The Body in the Garden

by Katharine Schellman

  Jem had started his career, such as it was, as a climbing boy, cleaning out flues in the homes of the rich. “Awful,” he said, shuddering. “Got stuck up a chimbley more than once, but the devil I worked for lit a fire underneath to get me out. Left half m’skin behind a time or two.” Once he had grown too big for chimneys, he ran errands down by the docks, and had briefly considered a career in the navy. “Mum said my da were a navy man,” he added with some pride. “Lascar, he were, one of them Indian sailors. But I couldn’t join up; Mum were ill too often, she needed lookin’ after.” Once he had saved up enough from the docks, he purchased suitable clothes secondhand and convinced the porter at Lacey and West to hire him for odd jobs and delivering messages.

  “Where is your mother now?” Jack asked.

  Jem shrugged. “Still livin’ in the Dials. When I save enough, we’ll move to Covent Garden, maybe even Clerkenwell. Mum’ll like that,” he added, a little defensively.

  “I am sure she will,” Jack agreed, impressed by the boy’s tenacity. But something uncomfortable had occurred to him as they talked. “Listen, lad, it might be better not to help me after all. I’d not want you to lose your position on account of me.”

  “D’you think Lacey is up to something cagey? He had something to do wiv this murder?”

  “Something to do with it, yes.” Jack hesitated again. “You delivered a message to the War Office. Is that something you do often?”

  Jem nodded. “Lacey’s got contracts wiv ’em, I think. He buys supplies here in England and arranges for ’em to be shipped to France and all, to the army.”

  Jack’s jaw tightened. Miss Oswald’s guess had been right, it seemed, which meant that something about Mr. Lacey’s dealings with the War Office were not honest.

  “Don’t I gotta help you, sir?” Jem asked, eyes wide. “If Lacey’s a villain, then what would I be if I didn’t help?”

  Jack still hesitated, but if he was to get the information Mrs. Adler needed—and keep her from waltzing into danger herself—he had to use the resources available. With a sigh he nodded his agreement, frowned Jem’s delighted whoop into silence, and pulled a shilling from his pocket. “If you help me out,” he cautioned, holding the coin where the boy’s wide eyes could see it, “you do what I ask and no more. I’ll not have you getting yourself in trouble on account of me, understand?”

  “Yessir,” Jem said, breathless with excitement. “What d’you want me to do?”

  “I need a list,” Jack said, setting the shilling down on the table and sliding it toward the boy. “A list of names that you know Mr. Lacey has worked with, either in Parliament or the War Office.” He smiled at the eager face in front of him. “You are a clever lad, Jem. I am sure you can find what I need. But,” he added sharply as the boy puffed up with pleasure at the praise. “Do not do anything else.”

  “D’you mean like the names of the gents what got him his contracts? What he writes to in the War Office? Or Parliament?”

  Jack raised his brows. “Well … yes, that is exactly what I mean. Get me the information and bring it to me yourself. I lodge at the Albany, number five.”

  “Don’t need to.”

  Jack paused, tankard halfway raised. “What do you mean?”

  Jem shrugged. “Only two names as fit the bill.”

  “And you know those two names?”

  “Yessir.” The boy grinned. “I keeps me eye on things, I do. How else can I learn anything about business?”

  Jack leaned forward. “What are the names?”

  * * *

  Twenty minutes later, long after Jem had scampered off with a promise to report anything else he learned and already anticipating a scolding from the porter, Jack was still staring across the room, eyes narrowed as he thought. With a sigh, he waved down the publican and ordered another pint, turning over the possibilities in his mind.

  He couldn’t help the way his thoughts turned to Mrs. Adler, wondering what she would make of Jem’s information. He had agreed to help with her scheme to make up for his boorish behavior and keep her safe. He owed that much to Freddy, now that she planned to dash around London on her own. But the chase had become interesting in its own right, something he had not expected. And then there was Lily herself: dryly witty, carefully controlled, impressively intelligent. In his mind, she had always been the wife of his friend. But at some point, he realized, he had begun to think of her as a friend in her own right.

