The Sign of Death

by Callie Hutton

  William helped her into the carriage, and they both settled in. The beautiful sunny day had turned cloudy and cool. Amy shivered, and William handed her the blanket from under his seat.

  “Are you up for another visit to Harding’s house to look for the ledger?” William asked.

  “Yes.” Her answer was out before he finished his sentence. She was always up for a chance to do some snooping and investigating. “Just tell me when.”

  “I will come up with a plan, and we’ll go over it when we meet Thursday at the club. Shall I stop by to pick you up?”

  Considering her papa’s enthusiasm for William and his visits, it would probably be better to travel there herself. “No, I will take my own carriage. But thank you.”

  “Why?”

  Amy fidgeted on the seat. “No particular reason.”

  He grinned. “Are you sure?”

  Amy raised her chin. “Of course I’m sure. I traveled by myself to the book club meetings for two years before you began calling for me.”

  William burst out laughing.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “What, pray tell, is so funny about that?”

  He leaned back in his seat and rested his foot on his bent knee. “What is funny, my lady, is you trying to convince me, or perhaps yourself, that your father—with his eager greeting every time I arrive at your house—has nothing to do with your decision.”

  She huffed and looked out the window. They had just arrived at her house. Once the driver opened the door, William stepped out, turned, and took her hand. She stepped out, and they made their way to the front door. “Good night, Amy. If you change your mind about having me call for you Thursday, just send around a note.”

  She nodded. “And don’t forget to make your plan for our next trip to recover the ledger.”

  Stevens opened the door, and Amy stepped inside. Once the door was closed, he said, “This came for you this evening.” He handed her an envelope from her publisher. With a certain amount of dread, she opened the missive and scanned the page, groaning as she read.

  My dear Lady Amy,

  This letter is to advise you that, in accordance with your contract with Chatto & Windus, Publishers, we require you to appear at the book festival to be held at Atkinson & Tucker Booksellers. The date shall follow.

  Yours truly,

  Mr. Edmond Gordon, Editor

  * * *

  On Thursday evening, William arrived at the Atkinson & Tucker bookstore with his mother once more in tow. Hopefully she would not spend all her time chatting away with Amy, trying to push her toward the altar.

  He had to admit that he’d gone from marriage is not for me to maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible with the right woman to Lady Amy is most likely the right woman to give up my bachelorhood for.

  Although he’d eschewed marriage for a long time, he’d always known in the back of his mind that, being the only son, he had an obligation to produce the next Viscount Wethington. If he should die without issue, the title would pass to an obscure relative currently residing in the American states with some Indian tribe.

  But when he decided to make that huge change in his life, it would be his decision to make, and his proposal to make, and her acceptance to give. Trying to keep his mother and her father out of it had become trying.

  He was pleased to see Amy and Miss Gertrude conversing in the bookstore while they pretended to browse the shelves. He hurried his mother into the meeting room, not wanting her to see Amy and break up their conversation.

  Several people had already arrived and were gathered in a circle. When he reached the gathering, Mr. Davidson introduced a friend, Mr. Christopher Rawlings, who was new to the club. With the O’Neill sisters, William’s mother, and now Davidson’s friend added to their numbers, the group was growing into quite a sizable crowd.

  Eventually the two Misses O’Neill and Amy arrived from the bookstore. Mr. Colbert seemed to have to drag himself away from fawning all over Mother, who was blushing like a debutante. William shook his head in disgust.

  The man eventually called the meeting to order. Once he had everyone’s attention, he began the discussion of their current read.

  With all that William had been dealing with in trying to get his finances in order, he hadn’t spent much time reading his copy of “A Case of Identity,” another Sherlock Holmes story.

  “Do you think it was wise of Holmes not to tell his client what he had discovered about her missing lover?” Mr. Colbert tossed out the first question.

  Amy quickly related the plot of the book to William as the group began to share their opinions.

  William spent his time studying the members of the club. Had any of them also been clients of Harding? How had Harding learned whatever it was he knew about Miss Gertrude that had made her willing to pay him to keep it quiet?

  He needed to speak with Amy about the conversation she’d been having with the woman when he first arrived. Miss Gertrude did not look upset, leaving him to wonder if Amy had addressed the question of her being blackmailed at all. Assuredly there must be something lurid in the woman’s background for Harding to have been able to get money from her on a regular basis.

  Once the story had been torn apart by the club members and put back together again, Mr. Colbert made one final announcement.

  “Friends, it gives me a great deal of pleasure to announce that the date for the book fair here at Atkinson and Tucker will be Wednesday, the twenty-fifth of March, so please make your plans. Also, I have heard from Mr. Dobish, the manager of the store, that it has been confirmed that Mr. E. D. Burton will make an appearance at the book fair.” He glowed with happiness as he made this declaration.

  William looked over at Amy, who looked back at him and shook her head furiously.

  Right after that, the meeting broke up, and the members began to filter out of the room. “Since we have separate carriages, we won’t be able to exchange information.” Amy looked annoyed as she mumbled to him on their way out of the bookstore.

