“Indeed. Many, many years.” He set down the Saint Bernard, adjusted its position, then stared out the window for a long moment.
“We’re wondering if you might remember a prisoner there by the name of Vincent Simmons.”
Nulty turned to stare at Ashbury in surprise. “Do you have any idea how many men went through that prison? How could you think I would remember any of them?”
Michael sighed. He really hadn’t expected the man to recall Simmons.
But Ashbury didn’t seem convinced. “There are two men we’d like to learn more about actually. The other man was Edward Smith.”
The old man hesitated before picking up another figurine, a flicker of something crossing his face.
Ashbury seemed to have caught it as well, for he moved closer to Nulty. “There have been rumors that someone allowed the two men to change places. Smith hung in Simmons’ stead.”
“That would never be permitted.” He set the figurine down, adjusting it to line up precisely with the others.
“No. But you and I both know these things happen.”
Michael feigned interest in another figurine, trailing his finger along the smooth surface. “Smith was said to be dying of consumption anyway.”
Nulty frowned as he glanced at the item Michael touched. “That one is a Talbot hound brought to England by William the Conqueror. Excellent scent hound.”
Michael took a second look at the dog. “I had no idea. Never seen one like it.”
Ashbury glared at him, and Michael cleared his throat, bringing himself back to their inquiry.
“We’ve been told the individual who requested the switch was a man of science.” Michael kept his gaze on Nulty to gauge his reaction.
“Science? What would he want with a prisoner?”
“We’re hoping you could help us with that. Along with the identity of the man.”
Ashbury shifted to stand directly in front of Nulty. “Sometimes, we’re forced to do things we wouldn’t consider doing under normal circumstances.”
“We’re not here to cast blame on anyone,” Michael added, hoping to encourage an answer. “We only want to discover the identity of the person who requested the arrangement.”
“Why does it matter?” Nulty shook his head as he shifted another of the figurines. “That was a long time ago.”
Starting to believe the man remembered more than he was letting on, Michael decided to press him further. “We believe this man has been conducting tests with electromagnetism on children. Lives are at risk.”
“That’s outlandish. I don’t believe you.” Nulty tightened his lips, much like a belligerent child who refused to listen as he picked up another figurine.
“We have no reason to deceive you.”
“If there’s anything you can remember, anything you can tell us, it might save someone’s life.” Michael wanted to throttle the man for being so stubborn.
“Children, you say?” Nulty asked almost reluctantly.
“Who knows what he’ll try next in the name of science,” Ashbury added. “Dogs perhaps?”
Nulty turned to glare at Ashbury, obviously horrified at the prospect. “Surely not.”
“One never knows,” Michael added.
Nulty shook his head and heaved a sigh. “I received a message from someone who called himself ‘the professor’. Said Simmons was his nephew and that he needed his assistance with research he was conducting. He promised to make sure Simmons behaved and changed his ways.”
“Simmons murdered my fiancé’s father, all for the sake of a meteorite.” The cold green of Ashbury’s eyes showed the intensity of his feelings. “Why would you allow him to escape his due punishment?”
“He threatened me,” Nulty protested. “I had no choice.”
“How?”
Nulty shifted as he rubbed his brow. “In the first message, he offered money. I refused. In the next, he advised me that he knew where my family and I lived. He knew my daughter’s name. He named the shop where she worked. The message said if I didn’t do as he asked, he would have her...accosted on the way home one night.” Nulty swallowed hard. “Again I refused.”
Michael watched as the old man struggled with his lingering guilt, something to which Michael could relate.
“Soon after that, two men stopped her on her way home. They tore her dress, struck her, and scared the bloody hell out of her. Another message came the next day, advising me that the next time would be worse.”
“These messages bore the same signature?”
“Aye. All were signed ‘the professor’. No name.” Nulty looked Ashbury in the eye. “Surely you can see that I had to protect my daughter. He left me no choice. Family comes first.”
Ashbury nodded. “Yes. Family comes first.”
“My daughter had to quit work. She was too frightened, even after I had a guard accompany her.”
“At times, it’s difficult to find the line between staying true to your honor and protecting your family.” Michael avoided Ashbury’s gaze as he spoke, not wanting him to read anything more into what Michael said. Those simple words shared far too much of himself.
Nulty pulled at his collar as though it suddenly felt too tight. “I don’t know that I could’ve done anything different than I did at the time. I’ve gone over it many times in my mind and found no other solution.”
“If you remember anything else, please contact us. We need to find this man before he hurts others.”
“A meteorite you said? What of this?” Nulty walked across the room to a table with newssheets on it. He sorted through them until he found what he was looking for and handed it to Michael.
“Murder at the Museum,” Michael read aloud. He glanced at Ashbury to see if he’d already seen the article.
Ashbury shook his head.
“A guard was found murdered at the Museum of Scientific Research for Rocks and Minerals. The murderer escaped with a unique lunar meteorite, one of the largest ever found.” Michael read through the remainder of the article, but learned little else. Still, he intended to add the information to his list.