  Jack settled back. And he had thought being stuck ashore would be dull.

  CHAPTER 12

  Lily was going over the week’s menu with Mrs. Carstairs when the sharp, quick knocking began. It was a demanding, slightly frantic sound that echoed all the way up to the second floor. Frowning—and more than a little worried—Lily set aside her task and hurried downstairs.

  Mr. Carstairs had just opened the front door, and Lily was greeted by the sight of Miss Oswald sweeping into the hall. “Mrs. Adler!”

  “Miss Oswald.” Lily dismissed Carstairs with a nod. “Whatever is the matter?”

  The girl fidgeted with her gloves and glanced nervously after the servant. “Is there any word from the captain? I know it is early, but …”

  Lily glanced around. “Did you come without a chaperone?”

  “I sent my maid home with the carriage. Aunt Haverweight thinks I’m out visiting. Which I am, as you see. Is there any news?”

  Lily shook her head. “It’s not been even a day yet.”

  “Yes but—” The girl took a deep breath. “Of course. I know it is too soon to expect anything; it is just that—”

  “It is just that you are impatient to discover what happened to your friend,” Lily said gently. “I understand, of course. And believe me, I am just as eager for news as you are.” She glanced toward the front door. “Since you are here, would you care to go for a stroll? It is a lovely day outside. And,” she added wryly, “I fear you may wear a hole in my carpet if I keep you inside.”

  Miss Oswald glanced down at the floor, as if she had only just realized the agitated way she was pacing back and forth. Her brow wrinkled with embarrassment, and she sighed. “It would do me good, I suppose.”

  Lily called for Anna to bring her hat and gloves, then dismissed her maid, saying she and her guest were going to walk toward the park. Green Park, quieter and more pastoral than the popular promenade grounds of Hyde Park, was a mere step away from Half Moon Street, so none of the servants looked askance at their mistress’s desire to walk there unaccompanied.

  Lily expected Miss Oswald to return to discussing the murder as soon as they were out the door, but she was not given the chance. No sooner had they stepped into the street than a voice called out, “Mrs. Adler!”

  Lily turned, unable to hide her surprise at finding Jack standing only steps away, one hand raised awkwardly toward his hat, frowning at her in confusion. His eyes went past her, and as he caught sight of Miss Oswald, his frown deepened. “What are you doing?”

  “We are going for a walk towards Green Park.” Lily frowned at him. “What are you doing on my doorstep?”

  His expression turned grim. “I have news.”

  Lily wanted to ask Jack immediately what he had learned. But they were standing in the middle of the street, in the middle of the day, and no doubt would begin attracting attention soon. “Come inside, please.”

  Jack leaned over as she ushered them up the steps. “Cheer up, Mrs. Adler,” he murmured. “It’s not all bad news.”

  Carstairs was still in the hall when she opened the door and ushered her guests inside, but his only sign of surprise at her quick return was a slight raise of his eyebrows. “Mrs. Adler, welcome back. Will you and your guests require anything?”

  “No, we will show ourselves into the parlor,” Lily said, trying not to sound too impatient. She waited only for the parlor door to close before demanding, “Tell me. You may enjoy the suspense, Captain, but I assure you we do not.”

  “Very well.” Jack took a seat and lean
ed back in his chair. “This morning I learned of Mr. Lacey’s principal contacts in Whitehall and Parliament. Lord John Walter was indeed one of the names passed on to me. It seems he is the member of Parliament principally responsible for overseeing the money that pays for contracts through the War Office.”

  Miss Oswald let out a small gasp and sank onto a settee.

  Lily stared. “I do not know how you define bad news, captain, but—”

  “But his was not the only name given to me. The second one belongs to the man in Whitehall who arranges those contracts. He was the one responsible for giving Lacey the job. And it so happens that we know this man was at the Walters’ ball that evening.”

  “Please say the other name is Reggie Harper.” Lily smiled grimly. “I should dearly love to see him locked away for murder.”

  That made Jack pause. “Reggie Harper?”

  Lily shook her head. “Pay me no mind. My dislike of him has nothing to do with this matter. The second name?”

