Murder on St. Nicholas Avenue by Victoria Thompson Page A

don’t we ask him?” Decker said, knowing full well they should send this Yorke fellow on his way and not get more involved in this than they already were. But common sense was no match for curiosity, he was learning.
    â€œBring Mr. Yorke up, will you?” Elizabeth asked the maid, who hurried to obey her.
    â€œWho could this man possibly be?” he asked when they were alone.
    â€œPerhaps he’s one of the people listed in Pollock’s ledger.”
    He hadn’t thought of that. “I don’t recall that name.”
    â€œWe should have copied the names so we’d have a list.”
    â€œIn case one of them happened to show up on our doorstep?” he asked.
    â€œWhen you’re working on a case, you must be ready for any eventuality, Felix.”
    He was still gaping at her when the maid announced Mr. Yorke.
    He was a respectable-looking man in his thirties. His waistline was still trim, although his hairline had begun to retreat. His clothes were well tailored, but his face was haggard. “I’m sorry for bursting in on you like this, missus—” he began as if reciting a speech he had prepared, but the sight of Felix, whose presence he could not have anticipated, stopped him. “Sir,” he said with a curt but uncertain nod.
    â€œThis is my husband, Mr. Yorke,” Elizabeth said. “He just happened to be here and is as interested as I in learning your business with me.”
    â€œI’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Decker, and I must apologize to you both for my intrusion, but it is a matter of some importance, and I didn’t know where else to turn.”
    â€œThen by all means have a seat and tell us why you’re here,” Decker said, indicating a chair.
    â€œMay I offer you something, Mr. Yorke? Some coffee perhaps?” Elizabeth said.
    â€œThank you, no. I don’t wish to inconvenience you.” He sank down into the chair as if he were grateful to rest. Now that Felix had had an opportunity to study him for a moment, he realized the young man appeared to be under a great deal of strain. His hands gripped the arms of the chair and his lips seemed nearly bloodless.
    â€œSo tell us, Mr. Yorke, what brings you here today?” Elizabeth said.
    â€œI need to see Randolph Pollock, but his servants told me he wasn’t available and I would have to speak to you. Please, if you’ll just tell me where I can find him, I’ll be on my way.”
    â€œI’m afraid Mr. Pollock really is unavailable, but if you’ll tell us what your business is with him, we’ll assist you in any way we can.”
    He drew a breath as if to calm himself before he replied. “As I said in the message I sent with your maid, my sister is married to Randolph Pollock.”
    â€œYour sister is Una O’Neill?”
    â€œNo. My sister is Cecelia Yorke.”
    Felix and Elizabeth exchanged a startled glance. “We were under the impression that Pollock was married to a young woman named Una O’Neill,” Elizabeth said.
    â€œYes, it is my understanding that he has married a second time.”
    â€œWhile he was still married to your sister, Mr. Yorke?” Felix said.
    Yorke hesitated. “Pollock claims that Cecelia . . . that she died.”
    â€œI’m so sorry,” Elizabeth said.
    â€œYou sound as if you doubt that claim, Mr. Yorke,” Felix said.
    Yorke closed his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply, as if reaching for some inner strength. “We haven’t seen Cecelia for almost two years. Since right after she married Pollock.”
    â€œWhy not?” Elizabeth asked when he didn’t go on.
    â€œIt wasn’t our choice, if that’s what you’re thinking. My parents approved of the match, and even though Cecelia hadn’t known him very long, he seemed genuinely devoted to her. But shortly after they were married, Cecelia stopped visiting our parents, and