Love's Betrayals (The Extraordinary Life of Amy Winston Book 2)

by Liza O'Connor

  “Tests?”

  “Amy had determined Catherine had a limited sense of smell and they were conducting tests to see what she could and could not smell when blindfolded.” He smiled at the memory. “It was a rather startling scene to come home to.”

  “This time from the house, was it more than six hours?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I will need the name of someone who can attest to your whereabouts. I do not require every hour accounted for. I only need alibis cutting the time into increments less than six hours. These witnesses’ names will be known only to my supervisor. I believe him to be discrete as myself.”

  “I cannot provide you any information right now, nor do I believe it will be forthcoming at a later date. My best advice is for you to keep me as a suspect, but to look to the estate for your true murderer…or murderess.”

  “You think it was the housekeeper then?”

  “I think it very likely, but it might have been the doctor as well. That town has an unholy propensity to take matters into their own hands and run the village and estate as they see fit.”

  Yardrow nodded. “I should speak to your butler now.”

  “What is the point, if I cannot account for my other hours?”

  “The point is, that I am here, and while you may decline to reply to my questions, my supervisors would think it very odd if I could not even get the butler to speak.”

  “Let me prepare him in advance.”

  “I prefer my witnesses unprepared.”

  Antonio sighed. “Then you will be returning to your supervisor without getting the butler’s statement. Dodson will not speak if he thinks his answers might harm me. And no threats of jail will loosen his tongue. Allow me, in your presence, to instruct him to assist you.”

  Antonio called in Dodson and explained the inspector was investigating a crime and needed to rule him out. “Since I am innocent of this crime, your honest and most accurate memory of when I left and returned this house two days ago will assist the inspector in closing this dead end. Please give him your fullest cooperation. If you believe other servants can assist, allow them to be interviewed as well.”

  With that instruction, Antonio said goodbye to Yardrow and wished him speed on finding the killer. Before leaving the house, he sought out Ann.

  He found her in the garden announcing accommodations for outstanding efforts in the battle of Thursday. One glance at his face and she handed the responsibilities over to Domnika and came to him.

  He informed her of the situation and advised her to leave Yardrow untouched. He had strong confidence that the inspector would find the true murderer soon enough. However, he needed to inform Chavier of the incident.

  She agreed and reluctantly returned to the battle celebration.

  ***

  When Yardrow climbed into his hired carriage, he was stunned to find a beautiful young lady seated within. “I beg your pardon ma’am, but have I the wrong carriage?” He climbed out, verifying the driver was the same who had brought him here, “Or have you?”

  “It is your carriage, but I needed to speak to you in private. Do you mind if we sit here and talk for a moment?”

  Yardrow ordered the driver to wait for his instructions. He entered the carriage and sat opposite the dark-haired beauty with the darkest green eyes. “And how may I help you, miss?”

  “I can stand as Antonio’s witness that he did not ride out to the Soundberry Estate two nights ago. I have sound proof.”

  “You would be Amy Winston, I presume.”

  “Yes, sir, I am. I was raised at Soundberry estate and I know the drive takes a full day, for my uncle often traveled back and forth to London.”

  “On horseback, it can be done in six hours.”

  “On horseback, the rider would return dusty and smelling of horse, especially if he ran it in six hours. Antonio came home at midnight and he smelled of cigar smoke and whiskey.”

  Yardrow smiled at her proof. “I appreciate your desire to stand witness, but his smell cannot be seen as proof.”

  She breathed in. “You were at the docks this morning, near fish and rotted apricots, possibly going through trash.”

  Yardrow stared at her in amazement. That was exactly where he had been and what he had done. However, before coming here he had washed and changed clothes. “You must have a person watching me. I have changed my clothes since this morning.”

  Instead of bursting into tears and pleas for her lover, as he expected, Amy nailed him with her intense, intelligent eyes. “You failed to clean your shoes, and I have a very acute sense of smell. You also use Belinger crème on your hair and your shirts are ironed with rose water, which leads me to think your wife truly likes you.”

  Yardrow smiled. “If you were a man, I would take you on as my apprentice. That was fine sleuthing.”

  “Then you will take it as proof? If you don’t wish to trust my sense of smell, the servant that acts as Antonio’s valet can attest his clothes were not dirty or dusty. In fact, the lazy fellow hung his suit back up in the closet. I could still smell the cigar smoke on the clothes today.”

  Yardrow smiled. “Now that is proof my supervisors will accept. If the valet can attest the suit Antonio wore today was the same he wore two days ago, and it has not been cleaned in between, then it will be enough to eliminate him as a likely candidate.”

  “Then let’s find him together, so you will not suspect me of telling him what to say. However, we cannot have Dodson attend, and you must assure the young man whatever he says will not get back to Dodson. He’d lie to keep his job.”

  Yardrow dismounted the carriage and helped Miss Winston out. Dodson was perplexed by her entry with Yardrow in tow. She assured him all was well, but to keep an eye on the front door.

