I put my hand on his arm. "Here, drink a cup of coffee. You'll feel better."
After about an hour of sitting, waiting, and speculating we were led through into the great hall they call the registry room. There were only enough of us to fill the front few benches and the hall echoed to the clatter of our feet. They obviously hadn't allowed any more ships to land. The big room was cold and drafty without the benefit of all those bodies. I found myself shivering and wrapped my shawl close around me.
Bridie, completely unaware of the horrors of the night, was full of beans and wanted to run around. She squirmed and fussed on my lap until I let Seamus take her off into a corner where the other children were playing. It was then I noticed that men were guarding the doorways--they weren't dressed in the braid and peaked caps of the island guards, but in blue uniforms and tall helmets. Instantly recognizable as policemen. They stood, motionless, watching us.
A group of men came into the room. Some of them were uniformed, too, but the administrator who addressed us yesterday was with them, deep in conversation with a young man wearing a derby and the sort of tweed jacket you might see in Ireland. I wondered if they had already detained a suspect, but then the
young man looked up, nodded, and laughed. Clearly not a suspect, then.
Mr. McSweeney stepped out in front of us and held up his hand for silence, although we had been sitting in close to silence since we got there. "As some of you have heard, there has been a terrible tragedy. A man has been killed. You will all be asked to make a statement to the police. Interpreters will be provided for those who don't speak English. Please remain in your seats until you are called."
Then the young man in the tweed jacket stepped out in front of us. "We'd like to thank you all for your patience. I'm Captain Daniel Sullivan of the New York City Police. I'm running this investigation." He was brawny, well built, and looked far too young to be a captain of anything. "If any of you have anything at all that might help us solve this vicious crime, anything you know about the man who was killed, anything you saw or heard last night, then please come and tell me or one of my men. Even if you think it's something very small or unimportant, tell us. The last boat left the island at six o'clock last night, which means, as I'm sure you can figure out, that the crime was committed by someone who was among us last night and is still among us. None of you will be leaving this island until we've got this matter solved."
Interpreters got up and presumably translated what had been said. There were moans of anguish as the foreigners understood. One by one we were directed to stations where policemen and inspectors checked off lists. I went up when it was my turn. They asked my name and a clerk checked me against a master list.
"Traveling alone?" the policeman asked. "With my children, Seamus and Bridie. My husband will be meeting us when you let me out of this place." I was surprised how easily the words came out.
The policeman leaned over the desk and glanced at the master list. "You came on the Majestic. I see you're from the same part of Ireland as the man who died. Did you know him?"
"I'd never set eyes on him before I got on that ship." At least I didn't have to lie.
"But you did talk to him on the ship?"
"I talked to a lot of people. We were cooped up together there for seven days. Someone pointed him out
to me and told me his name. That's how I knew who he was. He was a loud kind of individual. You couldn't help but notice him."
"When you say loud, do you mean aggressive? Did he pick fights? Did you notice him having an argument with anyone in particular?"
I could hardly say, yes, with me.
"No, I just meant that he laughed loudly when the men played cards. He had a loud voice."
The men exchanged a glance, then the policeman nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. O'Connor. That will be all."
Eight
It was over. As easy as that. I went back to my seat. The children were still playing in the corner. I sat down and smiled at my neighbor. Suddenly I felt very hungry. Porridge with real cream, the way I used to make it at home, would have gone down a treat. But nobody brought around refreshments. The questioning must have taken an hour or more. Then the young man in the tweed jacket stepped out in front of us again.
"Sorry to have to detain you like this, when I know you're all itching to get ashore." He had an Irish name but the accent was very different from the brogue I was used to. "Some of you are now free to go. Interpreters, would you please tell those people who came on the Graf Bismark that they may now proceed to the usual immigration clearance. The following passengers from the Majestic are also free to leave." He read out a list of names. Mine was not among them. "Some of you have been asked to remain for further questioning. You may have information which can be of help to us. I don't anticipate you should be kept much longer--most of you."
