It did sound strange, but everything about this was strange. “We believe this man named Will seduced these girls, and when they succumbed, he became enraged and beat them to death.”
“Sarah, my dear, that is preposterous. Who would believe that a man would become enraged and kill a woman because she submitted to him? Isn’t it usually just the opposite?”
“Yes, it is, which is why this case has been so difficult to solve. But just the other day, we discovered a clue that puts everything into perspective.”
“A clue?” She had his interest once again. “What kind of clue?”
“We have a photograph of the man named Will, Dirk. I don’t think it will surprise you to learn that it’s a picture of you.”
She watched the play of emotions across his face. Surprise came first, but the others followed so rapidly, she couldn’t even keep track, much less identify each one. The final one was, of all things, amusement.
“You think I killed those girls?” he asked in astonishment.
She didn’t want to admit it. She wanted to be wrong.
“You knew them all,” she reminded him.
“So you say. I don’t know which girls were murdered, so I can’t deny it. But I know dozens of girls like that, Sarah, much as it must shame me to admit it. Surely, not all of them have been murdered. Not a tenth of them, or the newspapers would have been raising a hue and cry against such a slaughter!”
“We don’t know why the victims were singled out,” Sarah said.
“And who is this we you keep talking about? You and that Irishman? Sarah, don’t you know anything at all about the police? They’re nothing more than uniformed criminals themselves! That detective-what’s his name?”
“Malloy,” Sarah supplied.
“Malloy,” he repeated, making a face as if the word left a bad taste in his mouth. “I already told you why he’s so interested in this case, if you don’t. He doesn’t care who killed these girls. He’s only pretending to in order to impress you. Any fool can see he has designs on you, Sarah. He must consider you quite a prize to spend so much time chasing a killer of women no better than prostitutes. Why should he care how many of them die? The world would be a better place with fewer such creatures in it!”
“Dirk!” she cried, horrified by his attitude, although she knew far too many others shared it. She could also have set him straight about Malloy’s interest in her, but she didn’t think it was worth the effort.
“Don’t bother to be offended, Sarah. You’ve accused me of murder. I think I’ve got a right to be offensive in return.”
“Can you explain how you happen to know all the dead girls?” she asked.
“I told you, I know dozens of these girls, dead and alive. I’ve given them gifts and enjoyed their favors. At least give me an opportunity to defend myself. I probably have an alibi for the crimes. When were these girls killed? I’ll consult my calendar and give you a full report!” He seemed genuinely offended.
Sarah was starting to feel foolish. Although she wanted him to be innocent, she hadn’t really considered the possibility that he was. “Dirk, really, this isn’t necessary.”
“Of course it is. I can see I must prove myself to you or live under a cloud of suspicion for the rest of my life. Tell me. You must know when these girls died. What about this Gretel, the one you knew? You must have the date of her death engraved in your memory.”
Sarah wanted to deny it, but she did know the date. “Her name was Gerda. She died on the night of July sixth.”
He stared at her for a moment, then slowly a smile spread across his face. “I knew it. I thought I’d have to go home and check, but that’s a date I’ll never forget. Timothy Vandervort. You remember him. He got married a few weeks ago. I was his best man. That was the night we had a bachelor party for him. There were about twenty of us. We had a suite at the Plaza Hotel, and several young ladies came to… uh… to entertain us. All of the men are from the best families in New York, and every one of them will vouch for the fact that I was there with them all night. So you see, I could not possibly have killed your poor little Gerda.”
Malloy would make discreet inquiries, of course, but she knew Dirk wouldn’t lie about something that could be so easily disproved. He wasn’t the killer.
“What’s the matter, Sarah? You look disappointed.”
“No, I… I’m just so relieved,” she said, realizing that she was. So relieved that she was weak from it.
“Here, let’s find a bench,” Dirk said, taking her arm and leading her over to where two old men were sitting, feeding crumbs to the pigeons. “Excuse me,” he said to them. “The lady is feeling faint. Do you mind?”
They jumped up and scurried away, allowing Sarah to sit down just before her knees gave out completely. She felt like a complete fool.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked solicitously.
Now she felt guilty. The man she’d just accused of murdering half a dozen young women was concerned about her welfare. “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. I just… Oh, Dirk, I’m so sorry. How could I have ever believed…?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, looking hurt. “How could you?”
“Everything seemed to suggest… And then Lisle was killed, right after I told you about her.”
“Lisle?”
“She was the one I said was most likely to have had a beau that Gerda would want to steal. She was murdered just a few days later.”
“Good God, how awful.”
“And Malloy found a photograph of you and Lisle that had been taken here at the park. She’d written the name Will on the back of it.”
“So Malloy’s the one who convinced you I’m a killer,” he said, thinking he understood everything.
Had he? Sarah couldn’t really remember. She’d thought it had been her own conclusion, but now she wasn’t sure. And Malloy hated Dirk. That much was certain. He’d wanted Dirk to be the killer. Had his prejudice colored his judgment? Had she let it color her own? She didn’t know. All she knew was that Dirk was innocent. Well, perhaps not innocent. His conduct had been too degenerate for that. but at least he wasn’t guilty of murder.
“Is that why you brought me here, to get me to confess to you?” he asked. He seemed to be amused again.
“It does sound silly, when you say it out like that, doesn’t it? Even if you were the killer, that hardly seems likely to happen. I’m terribly sorry, Dirk. Can you ever forgive me?”
“I’m not sure,” he said with amazing good nature. “But I will allow you to grovel a bit to get back in my good graces before I decide.”
“You’re very generous,” she allowed.
He shook his head in wonder as he considered the situation. “I can’t believe you came here alone with me if you believed I’d murdered those girls.”
Sarah had an urge to look around for Malloy, but she resisted. She didn’t want to alarm Malloy, and she didn’t want Dirk to know the extent of their folly. It was enough that she was embarrassed. No use embarrassing Malloy, too.
“We’re hardly alone, Dirk,” she pointed out, glancing meaningfully at the throngs of people passing by. “All the murders were committed in the city, in the dark of night.”
“And Malloy agreed to this idiotic plan?” he asked incredulously.
“I… I didn’t tell him,” she lied. No use making Malloy look as foolish as she did.
“Oh, Sarah, I thought you were such a sensible woman. When I think of what could have happened if you’d confronted the real killer this way…”
“I know.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “I suppose I’m not cut out to be a detective. I should leave that to the police.”
Dirk made a rude noise, reminding her of how infrequently the police did any detecting of their own. She ignored him, choosing instead to begin making up for her ugly suspicions.