  “It is odd you said that, Mrs. Adler,” Jack said slowly. “Because the second name is General Alfred Harper.”

  Lily dropped into a chair, mind working rapidly. “That … that could be …”

  “Who is General Harper?” Miss Oswald asked, looking from Lily to Jack and frowning. “I do not know of him.”

  “Truly?” Lily was surprised. “I always thought him a very well-known figure.” She considered, then added, “Though perhaps my perspective is biased, as I attended school with his niece, Miss Harper. She was there at the party as well. Do you remember, Captain?” At Jack’s blank look, she added, “She was the one who fetched Serena.”

  “Ah, the jilted spinster?”

  Lily smacked his shoulder. “There is no need to be unkind,” she said. “If you were female, you would be quite the spinster by now, too.”

  “Luckily I had the fortune to be born a man.” Jack grinned, earning himself another smack. “All right, I apologize, lay off abusing me.”

  “Will you two be serious?” Miss Oswald scowled fiercely at them both. “What should I know about the general?”

  “He began his military career when he was quite young, fighting against the Colonies during their rebellion,” Lily said. “And he achieved a good deal of distinction on the Continent. He and Miss Harper have settled in London since then. Her brother”—Lily scowled at the thought of Reggie Harper—“also lives with them from time to time.” She cast Miss Oswald a sideways glance, not wanting to say too much in front of Jack. “I believe you had the misfortune of meeting Mr. Harper that evening.”

  “Mr. Harper? Oh. Oh.” Miss Oswald’s eyes narrowed, and she drew in a shaky breath before she regained control of herself. “Yes. I do remember him. He did not make a good impression.”

  “The nephew is a bit of a peacock,” Jack agreed, not noticing or not commenting on the tension running between the two women. “But the old fellow was a war hero. And I seem to remember, Mrs. Adler, that when we encountered his niece, shortly after Mr. Finch was shot, she was looking for her uncle.”

  Lily sat up sharply. “Yes. I believe she was.”

  She was silent a moment, trying to remember her conversation with Miss Harper that night. Miss Oswald, though, had another question in mind.

  “We only just decided to look into Lacey and West yesterday. How on earth did you find anything out so quickly?”

  “Perhaps the good captain spent his night burgling the firm’s offices?” Lily raised her brows at Jack, who was looking pleased with himself. “Dressed all in black, perhaps, and with a domino and mask to complete the disguise?”

  Jack rolled his eyes. “Men of the navy do have many talents, but alas, I learned my information in a far more conventional fashion. I made the acquaintance of a … person who works for the firm. He gave me the information.”

  Lily ignored the slight pause in his speech. Though being kept in the dark irritated her, the source of his information was not immediately important. “Shame. I should dearly have loved to see you disguised and creeping about London.”

  “You read too many novels,” he said severely.

  The corners of Lily’s eyes crinkled with humor. “I read just the right number of novels.” A moment later, though, her expression grew thoughtful. “Two names for us to investigate.”

  “Investigate?” Miss Oswald repeated, her eyes wide. “How do you plan to do so?”

  Lily considered the question, rising to pace around the room. “The first thing to discover is whether either of them had an opportunity to meet with Mr. Finch. There is a window where both of them had time to do so. You could not find Lord Walter in the card room, Captain, but that does not mean he was in the garden. And Miss Harper may have lost track of her uncle, but that does not mean he disappeared entirely. If we can account for the movements of one during that time—”

  “Then he cannot have sneaked off to the garden, and certainly could not have had time to shoot Augustus.” Miss Oswald finished the thought, her voice trembling. Lily watched, concerned but also thoughtful, as the girl took a deep breath, gathered her composure, and asked, “How do you plan to find that out? I don’t suppose the captain has any more clever ideas for ferreting out information?”

  Jack grinned. “I do as Mrs. Adler requires in all these matters.”

  Lily stopped in front of the fireplace, frowning as she thought things through. The truth was, she had very little idea where to begin. But she had confidence in her own mind—a next step was sure to present itself if she thought it over. Unfortunately, at that moment there was a polite knock on the parlor door and her butler entered.