The addition of those innocent words made alarm shoot through me. The more I was questioned, and maybe the children, too, the easier a slip would be. I had been so strong, so alert all this time. Now I just wanted it to be over and done with. We sat on the benches and waited. I looked around, trying to spot Michael, but I couldn't see him. I couldn't remember hearing his name called, but then I'd been listening so intently to hear my own name that I might have missed it. But he couldn't have gone, could he? Not when I had his five pounds in my pocket. I jumped when someone prodded me in
the back. "They're calling for you, Mrs. O'Connor," A policeman was beckoning me into a side room.
"Can you watch the children for me?" I asked one of the Irish women who was sitting beside me. The last thing I wanted was the children questioned.
"Don't worry, my dear, they'll be safe with me." She patted me on the hand, as if she was sorry for me.
I was led through to a little room with a desk and chair in it. The young New York detective was sitting at the desk, scribbling notes on a pad. He looked up when I came in.
"Mrs. O'Connor? Mrs. Kathleen O'Connor?"
There was something in the way he was looking at me --I could sense the heightened interest. He knows, I thought. He's been in touch with the English police and he recognizes me.
"That's right, sir." I sat on the chair indicated.
"From Stabane, county Derry. Sailed here on the Majestic to join husband, Seamus O'Connor, of Twenty-eight Cherry Street, New York City?"
"That's right, sir." I was determined to keep my answers as short as possible. If he was Irish-born, or even if he mixed in Irish circles, he'd spot instantly that my accent was not from county Derry.
"You say in your statement to my officer that you didn't know Mr. O'Malley, that you had never met him, even though you both came from the same small town of Plumbridge. Is that correct?"
"I have no idea where Mr. O'Malley came from. I had never met him before."
He looked up and there was a glint in his eyes. I noticed his eyes for the first time. He was what we call Black Irish--supposedly descended from those Spanish sailors who were able to swim ashore from the wreck of the Armada in Queen Elizabeth's time. He had unruly black curls that he had attempted, unsuccessfully, to slick down with a center part, a roguish cleft in his chin, and eyes that were an alarming blue. A very attractive man. I stared for a second before I remembered where I was, who I was supposed to be, and what was happening to me. Then I looked down at my hands
again.
"Mrs. O'Connor," the policeman went on, "it has been reported to me by several of your fellow passengers on the Majestic that you were seen striking Mr. O'Malley. Do you make a practice of going around striking men you don't know?"
"He made an indecent proposal to me," I muttered, still looking down at my hands. "He was trying to take advantage of a woman traveling without her husband."
"Was he now?"
I glanced up. For a fraction of a second I had seen what seemed to be amusement flash across his face. "So you hit him. Do you normally react so violently, Mrs. O'Connor?"
"I slapped his face," I said. "A woman is allowed to defend her honor when she has no man to protect her, isn't she?" I only realized as I was saying it that I seemed to be making a practice of defending my honor with violence recently. The two cases would tie together very nicely in police eyes.
I looked down again.
"And did Mr. O'Malley take the hint?" Captain Sullivan continued. "Did he bother you again?"
"No, sir. He took the hint."
"So you never had contact with him again?" "No."
There was a long pause. I just kept staring at my hands. A clock ticked loudly on the wall above us. I could hear the lapping of waves outside the window.
"Now here's another interesting thing, Mrs. O'Connor," Sullivan continued. "Your name came up in another context."
I tried to keep breathing evenly so that he wouldn't notice my rising panic.
"You were seen leaving your dormitory in the middle of the night. You were also seen, by two separate witnesses, running away from the men's dormitory, looking scared."
I looked up now, staring at him defiantly. "Did the two witnesses happen to mention that I had a child in my arms?" I demanded. "The little one had been sleepwalking. I caught her just before she went into the men's dormitory. Do you think I'd have brought her along for company if I'd gone in there to kill a man?"
Again the flash of interest before the frown returned.