  “ ’Twas your idea,” William said. “Although in all fairness, since my mother has decided to continue attending the book club meetings, we would not have been able to converse anyway.”

  Amy and William stood apart from a small group, including his mother, who waited in front of the store for their carriages to be brought around, chatting away with Mr. Colbert.

  William glared in their direction as he spoke to Amy. “I have come up with a plan to visit Harding’s home again. All I can tell you is be ready tomorrow night around midnight.”

  “Midnight!”

  “Shh.” William glanced over her shoulder, but her comment hadn’t garnered any interest. “Yes. It is not too far, but a large house, so it may take all night, but that’s our best chance of searching without running into the police again.”

  “Very well. I probably won’t have trouble getting out. I can go down the back staircase and leave through the servants’ door. Papa has usually retired to his room by that time. But depending on how long it takes, it might be tricky for me to get back in when we return.”

  “We’ll work something out. Just be ready.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Just as Amy stepped out of her room to head to the back staircase and meet William, Persephone began to bark. Amy sucked in a deep breath, closed the door, and turned back to the dog. Going down on one knee, she ran her hand over the animal’s soft fur. “Quiet, Persephone. You will wake everyone.”

  Persephone licked her hand and settled into a slumber position, a slight sigh coming from her tiny mouth. Amy stood and walked to the door. The minute she opened it, Persephone rose up on all fours and began to bark again. Amy rushed back to her dog. “Persephone, stop. I have to leave, and you must stay quiet.” She petted the Pomeranian some more until the dog’s eyes closed and then was comforted by the sound of soft snoring.

  Already late for meeting William, she hurried to the door.

  Bark, bark.

  Amy leaned her forehea
d against the door. She turned to see the bloody dog running in circles, barking her fool head off. With no other choice, Amy scooped Persephone into her arms and left the room. Clamping the animal’s mouth shut with her hand, she raced down the back stairs and out the door.

  William stood right outside, and she ran into him, knocking him off his feet. They both tumbled to the ground, Amy flat on top of William. As they untangled themselves, Persephone licked William’s face.

  “What the devil were you thinking to bring that dog with you?”

  Amy rolled off William, her skirts a tangled mess. He stood to offer his hand to help her up and then brushed off his pants. “Are you crazy?”

  “She wouldn’t stop barking every time I moved toward the door. She would have awakened the entire household if she kept it up. Then it would have been investigated, and you can imagine the rest.” Amy swept her hand over the back of her dress and, carrying a happy Persephone in her arms, followed William down the path to the gate that led to the street, where his carriage stood.

  His driver jumped from his seat and opened the door.

  “Have you thought about what would happen if she continues to bark when we leave her in the carriage?” William helped her into the vehicle and climbed in after her.

  “We will simply have to deal with that issue if or when it arises. We might have to bring her with us into the house if she does start up again. I don’t understand what is going on with her. She has been acting very strange lately.”

  William smirked. “How can you tell?” Then he shook his head and glared at the dog, who glared right back. Amy rolled her eyes at the two of them.

  “Since we found the hidden files at the house, I’m assuming Harding would have hidden the book he was keeping there also rather than at his office or flat,” William said once they were well under way. “Also, it’s quite possible his things have been cleared out of his flat, since I know the manager would not leave a place empty for long.”

  “I wonder if Mr. Harding had relatives who would claim his things.”

  “If he does, they aren’t local, or they would have shown up to claim the body. From what I heard through my contacts, Harding’s body was left unclaimed, and the authorities were forced to arrange his burial.”

  “How very sad,” Amy said. The man might have been a scoundrel, but he still deserved family or friends to see him off to his final resting place. “Sometimes it pays to attend the funeral of a murder victim. The theory is the killer will show up.”

  “Yes. I have heard that. Is that what you do in your books?”

  She shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  “I have been in touch with a few people in an effort to locate Mrs. Whitney’s stepson, Patrick. He is not known in the clubs I belong to in Bath, so we might need to get more information from her about his employment and activities. Where was it you spoke with her again?”

  “It was at Lady Ambrose’s house.” She shuddered. “I dislike that woman, with all the snide remarks she made to me last year when the police were focused on me for Mr. St. Vincent’s death. I sometimes think she was actually sorry when it was proven I was not the killer.”

  “Women can be more destructive with their tongues than men with weapons,” William said.

  “I heartily agree. I don’t think it will be too difficult to obtain Mrs. Whitney’s direction. Since she is friends with Aunt Margaret, I’m sure my aunt knows it. I can send around a note to set a time when we can visit with her. She seemed quite distraught when I saw her at tea. I think she would like to know that someone is interested enough to unravel the puzzle. And that all is well with her stepson.”

  “Then we shall put a visit with her on our list of things to do. I’d like to find out more about her relationship with her stepson.”

  Amy’s brows rose. “I wasn’t aware of a list of things to do.”

