Hush Now, Don’t You Cry (9 page)

My first impression was of this incongruity and I tried to imagine what had brought them all so hurriedly from their beds. They looked at us as we entered, hollow eyed and almost as if they were in a trance. A thought passed through my head that these were people who were in shock. Then of course I remembered the incident of the day before and realized that the little boys were not part of this gathering.
Please God let it not have anything to do with those boys,
I found myself praying.

I glanced around the group, recognizing Irene and Archie Van Horn, Terrence, Eliza, Mr. Joseph Hannan as well as a few people I hadn’t seen before. One was a plump, motherly looking older woman; one a skinny youth. He was perched on the arm of her chair, a study in contrasts, making the rhyme about Jack Spratt and his wife spring into my mind. The third person was a thinner, younger, somehow softer-looking version of Joseph, presumably the third Hannan brother, the priest. And the only one standing was a portly florid man in a policeman’s uniform with enough braid on it to indicate he was someone important.

“Ah, here they are now,” he said as we came in. “Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan, isn’t it? Please take a seat. I am Chief Prescott of the Newport Police.” There were two upright chairs near the door and we sat. It felt as if we had been called to an inquisition and tried to imagine what we were to be accused of.

“Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan. I am told you are supposedly here as guests of Alderman Hannan.”

“Supposedly?” I began, but Daniel put a hand on my arm to restrain me.

“May we ask what this is about?” Daniel demanded. “Exactly why have we been dragged from our beds at this ungodly hour on what is supposed to be our honeymoon? If this is some kind of family gathering then obviously we do not belong here.”

“Precisely,” Mr. Joseph Hannan said, pointing a finger in our direction. “Exactly what I told you, Chief Prescott. What are they doing here at the same time as us? That was the first thought that went through my mind—and the other family members as well.”

“We are here because Alderman Hannan invited us,” Daniel said.

“You’re a good friend of the alderman, are you, sir?” the policeman asked.

“No, I don’t know him socially. We have crossed paths professionally.”

“See, what did I tell you?” Joseph Hannan began again. “None of us had any idea they’d be here. None of us has ever heard mention of them before.”

“You say you don’t know the alderman socially, and yet he invites you to his house at the same time as his family. Didn’t that strike you as odd, sir?” The police chief took a step toward us in a menacing way, as if he was expecting us to break down and confess all. I studied his face. It must have been handsome once, but the jawline was starting to sag and those red cheeks betrayed too much liking for alcohol. And the way he was looking at us was making a flush of anger rise to my own cheeks.

I could keep quiet no longer. “Look, if you believe we are gate-crashers here, and obviously that is what you are insinuating, why don’t you ask the alderman himself? I’m sure he must have arrived by now.”

I saw a quick glance pass between several people seated in the room.

“May I ask when you last saw the alderman, sir?” the police chief asked.

Daniel frowned. “A couple of weeks ago.”

“You haven’t seen him since?”

“I just told you,” Daniel snapped, then drew out his handkerchief as the words turned into a bout of coughing. Prescott waited until he had finished.

“I must apologize,” Daniel muttered. “I seem to have caught a chill after being drenched in that storm the other night.”

“You say you cross paths professionally,” the policeman said. “What kind of profession would that be, sir?”

“I’m a policeman, like yourself,” Daniel said. “If you want to know the details, the alderman and I were chatting and when he learned about my ruined honeymoon, and that he was partly to blame, he made the kind offer of the use of his guest cottage, and suggested this date.”

“He was partly to blame? What do you mean?”

“I’m talking about the tunnel collapse last month. The new subway system that Hannan Construction is building in the city. I’m sure you must have read about it. If not, Joseph Hannan can tell you. He runs the business these days, isn’t that right, Mr. Hannan?” He looked at Joseph.

“There was a cave-in,” Joseph said coldly. “Bound to happen from time to time, given the unstable nature of the soil under Manhattan and the many streams that crisscross it.”

“It was a bad cave-in and several men were killed, weren’t they?” Daniel continued. “And I was called back from my honeymoon to see if there was any evidence of foul play involved.”

“Foul play?” Joseph demanded, half rising to his feet. “What are you getting at?”

