by C. J. Archer
Nell opened one eye, saw that Matt wasn't standing over her anymore, and sat up. "My brother left me. You telling me he's dead?"
"You know he is," Duke said.
I shook my head at Duke and he clamped his lips shut. "We know Wilson was the subject of a medical experiment that went wrong," I said. Nell did not look surprised or try to refute my claim. "He died in Dr. Millroy's surgery," I forged on. "A few days later, Dr. Millroy decided to find out if the man he thought was homeless and alone in fact had a family. That led him here, to you." I went to sit on the edge of the bed but Matt pulled me roughly back, out of her reach. Did he think she would attack me? She was bedridden, for goodness’ sake.
"You couldn't quite believe what Dr. Millroy told you, could you?" I went on. "You'd finally had word about your missing brother, after he walked out on you, only to be informed of his death, which came at the hand of the man who brought the news. Did Dr. Millroy offer his sincerest apologies and perhaps money to compensate for your loss? Is that what happened, Mrs. Sweet?"
"It's Miss Sweet." She sniffed and wiped her nose on her shoulder. "The doctor came here, that much is true. All sorrowful about what he'd done, like you say. He gave me all the money he had on him. It weren't much, what with my baby starving and me not able to find the good customers like Wilson could. He had a knack for finding 'em, he did. I couldn't, not when I had to stay here and take care of my Jack."
"So you killed the doctor when he left," Willie said. "Out of revenge for killing your brother."
Nell pushed herself forward and stabbed a shaky finger at Willie. "A man killed him! You ask around. There was a witness, a boy. He'll tell you. A man was seen leaving Bright Court, not a woman. Go on. Go ask him."
"He's dead," Matt said.
"His sister ain't. Ask her. Them two were thick as thieves, the little beggars. He would have told her everything he saw that night. She lives here still. Go on, ask!"
Maisie had already told us the same thing. Her brother had seen a man walk away from the scene. So if it wasn't Nell, then the police must have been right all along, and it was just an opportunistic theft that ended up in murder. No belongings had been found on Millroy's person, so theft was a certainty. It was disheartening. We'd taken several small steps forward only to be shoved back to the starting line. Matt, however, had a curious look in his eyes.
"Women can dress as men," Willie said, indicating her own attire.
Nell wrinkled her nose. "Thought you were a pretty boy."
"Boys don't have Colts." Willie opened her coat to reveal the gun strapped to her hip.
I groaned. We'd forgotten to check her for weapons in our rush to leave.
Nell sank into the pillow, pulling the covers up. "He was tall," she said quickly. "Go ask Maisie, she'll tell you what her brother saw. The man leaving here was tall. I ain't tall. If one of you helps me up, I can show you."
Matt took my hand. "India, come with me. The three of you stay here. Willie, don't shoot anyone."
"Damn it," Willie muttered.
Matt and I almost bumped into Mary standing in the hall, wringing her hands in her apron. She shied away from us and lifted the apron to her mouth to cover her gasp.
"It's all right, Mary," I said, patting her shoulder. "No one will come to harm." I hoped I sounded convincing. I wasn't entirely sure of anyone's safety now that I'd seen Willie's gun.
Outside, Matt nodded in the direction of the copper sitting idle over a brazier. The last time we'd come to Bright Court, a woman had stood there doing laundry. She'd told us that Maisie couldn't be believed.
I clutched Matt's arms, turning him to face me. "I know what you're going to tell me," I said, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice. "Maisie's a liar."
That quirk of a smile appeared again, I was pleased to see. I thought his hope had vanished entirely. "Let's find out, shall we?"
We'd seen Maisie's children when we entered Bright Court, and the squabbling siblings could now be heard through the thin walls of their tenement. Matt knocked but it was some time before Maisie answered the door. Tired eyes flared momentarily upon seeing us but quickly faded again.
She folded her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"
"I want the truth this time," Matt said. "What did your brother really see the night Dr. Millroy died?"
"I ain't got nothing more to add to what I already told you." She went to shut the door but Matt wedged his foot in the gap.