  She led him through the house to tables in the back garden where the servants appeared to be having a strange picnic while small stern children guarded them with wooden rifles. Amy explained. “The Battle of Thursday has just ended, and for the first time the children have won, so they are very excited.” She approached one young soldier.

  “You’re too late to help the enemy,” the little fellow declared in a growl.

  “This is the Inspector General of the Army and he wants to interrogate Prisoner Edson.”

  The small boy studied the man suspiciously. “Do you have papers proving who you are?”

  Amy smiled. “Your badge should do.”

  Yardrow extracted a leather billfold containing his badge and handed it over to the boy, fearing the child would abscond with the treasure. He’d have a hell of a time explaining that to his supervisor.

  The boy slowly sounded out the word ‘inspector’ and then looked up at Yardrow in shock. “Blimey, you really are the Inspector General.”

  Yardrow snared his billfold from the boy’s hand and replaced it in his vest pocket. The soldiers released prisoner Edson, then Amy and the Inspector led him further into the garden, far away from Dodson’s view if he ceased watching the front door.

  Edson, so accustomed to the war games, did not realize Yardrow was a real inspector until Amy explained she needed him to answer all questions honestly and assured him nothing he said would ever get back to Dodson.

  She then let Yardrow take over the interview, although at times she seemed to struggle not to intervene. All he got for his troubles was Edson’s declaration that he couldn’t recall anything about three days ago, for he had been hit in the head during the battle today.

  Yardrow sighed and stood up to leave, but Amy placed her hand on his arm. “Please, Inspector, before you arrest him, please let me try. I am certain Edson did not steal the money from the purse left in the laundry room.”

  “I didn’t,” Edson agreed.

  “Then what have you been so cagey about?” Yardrow demanded.

  “I thought I was in trouble for not seeing Mr. Capella’s suit washed two days ago. I would have done so, but I was needed in the garden to set up for the Battle of Tuesday, and it re
ally didn’t need washing.”

  “And is that the suit Capella wore today?”

  “Yes, sir, and as you could see, it didn’t need washing, but Dodson would have fired me for sure. He’s called me down three times now and he says my next mistake is my last. I don’t want to be fired. This is the best house in London to work in. We actually get to have fun, lots of fun since the troop of little soldiers arrived.”

  Amy patted his arm. “It’s our secret, Edson. Neither of us will tell Dodson, but I told you that before, why didn’t you believe me?”

  “It wasn’t you I thought would tell Dodson, it was him in the bushes,” he whispered.

  Amy sniffed the air. “Gunter won’t tell either.”

  Yardrow stared at the bushes but could not see anyone. “How do you know someone is there?”

  “Because they always follow Miss Amy wherever she goes.”

  Amy explained, “Four of the Kings best men have protected me since I was five days old.”

  “The townspeople wanted to burn her at the stake, but I don’t know why they would,” Edson added.

  Amy shook her head for him not to say anymore.

  As she walked Yardrow across the garden towards the house, she spoke again. “Inspector, do you have any cases where people claimed they were under the thrall of someone else?”

  “All too frequently,” he replied. “It’s a very common excuse to blame behaviors on someone else.”

  “But have you had cases where you believed it might be true? Where a man or woman was so seductive that they could get the lover to do as they bid?”

  “I’ve had many cases where there has been influence, but a person always has control of their own actions.”

  “Could I possibly read your notes on the cases where this occurred?”

  “I’m sorry, but no.”

  “Because I am a young lady and should not read such things?” she asked in frustration.

  “Because my notes are not for public viewing. Only members of the Metropolitan Police and members of the law are allowed to see what is in an investigative file.”

  She sighed with resignation. “Do you remember if any of the perpetrators of the crime had an excellent sense of smell?”

  “No, I don’t recall, and I doubt such a detail would be in my notes.”

  “Oh.”

  He couldn’t help but feel he had disappointed her with his sloppy note taking. “May I ask why this topic interests you so much?”

  “I attended my first ball this last Monday and near the end I encountered a man named Count Velaski. Are you familiar with him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have crimes in which the criminal said the count had them in his thrall?”

  “No. I am familiar because of what occurred last year to seven young ladies. I trust you had the good sense to keep him at bay.”

  “I had no sense whatsoever from the moment he approached me. You are quite wrong about people always having the ability to control their actions. I was completely lost to the Count and I am convinced that it was due to my acute sense of smell. I know you are busy, but if I solve your crime as to who murdered Sicily, do you think you could use that ‘saved’ time to search your files and see if you did make note if any of the criminals had an acute sense of smell?” She then briefly explained her theory.

  “I will search my files,” he assured her. “But I will not take you to Soundberry Estate to solve the murder.”

  “Oh, my protectors wouldn’t let me return there even if I wished. The whole town thinks I’m a demon or a witch. They’d set me on fire upon sight. But I do know the people very well and I believe Sicily will have died in the same manner as my uncle. After all, if it works once, why not do it again?”

  He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to her. “I was not aware your uncle was murdered.”

  “That’s because it was declared a heart attack by Dr. Hamon. But it was poison. The town had decided my uncle was no longer in possession of his soul or else he would not protect a demon child as vigilantly as he did. Thus, to kill me, they first had to kill him.”