"And I understand that the poor man had his throat cut from ear to ear," I went on. "I don't know where I'd be finding such a knife. I've witnessed the cutting of a pig's throat before now. There's a lot of blood. I don't think I'd have managed it without getting blood on my dress. So take a good look at me. I haven't had access to any change of clothing. Do you see any blood?"
I stood up and turned around. He was watching me with that same half-concealed amusement. "Sit down, Mrs. O'Connor," he said. "Nobody is suggesting that you killed Mr. O'Malley. For one thing I don't think you'd have had the strength. He was a big man. Whoever did it was taking an enormous risk. The first cut had to sever the windpipe so that he couldn't cry out. That would take a very sharp knife and a lot of muscle power--as well as experience in killing."
"And you've not found anyone with blood on his clothing yet?" I asked. "That would seem the most obvious thing to look for. None of us can get downstairs to our baggage."
"Are you telling me how to do my job, Mrs. O'Connor?" He asked it without malice, and smiled. He had rather a wicked smile.
"Sorry, sir. I just want to get out of this place and see my husband again."
"Oh yes, of course you do." Did his face fall? "But we have to get to the bottom of this while we have the opportunity. It's not often we detectives have the chance to tie up a case so easily--the suspects all in one place with no way to leave. And such a daring, outrageous crime. Somebody must have seen something. It's just a question of waiting until somebody talks." He leaned back in his chair and examined me carefully. "I don't know why, but I get the feeling that there's more you could tell us. You're holding back on something, Mrs. O'Connor. Wouldn't you like to get this murder solved so you could leave the island and go home?"
"Of course I would, but there's nothing I can tell you. I didn't know O'Malley. And you, yourself said I wouldn't possess the strength to kill him."
"But you could have been an accomplice. You could have brought your child along as an excuse and kept watch
outside the men's dormitory while your accomplice was committing the crime inside."
"That's ridiculous," I said. "And anyway, the guard was there. He can tell you. He came out of the men's dormitory and yelled at us. That's when I ran away."
"The guard?" He sat up straight again making his chair clatter upright. "You're saying you saw a guard in the men's dormitory? In the middle of the night?"
I nodded. "I grabbed Bridie just as she was about to walk into the room. He appeared and yelled at us. From the way he was yelling, he obviously thought I was coming to visit one of the men. And he stood there watching until I picked up the child and ran away."
"This guard--you'd recognize him again?" "I think so. He was a big man, a lot of whiskers, a paunch, and a big voice."
He stood. "Harris!" A young policeman poked his head around the door. "Have all the guards assembled and tell me when you're ready."
He sat down again and smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. O'Connor. That is most helpful. If you can identify him, at least we'll be further along." He paused, tapping his pencil on the table. He was a very energetic man, never still, I noticed. "I'm wondering why he didn't volunteer the information himself that he saw you hanging around the men's dormitory. Surely that counts as suspicious behavior."
"Unless he had something to hide himself," I suggested.
He stared at me.
"He could have committed the crime," I went on.
"And why would an island watchman want to kill an immigrant?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Robbery? He had a fine gold watch, money in his pocket?"
"You're traveling steerage, Mrs. O'Connor," Captain Sullivan said. "If any of you had anything worth stealing, you'd have paid for a cabin."
This, of course, was true. I got up. "So you'll not be needing me anymore until I have to identify the guard for you?"
Again he looked at me long and hard as if there were questions he was considering. "Well, I think you can
wait outside for now. I'll know where to find you if I have more questions," he said. "You can't swim away." And he smiled that cheeky smile again. In any other circumstances I'd have enjoyed flirting with a man like him. But I was a married woman, looking forward to joining her long lost husband. I was also, it seemed, under suspicion.
Just as I was leaving the room, a young uniformed policeman came in. "Sorry to interrupt, sir," he said. He had a definite Irish brogue. Was the whole of New York from Ireland?
"Yes, what is it, Lynch?"