Murder on St. Nicholas Avenue Read Online Free

daughter’s misfortune. I hope Maeve and I can be of some assistance to you.”
    â€œWhen I told Mrs. Decker what happened, she insisted on coming with me,” Maeve explained.
    â€œThat’s very kind, I’m sure,” Mrs. O’Neill said faintly as Mrs. Decker swept past her.
    â€œIs this the house?” she asked, indicating the gray stone, turreted row house behind Mrs. O’Neill.
    â€œYes, but . . .”
    Mrs. Decker climbed the long flight of steps that led to the front door, located on the second floor. Maeve indicated Mrs. O’Neill should follow, which she did with obvious reluctance. Maeve brought up the rear after the driver, John, handed her the carpetbag Mrs. Decker had thought to bring along.
    â€œI’m not sure we should be doing this,” Mrs. O’Neill whispered to Maeve.
    â€œYou have every right to be in your daughter’s house,” Maeve lied.
    Mrs. Decker used the brass knocker with what Maeve realized was authority. She would have to remember exactly how she did that. After what seemed like a long time, the door opened just a bit and a very uncertain face peered out.
    â€œGood morning,” Mrs. Decker said. “Mrs. Pollock’s mother is here to gather some things for her. If you would be so kind . . .”
    Maeve couldn’t tell if Mrs. Decker actually pushed on the door or not, but the maid seemed to stumble a bit as she jumped out of the way when Mrs. Decker swept inside.
    â€œThere’s nobody at home,” the maid tried.
    â€œOf course not,” Mrs. Decker said. She was in the foyer now. Maeve gave Mrs. O’Neill a small nudge of encouragement to herd her into the house, too. “Mr. Pollock is unfortunately deceased, and Mrs. Pollock is being detained by the police. That’s why we’re here. Mrs. Pollock needs a change of clothing and some toiletries. Would you please take her mother, Mrs. O’Neill, up to her bedroom so she can pack them?”
    Maeve didn’t know who looked more astonished, the maid or Mrs. O’Neill.
    Mrs. Decker gave the young woman a few moments to react, and when she just stood there, gaping, Mrs. Decker said, “Is it this way?” and started for the staircase at the end of the foyer.
    The girl scrambled to catch up, and Maeve gave Mrs.O’Neill another nudge. With a dismayed glance back at Maeve, she obediently followed the other two up the stairs. As she and Mrs. Decker had previously decided, Maeve remained downstairs, prepared to become inconspicuous until she was certain she was unobserved. This required a wait of only a few minutes, during which no other servant came to investigate and the maid who had gone upstairs with the others did not reappear. Mrs. Decker would be keeping her busy, as they’d planned.
    When she was satisfied no one would notice, Maeve strolled down the hallway and glanced into each of the rooms. A small parlor to the right was the scene of the murder, according to what Mrs. O’Neill had told her. The room looked remarkably undisturbed except that the carpet had been rolled up and lay like a low barrier in front of the doorway. Maeve imagined it was bloodstained, and the servants hadn’t wanted to look at it.
    A long dining room lay to the left. Except for the rolled carpet, both rooms were well furnished, and everything in them was obviously brand-new if not of the very best quality. Beyond the parlor, behind a closed door, was what must have been Mr. Pollock’s office or study. Judging from the lingering scent of tobacco smoke, no ladies would have felt welcome here. With another glance up and down the hallway to make sure no one was watching, Maeve stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
    Only then did she realize she still held the carpetbag. Muttering an imprecation at her carelessness, she set it down and hoped her companions didn’t send the maid back down for it before she’d finished