I swear.” Patrick stepped back, almost sobbing now. “She was like a little angel. I just wanted to touch her, to hold her in my arms. But she started to scream and I put my hand over her face, and when I took it away she was dead. I didn’t know what to do…” He looked around from one face to the next, hoping for understanding, I suppose. “I must have panicked. The cliff was right there. I pushed her body over, hoping to make it seem like an accident. I didn’t think anybody would see.”

“But Kathleen saw, didn’t she?” I demanded. “And the shock drove her mad.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “I didn’t mean…”

“And what about those other little girls?” I demanded as he stood with his face in his hands, shaking. “Didn’t you mean to kill them either?”

He looked up at me then, his face surprisingly innocent and serene. “Oh, yes, I ended their lives quite deliberately. I realized when I had killed Colleen that I had done her a service. She was a little angel and I had made sure she’d gone straight to Heaven, uncorrupted by the world.” He looked around us for understanding. “They were all little angels, you see. Beautiful children. Uncorrupted. I was just making sure they went straight to Heaven, before they could be sullied by the world. I was helping them.”

I realized then that he wasn’t sane. Out of the corner of my eye I saw two policemen closing in on him. Suddenly Patrick’s demeanor changed. He darted forward, grabbed at Kathleen, and pushed her in front of him. She gave a whimper of terror as his hand came around her throat.

“Stand back!” he shouted. “If you come any closer, I’ll throw her over the cliff.”

“Don’t do this,” I pleaded. “It can’t help you in any way. Think of all those years you spent as a priest. Think of all the good you’ve done. You’re essentially a good man, I’m sure you are. You don’t want to harm her.”

“It doesn’t matter any longer,” he said calmly. “You can only go to Hell once and I condemned myself to that fate when I killed Colleen.”

I tried to think what I could say to reason with him. Two of the policemen were still attempting to inch toward us. Patrick Hannan dragged Kathleen until they were poised at the very edge of the cliff. “I said stay away or down she goes. Get back with the others and don’t attempt to stop me. I’m taking her with me.”

The position in which he held her left us no chance to tackle him.

“It’s no use, Father,” one of the policemen said. “You can’t get away. The place is surrounded with our men. Now let the little girl go and give yourself up. Don’t bring disgrace to the Holy Church.”

I didn’t think they were handling this too well. Patrick Hannan’s expression became wilder. His eyes darted nervously.

“Give myself up to a filthy jail?” Patrick demanded, his voice now high and tight again. “Or to the electric chair? Never.” He started to drag Kathleen along the cliff edge, making for the stand of pine trees. Kathleen coughed and choked as his arm wrapped tightly around her neck.

“You’re choking her!” Gus shouted. “Let go of her neck.”

He released his hold and she stood there, coughing, her hand at her throat. Before we could do anything she turned and hurled herself at him, uttering a dreadful, unearthly cry. Kathleen’s head hit her uncle square in his stomach knocking him backward. He gave a gasp as the air went out of him and they both went over the cliff together.

Thirty-nine

There was a gasp of horror from those who stood watching helplessly. I believe I screamed. Then from the crowd there was a loud cry of “No! Not Kathleen!” And Irene Van Horn rushed toward the edge of the cliff.

Father Patrick Hannan was lying on the rocks, eyes open and staring up at us while a river of blood flowed from his shattered head to mingle with the water in the rock pools. Kathleen lay lifeless on top of him.

“Oh, no. Kathleen, my little girl!” Irene wailed as one of the policemen grabbed her arm before she too went over the edge. At the sound of her mother’s voice Kathleen stirred and tried to sit up. “Mama?” she called plaintively.

Archie, Terrence, and the policemen were already slithering down the cliff nearby to reach her.

“Careful, sir,” one of the policemen warned as Archie went to scoop her up into his arms. “She may be badly injured. You should wait for a stretcher.”

Archie and Terrence were on their knees beside the little girl.

“Does it hurt you to move, sweetheart?” Archie asked. “Are you badly hurt?”

Kathleen looked at him with wonder. “Papa?” she said.

A makeshift stretcher was brought down from the house and she was carried up to safety. Remarkably she only suffered a cut knee. Her great uncle had broken her fall. And more remarkably, she began speaking again. Hesitantly at first, but it was as if the great weight she had carried for eight years had been taken from her shoulders. And now that the family knew the truth and the terrible injustice that she had suffered, they couldn’t do enough for her.

I found myself alone as they carried Kathleen back to the house. Suddenly I wanted to feel Daniel’s arms around me. I made my way back to the cottage. Daniel was sitting up in the chair in the bedroom. He looked up expectantly when I came in.

“What was all that commotion about? I heard shouting and screaming. What was it?”

“Patrick Hannan. The priest. Kathleen’s memory returned and she recognized him as the man who killed her sister and threw her body over the cliff,” I said.

“The priest. Well I never.” He said. “And to think I missed out on all the excitement. You were there, you lucky devil. Come and sit beside me and tell me all the details.”

His jovial tone was too much for me. “It wasn’t funny,” I retorted angrily. “How can you be so callous? This was a horrible man who killed little girls and…” my voice cracked, “and he grabbed Kathleen and threatened to hurl her over the cliff. Then Kathleen threw herself at him and they both went over.”

And to my embarrassment I burst into tears. Immediately Daniel had enveloped me in his arms. “It’s all right. You’re safe now. I’ve got you,” he murmured. “Are they both dead, Patrick and the little girl?”

“He is. She landed on top of him and he broke her fall. Only justice really for what he did to her sister,” I said, swallowing back my sobs.

