Murder in the North End (14 page)

“My name’s Tom Dougherty,” Will said, “I need to rent a room, and I’m lookin’ at this one, but to be honest, the notion of some loco running around shooting people in the head makes me think maybe I should be lookin’ someplace else.
She
likes the place—” he cocked his head toward Nell “—but I ain’t so sure. I got some questions I’d like answered first.”

“You two hitched?” Pru asked.

Nell was about to answer yes, having agreed with Will that they would pose as Jack Dougherty and his wife, Moira, when Will said, “Nah. Moira, here, she’s one of the girls I...take care of.” He gave Pru a slippery grin Nell had never seen before and hoped to never see again.

Pru smiled knowingly as she dabbed up a fingertip of crimson lip rouge and slicked it over her lips, her gaze never leaving Will’s. She rubbed her lips together, snicked the compact shut, and said, “I heard a bang from that direction, but I wasn’t real sure what it was. There was a fight goin’ on right over our heads that night, and it was even louder than when them can-can dancers is goin’ at it, like now. I finished up with my john and went over to the flat to check it out. The door was open, and that’s when I seen what I seen.”

“Detective Cook standing over the body with a gun.”

“It was
his
gun,” Pru said. “His coat was hangin’ open, like, and I seen his holster, and it was empty.”

“That still doesn’t mean he done it,” Denny said.

“You wasn’t even there, you little gnat,” Pru said. “If you’d seen him standin’ there with that gun, lookin’ all grim and mean, you’d of known he done it. I screamed so loud my throat was sore till the next day. I thought for sure he was gonna aim that gun at me and pull the trigger.”

“Did you see Mary Molloy?” Will asked her.

“Yeah, she was there. She had this old satchel layin’ open on the bed, and she was throwin’ her clothes into it without even foldin’ ‘em, just kind of shovin’ ‘em in there, all frantic like. There was blood drippin’ outa her nose, and she didn’t even stop to wipe it off. It got on some of the clothes.”

“Blood?” Will said.

“She’d taken a few licks,” Pru said nonchalantly. “One side of her face was all beat up, but it wasn’t the first time. You’d see bruises on her sometimes, under the makeup. That’s the kind she was, always askin’ for it.”

“She wasn’t, neither!” Denny exclaimed.

“What would
you
know about it?” Pru shot back. “You ain’t even had a girl yet, much less tried to rein in a load of mischief like Mary Molloy.”

“She wasn’t a load of mischef,” Denny said. “She didn’t swear and smoke and give herself cheap. She wasn’t anything like the rest of you blowers.”

“She was a damn sight worse, if you ask me,” Pru countered, “slippin’ ‘round on Johnny like an alleycat. Johnny did what he had to do to keep her in line—not that it did any good. If she was the kind to learn her lesson, she never would of taken up with Cook.”

“You don’t know that,” Denny said.

“You think the two of them were involved?” Will asked Pru. “Detective Cook and Mary Molloy?”

“I know they were.” Pru reached up to tidy her unkempt topknot, arching her back so as to display her charms to Will in a way that Nell found crudely obvious. “Everybody knew, or at least had their suspicions. Then, one night about a week ago, I seen him leavin’ their flat through the basement door, the one that lets out onto the backyard. He looked all around while he was comin’ up the stairs, like to make sure there weren’t nobody nearby to see him.”

“How did
you
manage to see him, then?” Will asked.

“I was comin’ back from the chicken house. He didn’t see me, though. I hid behind the privy till he was gone.”

“The chicken house?” Will said. “Ain’t that were Finn Cassidy lives?”

“She’s sweet on Finn, ain’t you, Pru?” Denny said. “She thinks if she gives it to him for free, he’ll turn sweet on
her,
but all he wants from her is a quick—”

“Go to hell and help your mother make bitch pie, you mangy little fly-blow,” Pru spat out.

Denny said, “It’s true. She moons over him like he’s the Prince of Wales, and he just uses her for what she’s good at. It ain’t her he likes. It’s—”

“Denny!” boomed a voice from the top of the stairs: Riley, the bartender. “Get your bony little arse up here with that Jameson’s.”

Denny hesitated, his jaw set.

