In the Shadow of Gotham by Stefanie Pintoff

sure—but not like this time. There had been barroom fights, petty thefts, and more property damage than you would care to pay for. But no harm was done that money could not fix. And his behavior was not so extreme that it couldn’t be sugarcoated within the Wallingfords’ social circle as simply that of a young man sowing his wild oats.” His tone became sober. “The incident three years ago was different, and Wallingford was beside himself with worry.”
    I listened, becoming more interested in spite of myself.
    Alistair gripped the sides of his seat to keep his balance as the wheels of the cab rattled violently against the cobblestones. Dobson’s steeper roads were all cobblestone, which helped the horses to keep their footing, but made for a bumpy ride.
    “Michael is the youngest son of Louise Wallingford Fromley by her second husband.” He shook his head and grimaced. “Awful woman—so domineering and loud, both husbands undoubtedly hastened to the grave just to get away from her. She nonetheless did a fine job raising her four oldest children, whose father was Earl Wallingford. But for some reason, it was difficult with Michael, right from the beginning. ‘Even in the womb,’ she told me, though of course she was being typically melodramatic. Still, as a small child, he so terrorized the nannies who cared for him that none lasted more than a month or two.”
    “How did he get on with his father and his older siblings?” I asked.
    “His father died a few months after he was born, and when Fromley was very young, his older siblings were all out of the house. Certain problems arose when his half brother took over the family home and moved back with his wife and two young daughters. Louise of course lived there until her own death, and initially Wallingford was quite willing for Michael to stay on. But Michael began to exhibit disturbing behavior. For example, he had strange moods, in which he would climb into a closet and sit as though in a trance. He also set fire to the drawing room curtains. It was only by good fortune that the house was saved from burning to the ground. Wallingford was horrified, and adamant that the boy should not come in contact with his young daughters.”
    Alistair sighed before continuing. “Young Fromley was sent to live with Louise’s spinster sister, a Miss Lizzie Dunn, until a suitable boarding school could be found; when it was, he returned to his aunt during school vacations. She was a timid, mousy woman unprepared to give him the kind of disciplineand structure he needed. But then again, perhaps we cannot fault her too much. Neither his overbearing mother nor a succession of strict boarding schools boasted better success. He amassed quite a disciplinary record for starting fires and assaulting others. He was expelled after he menaced another student with a knife. It was terribly embarrassing for the Wallingfords, but they hoped he would eventually grow out of it. They hung on to that hope right up until Michael was arrested in October 1902 for attempted murder, accused of knifing a prostitute named Catherine Smedley and setting her room ablaze.”
    “I see. Now he had done real harm and was facing serious jail time.”
    “Exactly. As far as the prosecution was concerned, it was a weak case with considerable doubt as to Michael’s guilt. While he was the last person identified as talking with the victim before the attack, no one could swear he was the man who accompanied her up to her room. Though the victim recovered, the experience had affected her memory, and she was never able to identify her attacker.” He looked at me with what appeared to be genuine regret. “Quite frankly, even if the witnesses had been able to testify with greater certainty, it would have made little difference. You might not need a choirboy to put someone like Michael Fromley away, but you need a witness more credible than you’ll find in a brothel.”
    We continued to talk as we arrived at