  “So, the town as a whole murdered your uncle?”

  “No. Mrs. Cole, the housekeeper, poisoned him and will have, no doubt, poisoned Sicily as well. I am surprised Dr. Hamon did not help her cover this murder as he did my uncle’s.”

  “He did. I found the death suspicious and had an autopsy performed by another doctor.”

  “Then it is the same,” she replied sadly and lowered her head.

  It took Yardrow a moment to realize this amazing young woman was crying. “Is Antonio the mastermind of this crime?”

  She looked up at him in shock. “Antonio? Good heavens, no. He worshipped my uncle. The person in charge, the person who planned this, with strong motives in each case, and with the lack of character that is required to do such a thing, can only be Nicolas. But he played his part so well, I’m sorry to say I even assisted him.”

  “I can see you are upset, but I need your input now. When I leave here, I am to head out to Soundberry.”

  She took him to the library and explained Nicolas’ motivation for wanting her uncle dead. “I believe his original motivation for killing Uncle John was Sicily. He had evidently lost her hand a year prior because he lacked a title and great wealth. Sicily’s pursuit of the other man came to naught and now that my uncle’s heart weakened, and the title looked to soon be his, she cast her thrall over him again. And I am certain her thrall was sexual in nature, for when she poisoned him with arsenic, his libido declined and suddenly, he could see what she was about.”

  Yardrow blinked in shock at hearing such a blunt discussion of sex and libido by a young lady.

  “When Uncle John’s heart improved under my care, Nicolas decided to speed my uncle’s death with poison. He made a pack with Mrs. Cole to kill my uncle.” She looked up at Yardrow with those clear intense eyes. “It’s taken me a very long time to realize Nicolas’ involvement. There were so many clues, but because I loved him, I refused to connect them together.”

  “What type of clues?”

  “There were little ones such as the fact he took three days to come once Uncle John died. In that time, the safe was robbed and the will was stolen, so I would never know Uncle John had left me two hundred thousand pounds and the estate of my choice. Without my protectors, I would have either been killed by the town or sold into the London slave market.

  “Upon finally arriving, he discovered that my protectors knew all about the will and the plans that had been set for me. So, he sent me to school as had been expected by my uncle. Before I left, I told him all about Mrs. Cole, including the fact she stole from the accounts and plotted to sell me as a slave. I had expected her to be fired once I was gone, but as you can see, she still remains there. In a short time, he married Sicily and began to drain my accounts and sell off all the properties. When it was discovered he had lost all my money to Sicily’s father, he was coerced into fulfilling the promises he had made to my uncle. He finally deeded me the winery, but somehow that went awry as well.

  “When I had no further money in my account for school I sent him a letter letting him know when I would arrive in London. He was at the port, waiting for me, but later he claimed he never received the letter.” She sighed. “In retrospect, I see he is a great liar, but at the time I thought him a poor and inexperienced liar. I blamed all his faults upon Sicily, and I assisted him in killing her.”

  “Exactly how?” Yardrow asked, knowing he would never have another chance to get such an honest confession from her, if it were a confession. He had trouble believing this young woman could harm a fly.

  “Nicolas had us convinced that all his misdeeds were caused and controlled by Sicily. I had even found the medical explanation to prove it. Sicily was trying to kill him with poison. We had to do something quick before she succeeded. My protectors suggested he kill her, but Nicolas said he could not kill the woman he loved. I agreed with him, so Domnika
and I thought of a solution where if Sicily died, it would not be on his hands. We would send her back to Soundberry and at best she would be safely contained in a drugged state, and at worst, Mrs. Cole would poison her, so the Earl could find and marry a proper wife.”

  “And that is the extent of your guilt?” Yardrow asked, relieved to find her guilty of nothing.

  “No, the worst part is I brought Antonio and my protectors into the scheme, putting them at grave danger for being charged with the murder. When Antonio returned from taking Sicily to the estate, he mentioned they did not dare leave Sicily unattended in fear that she would be murdered during their stay. They even locked her in the room when they left and then returned the key through Father Duncan to give them an eight-hour lead time before any poison could be administered and blamed on them.”

  Amy gripped her hands in anguish.

  “I expected to hear of her death in the following days, but nothing happened. It was odd. It is not like Mrs. Cole to give up once she sets her mind to a task. The only reason I can imagine she would refrain is because she had received written instructions. If those instructions exist, you will find them under the third floorboard in the right-hand corner of her room.”

  “Why would he pull back? Why would he not let Mrs. Cole finish the job?” Yardrow asked.

  Amy closed her eyes. “I think I may know that as well. I heard you tell Antonio that Sicily had died two days ago, and that Nicolas sought a new bride.”

  “You overheard my conversation with Antonio?”

  She nodded. “I stood outside by the window. I have very good hearing.”

  Yardrow gave her his sternest look.

  “Do not try to intimidate me,” she warned. “Gunter is a thousand times more frightening. Besides, had I not heard that particular comment, I would not have realized the horrible truth as to why he allowed Sicily to continue to live.”

  “I wait to hear it.”