“Better hurry along, Denny-boy,” Pru taunted in a sing-songy voice. “Your master’s callin’ you.”

“Now,”
Riley bellowed.

The boy shot Pru a look of loathing. “If you want the flat, you’ll have to go talk to Mother,” he told Will, and sprinted up the stairs with the jug. Pru stuck her tongue out at his retreating back.

“So, you were able to watch Cook from where you were hiding?” Will asked her.

“Yeah, he got halfway up the stairs, when Mary comes out and says, ‘Hey, didn’t you forget somethin’?’ He says, ‘Oh, yeah, sorry, slipped my mind,’ and pulls some greenbacks outa his pockets and gives ‘em to her.”

“You’re sure it was money he gave her?” Will asked. “You said it was nighttime. It musta been dark.”

“She was carryin’ a lamp. I seen it real clear. Mary stuffs the money down her top and says somethin’ like, ‘What if Johnny finds out?’ or ‘I’m worried he’s gonna find out,’ or somethin’ like that, and Cook kinda strokes her hair and says ‘He ain’t gonna find out so long as we’re careful.’”

“Why should she have been worried about Johnny finding out?” Will asked. “I mean, she
was
hooking, right?”

“Sure, but she specialized. Only the live ones for her—them with the deepest pockets. If she caught the eye of some regular fella, some sailor or dockworker or such, she’d give ‘em the cold shoulder. But if he was dressed all fine, with a good coat and a fancy walkin’ stick, she’d giggle and coo and let him take her downstairs.”

“Did Johnny pimp for her?”

“Well, she reeled in the johns all by herself. He didn’t go out and find ‘em, or anything like that. Most nights, she’d be just sittin’ there at one of the tables, drinkin’ her milk, and—”

“Milk?
”
Will said.

“She looks younger than she is, lots younger, and Johnny liked her to play that up. I think she’s about my age, early twenties, but she’s real small and slender, with them big blue eyes. You’d take her for maybe thirteen if you seen her sittin’ there with her milk and her braids and them white collars and cuffs. If some rich snoot took an interest, she’d let him take her downstairs. Then, about a minute or two later, Johnny would head back that way, so I reckon he was following ‘em down there. Waitin’ ‘round for the money, prob’ly. Maybe makin’ sure she gave it all to him. Or maybe he made the john pay him directly. I heard he just doled out a half-bit to her from time to time, and she had to beg him for that much.”

“Cook may not have been rich,” Will said, “but if he was a paying customer, why should Johnny have had a problem with it? Why should Mary have felt like she had to keep it a secret from him?”

Perhaps, Nell thought, because he didn’t get to watch.

Pru shrugged as she slid hairpins out of the topknot and pushed them back in. “Maybe Mary wanted to keep Cook’s money all to herself ‘stead of handin’ it over to Johnny. Or maybe it was ‘cause her and Cook had a little bit more goin’ on between ‘em than just business. She didn’t have no other reg’lars. He was the only one I know of that ever came back for seconds, and when I was watchin’ ‘em that time, well... He didn’t look at her like she was no whore, and he didn’t talk to her like the johns talk to the rest of us. He was...gentle like.”

“He paid her, though,” Will said.

“That don’t mean he didn’t have them kinds of feelings for her. Didn’t you ever give money to some girl you fancied? Or special little gifts, even if you knew she’d just turn around and pawn ‘em?”

Will conceded her point with a little duck of his head and a rueful smile.

“Thing is,” Pru said, “only fella Mary Molloy was s’posed to be spreadin’ them skinny little legs for on a reg’lar basis was Johnny Cassidy. If he’d of found out about Cook, he’d of likely wrung her neck.”

Will said, “You told Constable Skinner all this, about Cook leaving Mary’s place that night?”

“He asked me if I’d ever seen Cook doin’ anything untoward. That was how he put it—‘untoward.’ So I told him about Cook and Mary.”

“Did anyone else know?” he asked. “Had you told anyone, after you saw Cook leave her flat that night?”

“Not right after, but I thought about it. I never did like Mary. Uppity little bitch, thinks she’s better’n the rest of us working birds.”