He pulled coins out of his pocket. "The truth, Maisie."
She eyed the coins and licked her lips, as if she could taste the food they could buy. Then she glanced past him to Nell's door and shook her head. No one living in a miserable Whitechapel tenement with hungry mouths to feed refused money unless they were scared.
"Nell paid your brother to lie to the police, didn't she?" Matt pressed. "He witnessed her kill Dr. Millroy so she paid him to make up the story about seeing a tall man leave. She threatened him too, didn't she?"
She pushed against the door but Matt still held it open.
"There's no need to fear Nell now," I told her. "She's an old woman. She can't harm you."
"It's not Nell what worries me," she said, some of the wind knocked out of her sails. "It's her son."
"Has he threatened you lately?" Matt asked.
She hesitated then nodded.
"Do you know where he lives or works?"
She shook her head. "He comes here sometimes to visit her. He brings money and sweets. He's good to her but he hates visiting. He thinks he's above us because he left here and got all respectable. But he ain't better than us. He's the lowest of the low." Her mouth attempted a grin but she must have been out of practice because it was twisted, strained. "He might look like an angel but he's an abomination."
"Abomination?" I prompted.
Her lips flattened. "I've said too much. Leave me be." She put out her palm and Matt paid her, despite not receiving direct answers to his questions.
He stepped back and she slammed the door in his face. "It's as much of an answer as we needed," he said. "The boy lied. Nell lied."
We trudged back across the court to Nell's house and let ourselves in. Mary still stood in the hall outside Nell's room, and she still looked scared out of her wits. I couldn't blame her. Fury darkened Matt's face. If I didn't know him, I'd be scared too.
He marched into the bedroom. "I know you killed Dr. Millroy," he said, his voice pitched low. Beside me, Mary leaned forward, straining to hear. "I don't care that you killed him, Nell. I just want his diary."
I could not see Nell's reaction from where I stood and all I could hear was silence.
"Where is it?" Matt growled.
"I don't have it," Nell shot back.
"Did you throw it out? Burn it?"
"I don't have it," Nell said, louder. "I can't remember what I did with it."
"Duke, Cyclops, help me turn the place inside out. Willie, don't let Nell out of that bed."
Mary blinked teary eyes at me. "What's happening? What are they doing?"
I linked my arm with hers. "Come with me to the kitchen and we'll make tea."
"Oi!" Nell cried. "What're you doing? Leave my things alone, you bloody pirate!"
We left the sounds of the search behind and entered the kitchen. It appeared to serve a dual purpose as Mary's bedroom. A small bed, which didn't look big enough for her, was tucked into the corner, a carpet bag at its foot probably housing the maid's meager possessions. The bed was made neatly, and every surface of the kitchen had been scrubbed clean. The beginnings of a meal were being assembled on the table.
She put the kettle on the stove with shaking hands and produced cups made from good china, better than I expected to see in a Whitechapel kitchen. But each one had a chip or crack and there were only three. It didn't matter. The others would not be having tea.
"Tell me about Nell," I said. She didn't hear me at first, so I laid my hand on her arm and repeated myself when she looked at me. She was youn
g, probably not even twenty, and her hearing difficulty must be an impediment to finding better work.
"She's not so bad, now she don't get out of bed much," Mary said with a glance toward the door. "I take care of her, do the washing, help her in and out of bed, cook and clean. She don't eat much so there ain't a lot to do. I just got to be company for her."
"Does she have many visitors?"
"Just Mr. Sweet, her son. She ain't got no friends and the neighbors don't call."
"Tell me about Mr. Sweet."
"He ain't so bad. He don't take his liberties with me like my last employer, and he don't beat me. He's nice to look at too." She smiled. "Miss Sweet tells me he gets his looks from his father, but I hear she were pretty in her day too, all fair hair and good bones."
"Where is it?" Matt's shout echoed down the corridor to us.
Mary shrank into herself, and no amount of comforting brought her out again. Not when sounds of the search came closer. When Cyclops reached us, Mary whimpered at the sight of him.
