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“He was a mistake, wasn’t he?” Sarah guessed. “Because he wasn’t married.”
“She was supposed to check!” Walcott shouted. “She just asked some kid on the street who lived in the house. She didn’t bother to find out that the Mrs. Ellsworth who lived there was his mother!”
“So that’s why you were so angry with A
“She was causing too much trouble, and she wouldn’t stop,” Walcott said coldly. “I had to get rid of her before she ruined us all.”
“Is that why you killed Francine, too?” Sarah asked. “Because she was causing trouble?”
“No, because she got sentimental.” Walcott gave her a condescending glare. “One of her gentlemen friends killed himself, and she started feeling guilty. She even started talking about doing penance for her sins and maybe even going to the police, so I had to silence her.”
“The way you silenced the old man who owned this house?” Malloy said.
“It wasn’t like that,” Walcott said. “The old man wasn’t supposed to die. I’d thought of this foolproof way to make money, and I needed a house. Ellie knew about this old man who had one.”
“Who’s Ellie?” Malloy asked. “Is she buried in the cellar, too?”
Walcott gave him an irritated glance. “Ellie Cu
“You’re an actor?” Sarah cried, earning another black look from Malloy.
“Yes, an excellent actor,” Walcott said smugly. “I fooled you, didn’t I? I fooled everyone.”
He was right, of course. “I’m sorry I interrupted you,” she said. “Please continue.”
“Ellie and I started this thing together. She charmed the old man into renting us a room. Told him I was her husband. We gave him a little opium to keep him happy so he wouldn’t notice the gentlemen callers Ellie had. We might’ve given him too much, or maybe his time was just up, but one day he just died. We decided no one would miss him, and why should we leave and let the house go to some stranger? So we buried him in the cellar and told people we’d bought the house from him and he’d moved away.”
“What did you do with this Ellie?” Malloy asked.
“Nothing. She got bored and wanted to go back on the stage. She went on tour, and I never saw her again. By then I had Francine, though, so we didn’t miss her.”
“And after Francine ended up in the cellar, you got Catherine and A
Walcott gave him an impatient look. “She was supposed to, but… I gave Francine opium and she died real quick, like the old man,” he said, apparently forgetting his fiction that the old man’s death had been an accident. “But with A
Sarah looked at Malloy, and she knew they were thinking the same thing. Now it all made sense! The reason A
“Why did you try to kill Webster Prescott?” Malloy asked.
Walcott managed a sneer. “Who says I did?”
Before anyone could blink, Malloy gave him a back-handed slap, surprising a gasp from Sarah and a cry of outrage from Harold.
Malloy turned to them in disgust. “If you don’t have the stomach for this, you better leave now.”
Harold looked pale, and Sarah felt very light-headed again. She’d known Malloy’s tactics could be rough, but seeing them was much worse than simply knowing about them. Still, he was dealing with a man who had killed four people. She took a deep breath and said, “You can go if you want to,” to the boy.
Harold shook his head determinedly.
Sarah looked up at Malloy. “We’ll stay.”
He narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t challenge her decision. “Don’t make me ask you again, Walcott,” he said.
“Prescott was too smart,” Walcott said quickly, obviously anxious to avoid another blow. “He’d found out about A
“You must be losing your touch,” Malloy said. “First A
Walcott gave Sarah a black look. “You turn up like a bad pe
“Don’t expect me to apologize,” she said.
“Why did you have to kill Catherine Porter?” Malloy asked.
Walcott sighed. “I’ll always regret that. I was very fond of Catherine, but she’d figured out what happened to A
“So you decided to pretend that you’d run away with Catherine and left your poor i
Walcott just gave her a derisive stare.
“Are we going to find your wife buried in the cellar, too?” Malloy asked him.
Walcott gave him a pitying look. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? There is no Mrs. Walcott. I’m the entire Walcott family.” He smiled at his own joke.
“I found the wigs and the fake beard in your bedroom,” Malloy said. “What gave you the idea to dress up like a woman in the first place?”
“After the old man died, I needed a wife,” Walcott said, obviously proud of his ingenuity. “Ellie couldn’t be living with a single man. That wouldn’t be respectable. So we invented Mrs. Walcott.”
“What do you mean, invented her?”
“I created the character,” Walcott bragged. “I became Mrs. Walcott whenever we felt that we needed her.”
“You’ve needed her a lot lately,” Sarah observed.
Walcott didn’t seem the least bit chagrined. “I found I enjoyed being Mrs. Walcott. And the gentlemen callers were much more comfortable dealing with a female landlady. It was my greatest role, and I believe I handled it admirably. I fooled all of you,” he reminded them again.
Plainly, Malloy found the whole idea distasteful. “Didn’t A
“They didn’t seem to. Actually, I think it excited them. The very afternoon A
“That’s enough,” Malloy said, glancing meaningfully at Sarah and Harold.
They stared back blankly, shocked into silence by the strangeness of the tale.
Someone started knocking on the front door, and one of the policemen opened it. Sarah looked out into the foyer to see an elderly woman come in with a covered plate in her hands. “I’m Miss Stone from next door,” she was explaining to the policeman. “I brought some food, in case anyone is hungry.”
Sarah’s stomach growled. She was on her feet in an instant. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Stone,” she said, grateful for a chance to escape this bizarre conversation, and hurried out to accept her gracious gift.
“You did that on purpose,” Sarah said.
She and Malloy were finally alone, riding uptown from The Tombs in a Hansom cab. Oliver/Olivia Walcott was locked up at Police Headquarters, and Harold Giddings had gone to be with his mother at the city jail. He’d vowed to stay there until morning, when she would be officially released. Malloy had managed to find a cab. He even knew the driver, which meant they would probably make it safely home.