“And how did they find out he killed her sister?”

“I did a little investigating of my own. I found out why Brian Hannan invited us here.”

“I might have known,” he said. “You never can leave well enough alone, can you? You get yourself involved and then you wind up in trouble.”

“I solved your case, Daniel Sullivan,” I said as anger replaced tears. “I found that Patrick Hannan had been quietly killing little girls in each of his parishes. Brian Hannan discovered that too, and that was why Patrick had to kill him.”

Daniel took my face in his hands. “Molly, what am I going to do with you?” he asked tenderly. “How can I make you behave like a normal wife and leave investigating to those whose job it is?”

“You weren’t able to do it,” I said. “And Chief Prescott certainly wasn’t up to it. Somebody had to find the truth before poor little Kathleen was blamed for these murders too and shipped off to an insane asylum.”

“So you did it.”

“Yes,” I said, as I realized with pride what I had accomplished. “Yes, I did.”

* * *

So Kathleen was restored to the bosom of her family. At my suggestion Dr. Birnbaum was summoned and suggested that her introduction to normal life be a gradual process. So a trained nurse was hired and Gus volunteered to be with Kathleen during the first difficult weeks. She was very proud of what she had accomplished.

“I was telling Sid that maybe I should go to Vienna and study with Professor Freud, so that I could work with traumatized children,” she said.

“That would be wonderful,” I agreed, “but I’d miss you.”

Gus shook her head. “Sid doesn’t want to go. She says there is so much to be done in New York and she doesn’t really like Austrian food. So I’ll content myself with being Kathleen’s protector and guide.”

“And you will write that paper on the language of twins to read at Vassar,” I reminded her.

“Yes, of course I’ll do that.” She looked quite excited.

The next day I went out to return the portrait to Ned Turnbull and recounted the events of the afternoon to him. “So she’s going to be all right, is she?”

“I hope she will, Ned,” I said. “Her grandfather left a lot of money for her care and I understand that Irene and Archie want her to come home to them.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I suppose that is for the best.”

I handed him the painting. He looked up at me. “Give it back to Irene,” he said. “I think she’ll want to remember her daughter now.”

* * *

As we packed up to leave Irene herself came to visit me at the cottage. “You gave me back my daughter,” she said. “I can never thank you enough.”

“I’m glad I could help.” I smiled at her because I could see she was struggling to tell me more.

“I behaved so badly,” she said at last. “I wanted to believe that Kathleen killed her sister, because then I couldn’t have prevented it, even if I’d been where I was supposed to be. I couldn’t bear to see her because she reminded me of what a rotten mother I’d been and how much I loved Colleen … how I loved Colleen better than her.”

“I do understand,” I said. “And I know why you felt so guilty.”

She looked up sharply. “Of course. The portrait. Ned told you?”

“No. I guessed.”

She sighed. “My father forced me to make a good marriage, you know. But Ned and I—you can’t just stop loving someone, can you?” Then she smoothed down her lovely silk gown and got to her feet. “I’m going to make it up to my daughter. The doctor says she can lead a perfectly normal life in time. It will be fun bringing her out into society. She’s a pretty girl, isn’t she? Who would have thought she’d turn out so pretty?” And she left.

As Kathleen’s speech returned she was able to tell us the truth about what happened to Mrs. McCreedy. She had watched Patrick as Mrs. McCreedy spotted the open trapdoor. She had watched as he crept up behind the caretaker and then given her a mighty shove to her death. Kathleen had rushed back to hide under her bed and Father Patrick had never known he had been observed. We’d never know exactly why he had to kill Mrs. McCreedy. Had she caught him trying to sneak up to Kathleen? Personally I think he wanted to make Kathleen appear guilty of a second murder. A coldhearted man indeed! What a lot of traumatic memories that child would have to work through before she could start to live a normal life. I was glad that Dr. Birnbaum and Gus would be helping her.

Sid, Gus, and Daniel’s mother left to go home and Daniel and I finally had the place to ourselves until the ship arrived. We sat together on the lawn, looking out at the whitecaps on the ocean and I thought how lucky we were that we had our whole lives ahead of us now. When Daniel was forced to take a rest I found time to visit Miss Gallinger and give her all the news. She was most excited to hear what had transpired.

“So I was right then, wasn’t I?” she said. “The child was already dead when she went over the cliff. I remember how resilient one was as a child. I fell off that cliff once. And you see, now her sister survived the fall too.”

We took tea together and she thanked me profusely. I’d obviously given her something to talk about with her maid through the long winter evenings ahead. I saw her watching me wistfully from behind the lace curtain as I left.

On the day of our departure Daniel and I were driven to our boat in the family motorcar. As soon as the steward left our cabin, Daniel took me into his arms.

“At least you can say that our honeymoon wasn’t dull,” he said. “I hope we can look forward to a more peaceful life together in the future.”

“Peaceful lives can be awfully boring.” I smiled up at him.

“What am I going to do with you, Molly Murphy?”

“Just love me for what I am.” Then I asked abruptly. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What I haven’t been strong enough to do for the past few days,” he said firmly.

“Are you up to it?”

He started to laugh. I laughed with him and we didn’t even hear the toot of the siren as the ship slipped away from its berth, back to New York and our new life.

Also by Rhys Bowen

The Molly Murphy Mysteries

Bless the Bride

The Last Illusion

In a Gilded Cage

Tell Me, Pretty Maiden

In Dublin’s Fair City

Oh Danny Boy

In Like Flynn

For the Love of Mike

Death of Riley

Murphy’s Law