"Let's take the tea into Miss Sweet's room," I said cheerfully. I helped her assemble the tea things on a tray and carried it to the bedroom.
She stuck closely to my heels and jumped at the slamming of a drawer.
"This ain't right," Nell protested as we entered. "It's a cruel way to treat an old lady. You get your man to stop this instant, Miss, or I'll scream the place down until the constables get here."
"I'm sure the police will be happy to hear that you killed Dr. Millroy twenty-seven years ago," I said.
Mary gasped. Fortunately she had not been holding the tray or she probably would have dropped it. "Killed?"
"Be quiet, you stupid girl," Nell spat. "Pour the tea. Where's my flask? For God's sake, Mary, my flask!"
Mary went to leave again but Matt blocked her exit. "No one leaves this room until we've finished our search." He looked to Willie. She gave him a nod and then he left.
"Sit on the bed, Mary," I said, patting the mattress near Nell's feet. "It'll be all right. It's almost over."
They'd finished searching the bedroom, leaving only us four women. They'd left the room as neat and tidy as when we'd entered, although the rumpled bedcovers were an indication of their thoroughness.
"Have you ever seen a diary here?" I asked Mary.
She shook her head. Nell had not threatened or prompted her. If the maid hadn't seen it then it was very well hidden or it was no longer here.
My heart sank. The possibility that it had been destroyed was high.
"All this trouble," Nell grumbled into her teacup. "My bloody useless brother is dead and he's still causing me grief."
Useless. She'd used that word to describe her son's father too. Perhaps it was a coincidence, and she'd had two useless men in her life back then, but I wasn't one to put much stock in coincidence. But if not a coincidence, then her brother and the father of her son were one and the same.
They'd committed incest and the result had been the child, Jack.
I pressed a hand to my stomach, feeling somewhat ill at the thought. I pushed the nausea aside and tried to think. Maisie had called Jack an abomination. Because she knew, or suspected, he was the result of incest?
Nell told Mary her son was fair and handsome like his father, and yet she'd been fair and handsome herself. Perhaps brother and sister looked alike so naturally their child inherited those traits.
Could that be why Wilson Sweet left? Could he have felt guilt, or disgust, at his own actions? The birth of their child could have brought on all manner of emotions, driving him to lose his mind and walk away. That's why there was some confusion about whether he still had a family or not. He did, but he'd chosen to distance himself from them.
"Miss?" Mary said, peering closely at me. "You all right? You look white as a sheet."
"We need that diary," I said weakly to Nell. "If we don't get it, someone close to me will die. The secret formula for a medicine is in there, one that Dr. Millroy perfected and wrote down. If we can't make that medicine…" I choked on the clog of tears in my throat. "Please. Did you destroy the diary?"
Something in my voice or words must have got through the hard shell Nell had built around herself. Her face softened, her gaze lowered. Her hands trembled so much the cup and saucer were in danger of developing another chip.
"It's not destroyed but it's not here," she said.
I almost cried in relief. "Where is it?"
She shook her head and tried to sip but spilled the tea over the sides of the cup.
Willie pulled out her gun. Mary screamed, and I quickly wrapped my arm around her shoulders and shushed her until she quieted.
Matt came running. "Willie! Lower your weapon!"
"She says it's not here," Willie said, not putting the gun away or taking her eyes off Nell. "So where is it? Where's the diary?"
"I won't say." Nell thrust out her chin. "So shoot me. Go on."
Willie cocked the gun. "Why do you care so much about the goddamned diary?"
"She doesn't," I said. "It's not the diary she's protecting."
"It's her son," Matt said, entering the room.
Nell wasn't very good at hiding her reactions and she gave her answer away with a twitch of her shoulders and a sharp intake of breath. She was protecting Jack. "I ain't," she said, not convincing me.
"Where is he?" Matt pressed. "Where can we find him?"
Nell made a great show of setting her teacup in the saucer. "Like I said, I ain't telling you nothing."
Matt slammed the wall, punching a hole through the plaster. "Where the hell is he?"
Nell just smiled.
