Death at Tammany Hall Read Online Free Page A

police an extortion letter in my handwriting. Someone at Tammany Hall or in the NYPD must have fabricated the letter to Smith. Inspector Williams declared the letter to be authentic. At the bench trial, Judge Fawcett convicted me of extortion and sentenced me to five years in Sing Sing.”
    â€œWhat evidence did the judge have?” Pamela asked.
    â€œNot much,” Harry replied. “Chiefly the letter to Smith, but also testimony from Williams and several NYPD officers describing me as overly ambitious, reckless, and insubordinate. One of the officers claimed that I had said more than once I would make Smith pay.”
    â€œA remark obviously taken out of context,” Pamela said, then asked Harry, “What happened in prison and afterward?”
    â€œTammany Hall’s agents tried to silence me. I managed to defend myself, but I couldn’t clear my name. After four years, Prescott got me out on probation, and I joined the firm.”
    â€œIt’s a distressing story,” said Pamela. “We need to find out why the cabdriver was killed and who was responsible for the false extortion letter that framed you. Now is the time to begin.”
    Harry smiled. “For the first time in seven years I’m hopeful. What can be done for my friend, Theresa?”
    Pamela reflected for a moment. “If she were to escape from the Sullivan house with her son, she could temporarily live in my empty room. She might prefer to stay with her sister, but the White family’s apartment is crowded and would suit her only in an emergency. We must act soon before Michael’s harassment causes Theresa’s mental state to deteriorate.”
    â€œWhat can I do to help?”
    â€œWhile I speak to Theresa’s sister, Trish, you could investigate Michael Sullivan.”
    Harry rubbed his hands with relish. “I’ll find someone in his office who sees through his respectability, and I’ll check out his nightlife for a pattern of immorality and/or crime. A man who treats his younger sister so badly may also have injured other women.”
    â€œYes, we’ll prove that he’s unfit to judge Theresa or to assume custody of her boy.”

C HAPTER 3
    Victim of Abuse
    Saturday, November 10
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    â€œH ow shall we free Theresa and James from her family’s grip?” Trish asked Pamela. It was midmorning, and they were at tea in the White family kitchen.
    â€œI must gauge the level of her distress and her will to become her own master. When can I meet her again?”
    â€œLet’s go to her now,” Trish replied. “Earlier this morning, I expected her here, but she didn’t show up. I should enquire about her. She lives nearby.”
    They walked the short distance to the Sullivan home on a side street off Union Square. Though an older building, it still would have cost more than a retired bank clerk like Theresa’s father could afford. His son, Michael, must be paying the mortgage and other bills, and thus controlling the family.
    Pamela waited across the street behind a parked carriage where she could observe the front of the house. A sour-looking maid opened the door, spoke brusquely to Trish, and shut the door in her face.
    Livid with anger, Trish rejoined Pamela. “That bitch of a maid said my sister was ill and would not receive any visitors. I asked if I could speak to my nephew. The maid said no, he was also ill.”
    â€œThat was a lame excuse,” said Pamela. “They’ve locked up Theresa and her boy in the house. Michael will provoke her to the point of despair where she would appear mad. Can you trust anyone in the house?”
    Trish thought for a moment. “Mrs. Donovan, the cook, knows Theresa’s story and hates Michael. But she’s afraid of him and fears he would throw her out on the street without references if she displeased him in the slightest way. At this time of day, she’s usually in the market on Union