  “I beg your pardon for intruding, Mrs. Adler, but there has been an incident in the kitchen. It seems Mrs. Carstairs fell down the stairs, and her ankle may be injured. Do I have your permission to send for a doctor?”

  “Damnation.” The curse slipped out before she could stop herself. Ignoring her butler’s raised brows—the only sign of surprise he ever seemed to permit himself—Lily nodded. “Yes, of course, do so at once.”

  “There is also …” Carstairs hesitated. “I wonder if you would speak to Mrs. Carstairs.”

  It was an odd request, and even odder coming from her inscrutable butler. But he would not ask without a reason, so Lily stood and nodded. “Of course, I shall come directly.” She turned to her guests. “Captain, if you would see Miss Oswald safely back to her aunt’s house, I would be grateful. I would take you myself, but …”

  “There is no need, Mrs. Adler,” said Miss Oswald with a poorly hidden grimace that made Lily want to smile. Jack was the sort of bachelor young ladies swooned over and mamas approved of, but Miss Oswald looked unhappily resigned to the prospect of his company. “I am sure Captain Hartley and I won’t come to blows in the course of a brief carriage ride.”

  “As if I would come to blows with a lady, however long the ride might be.” Jack looked affronted.

  Miss Oswald rolled her eyes, and the childish expression made her look far younger than she generally did. “It was a figure of speech, sir. And in any case, you shouldn’t be so quick to say so. My father taught me to box.”

  “Your father is a singularly liberal man,” Jack muttered, gathering up his hat and walking stick.

  Miss Oswald, in the middle of pulling on her gloves, paused. “Obviously so, or I should not be here at all.”

  “Be on your guard, both of you,” Lily cautioned, interrupting their brewing argument. “If there is a murderer wandering the ballrooms of Mayfair, you can be certain he shall be on his.”

  * * *

  Any confusion downstairs had been wrangled into submission by the time Lily entered the kitchens. Mrs. Carstairs sat polishing the silver with her foot propped up, Mr. Carstairs had gone for a doctor, and the remains of a porcelain teapot were gathered on the table.

  “Mrs. Carstairs, what happened?”

  “Oh, ma’am, I’m so dreadfully sorry for the bother.” The plump woman made as if to rise, but Lily waved her b
ack down before taking a seat herself. “I was so startled is all, and when I tripped, I lost my grip on the pot, which I know you will have to take out of my wages—”

  “I am not worried about the china. I only wish to make sure you are well.”

  “Mr. Carstairs is making a lot of fuss over nothing, I declare. Insisting on a doctor, and getting you involved—”

  “I would rather fuss over nothing than ignore something important,” Lily said, kind but firm. “Tell me why he is worried.”

  Mrs. Carstairs sighed. “I was bringing up a fresh pot of tea, but when I was halfway up, I thought maybe I should be bringing you something to eat as well. I turned back for the scones, as I had just finished baking them, and …” In spite of her insistence that it was nothing, the housekeeper shuddered. “I thought I saw someone at the back door, Mrs. Adler, a terribly tall man peering in through the top window, with dark hair. Gave me a fair fright, it did, and I tripped and lost my balance.” Mrs. Carstairs shook her head. “Being silly, I was, but no matter now. Dinner will be easy to finish up, and I’ll be right as rain in no time.”

  “Do you think someone was trying to break in?” Lily eyed the door.

  “Mrs. Adler, don’t you go confusing real life with them novels.” Mrs. Carstairs looked severe, and Lily nearly blushed, thinking of the copy of The Sylph on her nightstand. “I shouldn’t worry about it. If I saw anyone, which I’m not certain I did, likely it was the rag-and-bone man come early, and him scared off by me shrieking like a banshee.”

  Lily would have pressed the issue, but at that moment Carstairs returned with the doctor in tow. Lily rose and held out her hand. “Good afternoon, Doctor. I am Mrs. Adler. My housekeeper, Mrs. Carstairs, seems to have twisted her ankle falling down the stairs.”