“An attempt to sabotage your construction, Mr. Hannan. That’s what I’m getting at.” He and Joseph stared at each other for a long moment then Joseph sat down again.

“You’re a detective of some sort, are you then?” Chief Prescott asked. The tone was hostile, almost insulting.

“Captain Sullivan, New York Police,” Daniel said. “Senior detective at Mulberry Street.”

“I see, sir.” I noticed a slight shift in attitude. “Could you tell me why Mr. Hannan specifically invited you here at the same time as his family?”

“He mentioned this date and we accepted.”

“So he never said why he wanted you here at this particular moment? Didn’t that strike you as a trifle odd?”

“I had no idea he was planning to hold a family reunion at the same time. It came as a surprise to me, too,” Daniel said. “We came here expecting the place to ourselves and a quiet time.” I stared down at the carpet, not wanting to catch Daniel’s eye. But he went on calmly enough, “Where is the alderman, anyway? Why this meeting without him?”

“The alderman’s body was discovered lying half submerged in water on the rocks below the cliff this morning,” the police chief said evenly.

Daniel was instantly on his feet. “Who found the body?”

“Young Samuel did,” the plump woman said. “Came back to me in a terrible state.”

Daniel focused his gaze on the skinny youth. “And you are?”

“Sam,” the boy said. “Sam McCloskey, sir.”

“A member of Brian Hannan’s family?”

“He’s my grandson,” the large lady said. “I’m Mary Flannery, and Joe, Pat, and Brian are my brothers—were my brothers,” she corrected and crossed herself. “Samuel is the oldest of my daughter’s children. She married herself a no-good drunkard and she’s trying to raise eight children more or less single-handed so Brian had taken young Sam under his wing. Very fond of him, he was. And the other way around too. The boy has been quite beside himself all morning.”

Indeed young Sam was ashen faced and did look as if he was in shock. But then they all did. Irene’s eyes were red and swollen as if she had been crying. Now she just sat perfectly still, not moving a muscle and staring blankly at the unlit fireplace.

“You found the body at what time?” Daniel asked, moving toward the youth.

“I don’t know the exact time, sir.” Sam muttered. “I think I heard the grandfather clock chime six before I went out.”

“What were you doing out at that hour?” Daniel asked.

“Excuse me, Captain Sullivan,” Chief Prescott cut in, “but may I remind you that we are not in New York City and this is not your case. If anyone asks questions it will be me. Is that clear?”

“Certainly,” Daniel said, going back to his chair. “I’m sorry. Force of habit. I’ll let you get on with it then.”

“What were you doing out alone at that hour, son?” the chief asked.

“Going fishing,” the boy said. “My grandpa taught me how to fish. He said early morning was the best time.”

“My late husband, he means,” Mary Flannery said. “He taught the boy to fish off the docks in the city. We lived near the East River.”

“So you were going fishing,” the chief went on. “Go on.”

“I went and got a rod and line from the shed and then I decided to go down to the rocks and get some mussels for bait. I got to the edge of the cliff and I saw something on the rocks. To start with I thought a seal or a whale was lying in a tide pool. It wasn’t quite light, you see. I was really excited. I’d never seen a seal or a whale close up like that before.” He looked around for confirmation.

“Go on, boy,” Chief Prescott said.

“And then I saw the hand floating in the water and it was a human hand. So I ran along the cliff until there’s the place where we can climb down and—well, I just thought it was a body fallen off a boat or something. I never expected…” He broke off as his voice choked. “Then a wave came in and lifted the head and I saw that it was Uncle Brian.”

“What did you do then?”

“Tried to help him, of course. In case he was still alive. I made my way out to him through the waves. But then I saw his eyes, just staring and his face all beaten up and I knew he was dead.”

He put his hand up to his mouth and tried to swallow back the sob.

“Pull yourself together, boy,” Joseph said. “You’re almost a man. Men don’t cry.”

“Hush up, Jo. The boy’s had a horrible shock. You know how fond he was of Brian,” Father Patrick said gently. “It’s all right, boy. It’s good to grieve for those we loved.” I looked at him—a softer, kinder face than Joseph’s but also one that had known suffering, I decided.