“Perhaps a trip to the museum is in order,” Ashbury suggested.
Michael nodded. “We’ll have to hurry. It says here that tomorrow they’re moving the meteorite exhibit to a safer location. It might also be time to discover more about the professor’s family tree from Emma. If he had a nephew named Simmons, surely she was aware of him.”
Did he dare ask her? Or would it only alert her to their suspicions?
~*~
Emma breathed deeply, hoping to calm her nerves. The invitation from Viscount Weston this morning to accompany him to a museum had been surprising despite his mention of an outing the previous night. She had to wonder if his fiancé knew of his invitation. Would she be accompanying them as well?
“I hope you enjoy yourself,” Viscountess Weston said as she looked up from the book she was reading as Emma entered the drawing room.
“Are you quite certain you don’t want to join us?”
“I’m afraid rocks and minerals do not hold my interest.”
Emma smiled. “I confess I find them fascinating. Rather unladylike of me, I’m sure, but my uncle took great pleasure in his own collection. We had many enjoyable strolls searching for unusual rocks.” She hesitated to say anything further. Sharing her personal life with others was something she’d stopped doing long ago.
“Your uncle sounds like an interesting man.”
“He was. I miss him still.” She smoothed the soft yellow fabric of her gown. Wearing such lovely gowns each day would take some getting used to. As she donned her gloves, she glanced at the viscountess. “It was very kind of your grandson to offer to take me.”
“Hmm...‘kind’ is not a word often used to describe him.”
“He told me the same thing. I don’t think we’ll be gone overly long. Is there anything you would like me to acquire for you while I’m out?”
“No thank you, dear. You enj
oy yourself.”
“Good day to you, ladies,” Michael said as he entered the room. He bent to kiss his grandmother’s cheek.
Something about the sweetness of the gesture and the sincerity of his smile warmed Emma’s heart. He adored his grandmother and didn’t seem to care who knew it.
“How are you today, Miss Grisby?” He turned to her and smiled, but there was a shadow in his eyes she didn’t care for.
“Fine, thank you. And you?”
“Well, thank you. I do think there’s something you should know before we depart for the museum.”
“Oh?”
“There was a guard murdered there two nights ago.”
A shiver seeped down Emma’s spine, partly because of the intense stare Michael gave her as he delivered the unsettling news.
“Is it safe, Michael? I wouldn’t want either of you to be in any danger,” the viscountess said.
“I’m sure the danger has passed. I’d postpone our visit, but the meteorite collection I’m particularly interested in will be removed after today. However, I’ll understand if you’d prefer not to accompany me.”
“Emma, are you certain you feel comfortable?” the viscountess asked.
Viscount Weston looked at her again for a long moment, as if trying to gauge her reaction to the news. Emma raised her brow in response. Did he expect her to faint? To protest their visit?
Yet as he continued to stare, she had to wonder if he somehow thought she was involved in the crime.
Convinced she must be mistaken, she asked, “The murderer has not yet been apprehended?”
“Not thus far.”
“That’s terrible,” the viscountess added. “What did he take?”
“A rather rare lunar meteorite.”
Ignoring the viscount’s odd behavior, Emma pondered the matter. “If it’s so rare, wouldn’t it be difficult to sell without someone recognizing it?”
Viscount Weston nodded.
“If he can’t sell it, what use would he have for it?”
“That’s an excellent question,” he said, his gaze still on her.
Unable to determine why he studied her so closely, she did the only thing she could—ignore him.
The idea of touring a museum where such a tragedy had taken place bothered her, but she realized she trusted Michael to ensure they remained safe. “If you believe it to be secure then I’m happy to go.”
“From what I understand the murderer was after a particular stone and was successful in his quest. I would say he obtained what he wanted and has no need to return.”
“Very well, then. Let us be on our way.” Emma turned to the viscountess. “Are you sure you won’t come with us?”
“I’ll leave all the excitement to you young people. I’m certain you’ll fill me in on the details.”
“Of course,” Emma said with a smile.
“Shall we?” Viscount Weston asked.
Soon they were settled in his carriage, a maid on the seat beside Emma to serve as chaperone. There was no sign of Miss Vandimer and Emma decided not to raise the topic.
The viscount said little as they traveled to the museum, leaving Emma to wonder at his mood. Rather than disturb the silence, she let it be.
The museum appeared to be a former residence, albeit a very large one. Marble pillars set on either side of a massive staircase gave the entrance a sense of grandeur. Emma glanced at Michael, but still he said nothing. She wasn’t sure if they’d traipse through the entire building in silence or if he intended to speak to her.
No matter, she told herself. She was more interested in the exhibits than her companion. She nodded at the footman who assisted her from the carriage and proceeded toward the steps that led to the front door, the maid trailing far behind.
“In a hurry?” The viscount’s voice was so close that it startled her.
“Oh, are you speaking with me now? I’m not certain why you invited me to accompany you if you aren’t going to converse.” She berated herself for stating her opinion. Even the maid who suddenly studied the flowers growing along the path must think her anything but a well-behaved lady.
