City of Darkness and Light by Rhys Bowen Page A

whim.”
    She led me back down the stairs to an elegant sitting room where coffee and cakes were waiting for us. To have gone from bleak despair to this in a matter of hours was almost too much to bear. Dodo was the soul of kindness, trying to press so many items of clothing on me that I was mortified with embarrassment, feeling rather like the beggar at the gates.
    “Really all I need is enough to tide me over,” I said. “I didn’t have this many dresses to begin with. My husband is only a policeman, you know.”
    “But I want to give them to you,” she said. “Humor me, Molly dearest. Don’t you see—then I’ll have a splendid excuse to tell Alfred I have absolutely nothing to wear and he’ll have to increase my dress allowance.”
    She had a maid carry armfuls to my room, adding shoes, hats, even a fur stole to the pile.
    “I’m sure I’ll be able to go shopping soon,” I said, “so I’ll only need clothes for a day or two.”
    “Don’t be silly. Of course you can’t go shopping,” Dodo said. “My brother says you must remain in complete seclusion so that nobody knows where you are. A matter of life and death, Molly.”
    Privately I thought that the way Dodo chatted incessantly meant that she would probably divulge my presence to her friends. I could just hear her telling the thrilling tale of how she rescued the poor woman whose house was destroyed by a bomb. But I also decided that none of her friends was likely to have connections to an Italian East Side gang. However I did see her point about going shopping. The department stores that stocked the kind of clothes I could afford were on busy streets and there was always a chance I’d be noticed.
    Later that day I was outfitted, fed Liam, then watched him and little Alfred crawling around on the nursery rug, eyeing each other with interest. As I stood there my gaze was drawn to a picture on the nursery wall. It was a beautiful girl of around eight or nine, sitting on a rock beside the ocean with a shell on her lap. She was looking out to sea with wide blue eyes and her light blonde hair blew out in the breeze. She looked so ethereal that it was almost like seeing a supernatural being. And somewhere in the back of my mind, I recalled Sid’s mention of the painter Reynold Bryce. And Daniel’s remark, “Didn’t he do all those portraits of the angelic child, copies of which now grace half the nurseries in America?”
    “Is that one of Reynold Bryce’s paintings?”
    Dodo looked pleased. “Why, yes. It is. Only a copy of course. The real ones are all in famous museums, but it’s so lovely, isn’t it? Cuddles’s godmother gave it to him as a christening present.”
    As the dinner hour approached Dodo insisted in coming up with me to select a dress to wear for dinner and chose something grander than I’d ever have considered for myself—also with a lot more froufrou. She even insisted on lending me her pearls as they completed the outfit so well. I half expected the master of the house to query why I was wearing his wife’s dress and his wife’s pearls when I was introduced to him that evening, but he showed no indication that anything was amiss. He greeted me civilly enough and expressed condolences about my unfortunate current state, but I wondered if he had actually been consulted about my stay and would have approved of it. I definitely got the impression that he would not have been as generous with his wife’s possessions as she had been. As we sat at dinner the first question he asked was how long I thought I might be staying.
    “Only until alternative arrangements can be made, Mr. Phillips,” I said.
    “Where do you think you will go?” he asked.
    I decided not to mention France. “My husband wants me far away from the city.”
    “Very wise.” He looked relieved. “You can’t be too careful. Who would ever have thought that these ruffians would dare to strike in the middle of New York City? Too many immigrants these days,