“We’ve all had a shock,” Joseph said. “A terrible shock.”

“And we’ve all lost someone we loved,” Irene said. “But then some of us more than others. He was my father, you know.”

“We’re not debating who has the greatest claim to love him,” Joseph said shortly.

“Please, please.” Chief Prescott held up his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re just trying to get at the facts here. Go on, boy. What did you do after you saw it was Brian Hannan and he was dead?”

“I came running straight back to the house and I woke my grandma.”

“And I got dressed and went to see for myself, because the boy has been known to pull a prank or two before now,” Mary Flannery said, patting the boy on his knee for reassurance. “And there he was, the poor man, lying in the surf, just like the boy said. I came straight back to the house and went to wake my brothers.”

“Has a coroner or a physician been summoned?” Daniel asked.

“He has,” Prescott replied. “Not that there’s anything we can do for the poor fellow.”

“So we don’t yet know how long he’d been lying there,” Daniel said.

“I presume he must have gone for an early morning walk and miscalculated the cliff edge,” Prescott said, dismissing Daniel by turning away from him.

“But he never arrived last night,” Archie pointed out. “We waited dinner for him and he never showed up. So we all thought he’d been detained on a business or political matter and that he’d come this morning. We did think it odd that he didn’t telephone. He had a telephone put in the house, you know. He liked to stay abreast of matters.”

“So it’s possible,” Chief Prescott said, this time turning to look back at Daniel, “that he did arrive last night, and fell off the cliffs then, before he could make his presence known.”

“That hardly seems likely, does it?” Joseph interrupted before Daniel could comment. “My brother arrives at his own house, doesn’t come in to meet anyone or to let his servants know he is here. Instead slinks off to the cliff edge and falls over.”

“He wouldn’t have done that,” Irene’s voice was full of emotion. “You know how careful he was. You know what he thought about that cliff, after what we’d all gone through.”

“You mean the little girl?” Prescott said.

“Of course that’s what I mean. My daughter. My precious little daughter.” Irene’s voice cracked.

“Now don’t distress yourself, my dear,” Archie said. He frowned a warning at the police chief. “We don’t mention her anymore.”

“But I still think about her,” Irene said. “I still think about her every day, you know. She is still a raw wound that will never heal.”

“Uh, quite.” Chief Prescott looked embarrassed. “So you believe your father would not walk near the cliff edge because he had already experienced one tragedy?”

“Of course,” Irene said. “Especially not in the dark.”

“We do know it was dark when he arrived, do we?” Daniel asked. “If he had fallen and been killed earlier yesterday evening, for example, would anyone have seen him?”

“I might have,” I spoke up, making them all stare at me. “I was down on the seashore in the late afternoon. And Mr. Terrence Hannan had to assist me because the tide had come in and I was caught unawares. We could tell you there was no sign of anyone else near the beach then.”

“But that was some time before sunset,” Terrence said. “The servants and the luggage arrived just after I got back to the house, so I suspect we were all inside sorting out who was sleeping where and then dressing for dinner when it actually became dark.”

“Has anyone spoken to the servants yet?” Daniel asked. “Has Mr. Hannan’s valet not come to attend to him?”

“Brian still had the egalitarian outlook of our forebears,” Joseph Hannan said. “He saw no reason to have someone else hanging around to dress him. He employed servants only for things he couldn’t do himself. He kept a butler and housemaids and a cook at home. But no gentleman’s gentleman.”

“That wouldn’t have gone down well with his Tammany pals would it?” Terrence said dryly and was rewarded with a sharp look from his father.

“And Mr. Hannan would have come by train and not by automobile?” Daniel went on.

“It is a long uncomfortable trip by automobile,” Joseph said. “Most of it on unpaved road, you know. Certainly not worth the effort for a few days. I’m sure he was intending to come by train.”

“Who would have met him at the station? Would not one of the servants have been sent?”

“It depended if he had notified anyone of the train he was planning to catch,” Joseph said. “He could have telephoned from the station if he wanted someone to come and fetch him. He was just as likely to have taken a cab. Brian didn’t like fuss.”

“So we have no way of knowing whether he took the train and at what time he arrived here?” Daniel said.

“Not at this moment,” Joseph said.