Murder in Murray Hill (Gaslight Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

complaints.”
    Frank glanced around. Only two tables were currently occupied by groups of ladies gossiping over tea and cakes. “Do you keep this place by yourself?”
    “My wife helps.”
    “Is she here?”
    He shrugged. “She’s always here, same as me.”
    “Can I speak to her?”
    “She won’t know any more than I do.”
    Frank didn’t want to frighten the man because he’d probably stop cooperating completely, but he did give him a hard stare that sent him scurrying to the back to fetch his wife.
    She came out wiping her hands on her apron and frowning. “What’s this all about? We run a decent place here.”
    “I’m sure you do,” Frank said, trying his smile on her. She didn’t smile back.
    “He wants to know about that fellow with the yellow handkerchief,” her husband said.
    “Mr. Pendergast?” she asked.
    Frank bit his cheek so he wouldn’t smile at her husband’s surprise. “How do you know his name?” the husband asked.
    “How do you think? He told me,” she sniffed. “What do you want to know about him?”
    “Your husband said he was in here yesterday with this young lady.” Frank handed her the photograph.
    She squinted at it and shook her head. “Never saw her. But I’m usually busy with the cooking.”
    “Your husband said he comes in regularly with different young ladies.”
    “Yes, and I’m not surprised. He’s a charmer, that one,” she said. “Always quick with a compliment. A woman can always do with a compliment, you know, even if she knows it’s a lie.”
    Frank would have to remember that. “Do you by any chance know where he lives?”
    “Lives? Not hardly. Someplace close, I’d think, though.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    She had to think about this. “Just an impression, I guess. I heard him ask one of the girls if she’d like to meet his mother. Then they got up and left. I got a feeling they were going to walk, so it wouldn’t be too far, would it?”
    “Do you remember which direction they went?”
    She shook her head. “Not hardly. It was a while ago, and I’m too busy here to pay attention to where customers go when they leave here, aren’t I?”
    “They went that way,” her husband said, pointing down the street.
    “Are you sure?” Frank asked.
    “Yeah, I just remembered. He left before I gave him his change. I had to run after him.”
    Frank thanked them for their trouble and stepped back outside, peering down the street in the direction the man had indicated, as if he could make Pendergast appear. Of course, he couldn’t, and even if he could, Frank wouldn’t even know him without his yellow handkerchief.
    He slipped the photograph back into his pocket and headed over to Newspaper Row.
    • • •
    L uckily, the Livingstons only subscribed to the
World
, so Frank thought the odds were good Grace had found Pendergast’s ad in that paper. Of course, New York had lots of newspapers, and newsboys hawked newspapers on every corner in the city. She might have picked up any of them, but maybe he’d be lucky.
    The advertising department of the newspaper was a busy place, with several clerks dealing with customers who had come in to place an ad. A few minutes of observation told Frank most of the customers had no idea what they wanted, so the clerks had to spend a lot of time with each one of them, getting the ad copy down just right. No wonder the line was so long.
    Frank quickly lost his patience and asked for the supervisor, earning disgruntled glares from customers who had been waiting much longer than he had. A glimpse of his badge sent the clerk running for his boss, and Frank returned the disgruntled glares of the customers until they found something else to stare at.
    An officious man wearing wire-rimmed spectacles and abundant side whiskers appeared at the counter. “May I help you?”
    Frank pulled the handful of newspaper clippings from his pocket and laid them on the counter. “Are these from your newspaper?”
    He