I circled the whimpering maid in my arm. "Mary, you must tell us where to find Jack Sweet. You will be protected. Mr. Glass will give you gainful employment in his Mayfair house if you help us."
"I don't know where he is, miss," she wailed, tears streaming down her plump cheeks. "He lives at his shop, but it could be anywhere in the city."
"Mary," Nell snapped. "Don't tell them nothing."
If Nell needed to warn Mary to stop, what more did the maid know? I glanced at Matt, but he was in no state to think clearly. He was a tower of fury, his eyes cold, the planes of his face hard as rock. I had to do the thinking for him.
"What sort of shop does Mr. Sweet have?" I asked the maid.
She looked to her mistress but I caught the maid's face and forced her to look only at me. Her entire body trembled and the tears continued. She was terrified. Of Nell? Jack? Or us?
"Listen to me, Mary. When we leave here, you will come with us and bring your things. Mr. Glass will employ you and you never have to see these people again. Is that understood? Your wages will be better, the conditions better, and you'll share a room with our other maid. You can make friends there. Do you understand? You'll be safe and have a chance of a better life than you have here. Now, tell me what else you know about Mr. Sweet's whereabouts. We have to find him and that diary or my friend will die."
Nell threw the teacup and saucer at me. Tea splashed over my dress and the saucer smacked my shoulder. The cup fell in my lap. I calmly picked them up and handed them to Matt, who'd rushed to my side. He looked in utter turmoil. If a man had thrown something at me, he would have punched him. But he could do nothing to Nell.
I wasn't so sure Willie's morals were as strong. She pointed her gun at Nell. "Don't move again."
"Don't listen to the bitch," Nell spat at Mary. "You stay here. I saved you, girl. Remember that. I saved you and gave you a job here when no one else would."
"You don't pay me," Mary whispered.
"What?" Nell shook her head, confused.
"You don't pay me," Mary said, louder. "Mr. Sweet did, at first, but then he stopped. He told me I got a roof over my head and food, and I should be lucky I had that much."
Nell stared at her, her jaw slack. "I have money. Take it! Take it! Tell them nothing."
Mary accepted the handkerchief from Matt and dried her cheeks. "All I know about where
Mr. Sweet lives is that he has some rooms above his shop."
"We already know that," Willie ground out.
I glared at her and she pressed her lips together. "Anything else?" I asked Mary gently. "Do you know if he needs to get an omnibus here from the shop or can he walk?"
She shook her head.
Willie huffed out a breath. Matt rubbed his jaw with his closed fist.
"Miss Sweet says her son likes to fix things," I said. "Is that what he does in his shop? Fix things?"
She nodded. "And sell them too."
"What sort of things?"
"Watches and clocks."
My arms fell away from her. I reeled back and blinked hard.
And then I got the oddest sensation in the pit of my stomach. It was part horror, part disbelief, but also a curious sense of triumph. The more I thought through the facts we knew about Nell's son, the more the pieces fitted together.
"You know who it is, India." Matt was at my side, his hand on the back of my neck. It was then that I noticed my rapid breathing, my hot skin.
"When did Mr. Sweet begin to give his mother money, sweets and trinkets?" I asked Mary.
"About two months ago, at the start of spring. When he went from being an apprentice to owning the shop."
Guessing was one thing, but having my suspicions confirmed was entirely another. My chest constricted. I couldn't breathe. I reached out for balance and found Matt, solid and comforting with a look of pure shock on his face.
He'd realized too.
"Well?" Willie prompted. "Who is he? Where is he?"
"They don't know." Nell snorted. "They don't know a bloody thing." But the slump of her shoulders told another story. She knew we'd guessed, but she couldn't possibly know how we knew her son. I'd used my real name and it had meant nothing to her. Eddie hadn't told his mother he'd been engaged to an India Steele and inherited his shop from my father. He hadn't told his mother that he'd changed his name, lied, cheated and tricked us.
And it was only just dawning on me why he had done all those things.
I shivered.
The front door opened and a voice I knew too well called, "Ma?"
"Run, Jack!" Nell shouted. "Run away now!"