“If you didn’t like her,” Will asked, “how come you didn’t tell?”

With a sly little smile, Pru said, “I had my reasons.”

“You decided to blackmail her, didn’t you?” Nell asked.

It was the first time Nell had spoken, and it was probably a bad idea, because Pru cut her a scornful look and said, “I reckon I’d best be gettin’ back upstairs before Mother starts wonderin’ what’s takin’ me so long. She don’t like us girls to spend too much time down here. Eats into her profits as well as ours.”

“She takes a cut of what you’re paid?” Will asked.

“She takes the money and give us
our
cut, which is half of what the johns pay—greedy old haybag.”

“Don’t seem quite fair,” Will said.

“It’s that or the street,” Pru said. “Used to be, it was the other way ‘round—they’d pay us, and we’d give Mother her half—but Mother always thought we was cheatin’ her. Like, if we told her we just did a French trick, she’d say no you didn’t, it took too long, it must been reg’lar, and she’d keep it all, on account of reg’lar costs double what French does.”

“In that case,” Will said, “you must have been tempted to get away with what you could from time to time. I know
I
would have been.”

“From time to time,” Pru admitted. “Not too often, ‘cause we didn’t want to push our luck. One time, ‘bout four, five years ago—” she glanced up the stairs and lowered her voice “—this girl Ellie was holdin’ back way too much. She got careless, you know? Well, Mother found out, and next thing you know, they find Ellie floatin’ facedown in the Charles River. Coroner said she’d been strangled and dumped there. After that, we toed the line, you know what I mean? When Mother started doin’ the collectin’ herself, I was actually relieved.”

“Understandable,” Will said. “I’ve just got one more question, if you don’t mind.”

“You sure got a lot of ‘em.”

“Like I said, I just want to know what really happened before I lay down my money for that flat.”

“I told you what happened.”

“Did anybody else see what you saw?” Will asked. “Seems to me I heard there were other witnesses.”

“Yeah, there was a couple of young swells smoking gong back in there.” She nodded toward the hop joint. “They came stumblin’ out when they heard me scream, and they seen Cook standin’ over Johnny with that gun. They were hopped up pretty bad. One of ‘em had to hold onto the wall just so’s he could stand. The other one actually started gigglin’, like it was funny or somethin’. I hightailed it upstairs, but I think them two mighta just gone and laid back down and smoked some more dope, ‘cause I didn’t see ‘em after that.”

“Did you recognize them?” Will asked.

“I never seen ‘em here before. I think they was just a couple of young fellas from Beacon Hill or the Back Bay out for a little taste of the lowlife. A little night spree in the North End, you know?”

“Do you know whether the constable who came questioned them?”

“I dunno, but if he did, I reckon they woulda told him the same thing I did. Don’t listen to that stupid Denny Delaney. He just don’t want to face up to his precious Detective Cook doin’ somethin’ like that, but I seen what I seen, and I know what I know. You ask me, Cook was drillin’ Mary, and Johnny came in and caught ‘em. Johnny gets worked up, so Cook shoots him in the head and runs off with Mary.”

“Any idea where they might have gone?” Will asked.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care, but if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll stay clear of here. Finn says she’s the reason his brother got killed. He says he’ll put a bullet in
her
brain if she ever shows her face here again.”

Nell and Will stood in the doorway of Mother Nabby’s back room listening to Finn Cassidy, looming over her desk with his back to them, make his case for not renting out his late brother’s flat.

“Christ Amighty, Mother, it’s only been two days since Johnny got killed,” Finn said heatedly. “It ain’t right, lettin’ somebody else move in so soon.”

“He ain’t comin’ back, y’know,” Mother said around a mouthful of the roasted leg of lamb sitting on a platter in front of her.

“I know he ain’t—”

“And meantime, I got a business to run.” She washed down the lamb with a long swallow of beer, eyeing Nell and Will over the rim of the tankard. “Well?” she said as she wiped her mouth with the back of her bare arm. “D’you want the place or not?”

“I think so, but I have a few questions,” Will said as he ushered Nell into the room with a hand on her back. He kept it there, for which she was grateful. Mother Nabby made her nervous, and it was comforting, that physical contact.