“My apologies. I have much on my mind.”
She bit her lip, determined not to admit that she did as well. Nor would she inquire as to what bothered him. They were here to enjoy the museum, not each other’s company.
Yet her mother’s soft spoken voice whispered in her mind. Be kind. You haven’t walked in his shoes.
“I hope it’s nothing serious.” She glanced at the arm he offered her, hesitating before placing her hand on it. Touching him for any reason seemed a poor idea. Her emotions were already tangled enough.
“Unfortunately it is. I just have to hope it will solve itself.”
She turned his answer over in her mind, wondering if she should do the same. She’d never been one to live on hope. A course of action seemed a better plan.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
She looked up in surprise. “Nothing. Why?”
“I can practically see the mechanisms spinning behind your eyes. You’re definitely thinking something.”
“I know nothing of your problem, so I have nothing to offer you.”
“Yes, you do. Go ahead and say it.”
With a sigh, she decided she might as well share her thoughts, meager though they might be. “I’ve found action a sounder plan than hope. Hope seems destined to be unfulfilled.”
He stopped and brought her to a halt next to him, those blue eyes studying her as though trying to discover all her secrets. “While I agree that taking action is important, hope is as well. Without hope, what is there?”
“Reality might taste bitter, but disappointment can choke you.” How many times had she held hope that someone would reach out a hand to help her and her family? That Tessa would wake up one day and feel better? That circumstances would change and her family would have adequate food and shelter?
“Miss Grisby—Emma—has life been so difficult since your uncle’s...death?”
She swallowed hard. Her given name on his lips made her chest ache. What had she been thinking to share her feelings with him? “I don’t want your sympathy.” Nor his pity. That was the last thing she wanted. “I’m merely saying that God helps those who help themselves.” Though she wasn’t even certain she believed that anymore.
“True enough. But without hope, why bother to rise each day and put one foot in front of the other?”
She closed her eyes. She’d wondered the same thing so many mornings, and she told him what she told herself each day. “Because others depend on you. Because it’s expected of you. Because there is no alternative.”
“Oh, but there is. I’m certain you’ll find it.”
She opened her eyes to find him close. Too close. The outer blue ring of his eyes was a shade darker than the inside. How had she missed that before? His gaze dropped to her lips and awareness spiraled through her. “It’s time you had some fun in your life, Emma. You’re overdue for an adventure.”
Butterflies fluttered inside her. Surely that was only nervousness. “Adventure?”
Michael smiled. “You say that as if it’s a foreign concept. Life is not always easy. That’s true. But adding a few light-hearted activities makes it bearable. Interesting at the very least.”
“I’m not staying with your grandmother for entertainment purposes.”
“No, but what harm can it cause? You’re here for a fortnight, perhaps longer. I’m merely suggesting that you enjoy it. Starting now. I’m making it a priority to see that you have a few adventures.”
His change of mood made her wonder what had come over him.
Without waiting for her reply or responding to her questioning look, he took her gloved hand and tucked it beneath his elbow. “Shall we see what the museum has to offer in the form of entertainment?” For a long moment, he glanced about as though searching for something.
“What is it?”
He shook his head. �
�It almost feels as though someone is watching us. Do you feel it?”
She’d been so involved in him—or rather, the situation, she hadn’t noticed. But now that he mentioned it, she sensed it too.
“Never mind,” he said with a smile. “Let us tour the museum.”
They walked up the steps, and a uniformed guard opened the door for them, causing a bell to echo through the house.
“Good day to you.”
Michael inquired as to the location of the meteorite exhibit and the guard directed them to the uppermost floor. “Professor Wattle is up there somewhere. He can direct you to the exact location.”
Emma advised the maid to wait for them in the chair by the door. Then she and Michael proceeded up the stairs.
From what Emma could discern, the entire place was filled with dusty display cases and boxes with all sorts of specimens of varying sizes. It was difficult to tell in what order, if any, the items were displayed.
“Good day.” The gravelly voice floating down from the top of the stairs startled Emma.
Michael patted her hand as he looked up. “Good afternoon.”
“Thank you for visiting the museum. Is there anything in particular I can direct you toward?” The attendant looked like a retired professor with gray hair, long sideburns, and a pair of spectacles sitting slightly crooked on his nose.
“I understand you have an interesting collection of meteorites.”
“Well, it is not quite as interesting as it was two days past, but yes, we do.”
“We’re terribly sorry to hear about the unfortunate events that occurred,” Emma offered. She hesitated to discuss it in detail, uncertain how much to say.
“Indeed. The death of Mr. Bryant weighs heavy on all of us here at the museum. Quite unexpected.” He pointed to the ceiling. “The meteorites are on the upper floor, if you’d care to follow me.”
They trailed after the attendant who introduced himself as Professor Wattle. “No other visitors have ventured in today. I suppose the news of the murder has scared them away.”
Passionate Secrets (The Secrets Trilogy Book 2) Page 11
