He didn’t offer to shake hands, so Frank stepped back to make room for Sarah to precede him out.

“Good day, Richard,” she said, giving him another of her smiles. “Mr. Malloy.” Her smile for him was smaller. And sly. Frank was sure it was sly.

He was going to follow her when Dennis said, “Let me give you something for your trouble, Malloy.”

Frank would never forgive him for saying that where she could hear. He gave the man a look that drained the blood from his face. “It wasn’t any trouble,” he replied very distinctly and turned on his heel.

Mrs. Brandt was waiting for him out on the sidewalk, pretending to be ransacking her purse for something. She looked up and smiled at him the way she usually did when he came out the door. “Good morning, Malloy. Did you get Mrs. Giddings out of jail?”

“She and Harold should be home by now,” he replied, searching her face for any sign that she remembered what he’d done last night. He saw none. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“You mean after the opium?” she guessed, her eyes glittering knowingly. “Just fine. Except everything that happened last night seems like a dream. A very bad dream. Please tell me I didn’t imagine that Mr. Walcott is safely locked up.”

“You didn’t, and he’s the talk of the city. They aren’t quite sure whether to lock him in the men’s or the women’s section of the Tombs. The women at the house might not have thought he was strange for dressing up like a female, but everyone else in the city does.”

“Not many men could have carried it off,” she said. “I think he was right, it was his greatest role.”

The morning light had turned her hair the color of gold, and he didn’t remember ever seeing her look so beautiful. The knowledge was like a piece of jagged glass in his chest. “What kind of a deal did you make with Dennis to save Nelson’s job?” he asked, unable to keep the anger from his voice.

She smiled the way she did when she knew something he didn’t. “I didn’t make a deal. I simply told him that my father couldn’t understand how the auditors had discovered the missing funds so quickly, and we were sure there must be some mistake. A mistake like that could ruin the bank’s reputation, along with his. Then I reminded him of how faithful an employee Nelson had always been, and how tragic it would be if he were to suffer for crimes he hadn’t committed. A female can make her point just as effectively as a man, if she knows how, Malloy. Richard understood exactly what I was saying and the consequences he would face if he insisted on dismissing Nelson.”

Which would have included never seeing Sarah Brandt again. Frank could understand the man’s decision to do her bidding. “And now you’re going to see Richard tomorrow night.” He sounded childish, even to himself.

“He invited me to the opera. I haven’t been to the opera in years, so I accepted. Don’t look so disapproving, Malloy. I’ll start to imagine you’re jealous.” She smiled and shook her head in mock disgust. “Now tell me, when does Brian get his cast off?”

Frank blinked at the sudden change of subject. “Next Wednesday morning.”

“Could I come?” she asked. “I’d like to be there.”

She was only being kind, he told himself for the thousandth time and ignored the small spark of happiness she’d caused him. She was asking because she adored his son, and who could blame her? “I know the boy would like it,” was all he trusted himself to say.

That seemed to please her very much. “I’ll see you at the doctor’s office, then. And Malloy, thank you for working so hard on this case.” She gave him her hand, just the way she had to Dennis. “I know the Ellsworths will want to thank you, too, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate it.”

Her gloved hand felt small and fragile in his, and once again he experienced the rage he’d known last night when he’d realized how close Walcott had come to murdering her. “Just don’t think you’re going to be investigating any more murders, Mrs. Brandt,” he told her gruffly. “This is the last time I’m going to see you almost get killed.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with you, Malloy,” she said with a wan smile, “and you know how much I hate agreeing with you on anything.”

It took a moment for him to realize the emotion he was feeling was regret. As much as he wanted to protect her from danger, he also didn’t like the thought of never having her involved with his life again. Not that he had any right to be involved with her under any circumstances. This was really for the best. After what he’d done in the cab, he knew he could no longer be trusted to keep his feelings for her in check. At least she didn’t remember his indiscretion. He was sure now, because if she did, she wouldn’t still be so friendly to him.

He realized he was still holding her hand, and he released it. “Uh, I guess I should get back to work.”

“And I should go to the hospital to check on Mr. Prescott.”

“How is he?”

“He’s still alive. That’s always good.”

They’d run out of things to say, but Frank didn’t want to say good-bye. He was also acutely aware that he had no other choice. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, then. Unless something comes up, and you can’t make it,” he added quickly, giving her permission to cut him completely out of her life, if that’s what she wanted to do.

“Good day, Malloy,” she said and turned away.

She’d gone a few steps before he thought of something else. “Mrs. Brandt?”

She turned, an expectant look on her face.

“Tell Prescott I hope he’s feeling better.”

“I will,” she said. She started to turn away again, but stopped and looked back at him with a small grin. “And Malloy, after all we’ve been through, I think you should call me Sarah.”

Had she winked? Malloy was sure she’d winked just before she turned away again, but it was probably just a trick of the bright sunlight. Women like Sarah Brandt didn’t wink. But if she did wink, that meant… No, she couldn’t possibly remember. She wouldn’t even be speaking to him if she remembered.

Would she?

Frank had to admit he didn’t know. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. Just leave well enough alone, he told himself. And keep on pretending nothing untoward had happened. Unless she brought it up, of course, which she’d never do because she didn’t even remember.

By the time he’d settled all that in his mind, Sarah Brandt had rounded the corner and disappeared from sight. Frank made his way back to Mulberry Street.

The desk sergeant greeted him with the usual lack of enthusiasm and informed him that someone they’d locked up overnight wanted to see him.

“Says he has information you want,” the sergeant said.

“I don’t need any information,” Frank replied wearily. “I locked up the killer last night.”

“We told him, but he said it wasn’t about that case. Said it was something else, something real important, and you’d want to hear what he had to say.”

Since most of Frank’s cases were solved by some bum who wanted a bribe for turning in a friend, he figured he should at least hear what this fellow had to say. There was still that warehouse robbery he was working on. The owner had offered a big reward, but so far he hadn’t had any luck finding the missing merchandise. In cases like that, a lot of crooks didn’t even bother trying to fence the stolen goods. They’d just wait for the police detective to track them down, turn the merchandise over, and split the reward with him. Just another cost of doing business for the merchant, and everybody benefited.

Frank found the right cell, and at the sight of him, one of the prisoners inside hurried over to the bars. “Malloy, do you remember me?”

He was shabbily dressed, his hair long and greasy, his face small and sharp, like a weasel’s. “Finn, is it?” Frank asked.

“Finnegan,” he corrected with a grin that showed blackened teeth. “I heard you was asking around about a murder.”