  “You might consider yourself a great detective, but my expertise lies more in organization.” William offered a smug smile. “I’ve already made up a list of what we need to do and when it should be done.”

  Amy smiled. “Well done, my lord.”

  After a few minutes, William said, “I meant to ask you how your conversation with Miss Gertrude went last night at the book club.”

  Amy ran her hand over Persephone’s fur. “She confirmed that Mr. Harding was blackmailing her. However, she stubbornly refused to say why. She said now that he was dead, the secret had died with him and she had no interest in bringing it up again.

  “She seemed so very cheerful about the man’s death that it disturbed me a bit. It is almost impossible for me to seriously consider her a suspect, but given the fact that she confirmed he was blackmailing her and her joy at his demise, I believe we should keep her on the list. For now, anyway.”

  After a moment she added, “Oh, I can’t believe I forgot the most important part. She also confirmed there is a book where he recorded her payments. She said it was about the size of a journal and he had it with him every time she visited him. If it helps, she said it had a black cover. And she said the meetings took place in the pub we went to, where the man told us Mr. Harding met with people on a regular basis.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. At least we are not on a fool’s errand, looking for a nonexistent ledger.” William shifted in his seat. “Keep in mind that if Miss Gertrude knows about the book, so does everyone he was blackmailing. Let’s hope no one else knows Harding’s direction and has been there before us.”

  “Or the police,” Amy added.

  “Except we know he recorded his payments in a book, while the police might believe they have everything they need by taking his files. I’m sure the files might say why they were being blackmailed, but it will take some time for them to go through the paperwork and accumulated information on each person.”

  They remained mostly silent for the rest of the trip until they arrived at Harding’s house on the road to Bath. Again William’s driver pulled around the house to the back, where the carriage could not be seen from the street.

  After a quick reminder to the driver to watch for anyone else arriving, they climbed out, and Persephone opened her eyes, enjoyed a huge stretch, and when she saw them climbing out of the carriage, began to bark.

  And bark.

  And bark.

  William ran his hand down his face. “Is there any way to shut that animal up?”

  “If there were a way to shut Persephone up, she would right now be sleeping soundly in my bedchamber,” Amy growled at him, when she should have been growling at the animal. “We will have to bring her with us.”

  “I don’t think that is a good idea, but since there seems no alternative, go fetch her.”

  Amy returned to the carriage and scooped Persephone into her arms. “You are being a very bad dog tonight, Persephone. Whatever is wrong with you?”

  The dog ignored Amy’s words and licked her hand.

  They made their way to the back door of the house. It appeared the police must have arranged to have the house locked after their previous visit. However, with one swift punch, William broke the corner of the glass, reached in, and unlatched the door, and they were inside.

  They stopped for a minute and listened to make sure they were the only ones in the house. At William’s nod, Amy followed him up the stairs and down the corridor to the library.

  Once inside, she put Persephone on a small sofa and joined William at the desk. “Since we already went through the desk the last time we were here, I suggest we search the bookshelves. That would be the best place for a ledger or other record-keeping book to be kept.”

  He nodded at the desk. “Take that lamp, and I will get the one from that table over there.” He waved at a small table next to where Persephone snored. “We will go slowly and thoroughly through the books. Based on what Miss Gertrude told you, we can skip any book that isn’t black. If it’s anywhere in this house, this seems to be the best place.”

  Amy nodded and lit the lamp and then mov
ed to the bookcase on the south wall. Persephone raised her head and watched. When Amy didn’t attempt to leave the room, she settled back down and closed her eyes.

  Amy had no idea what was going on with Persephone. She had never been this clingy before. Hopefully her beloved pet wasn’t getting sick.

  They began the tedious job of pulling out a book, flipping through it, and returning it to the shelf. The area she had chosen to search for the ledger contained shelves of biology books. She found herself stopping to look at pictures, thinking there might be something in these books she could use in her novels.

  A good hour and a half passed before William pulled out what seemed like the five hundredth book and flipped it open. “Yes!”

  Amy dropped the book she was holding and hurried over to him. “Did you find it?”

  He walked to the desk, laid the book down next to the lamp, and flipped back to the beginning. He ran his finger down the list of entries and looked up at Amy. “It’s in code.”

  “What?” She pulled the book toward her, looked at the writing and groaned. She chewed on her lip and studied the crazy entries. There were regular letters and some numbers, just jumbled up. Looking up at him, she grinned. “We’ll have to crack the code. I could use it in one of my books.”

  William tugged the book back and slammed it shut. Persephone let out a bark combined with a screech. She jumped from the sofa and raced out the library door.

  Amy and William stared at each other. They turned and sprinted from the room. “Persephone,” she called.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe this,” William mumbled as they dashed up the stairs after the dratted animal. “I swear that dog spends its time thinking of ways to bring chaos into my life.”

  They reached the top of the stairs and looked right and left. The doors to the rooms on the floor had been left open, and moonlight through the windows gave them enough light to know that Persephone was nowhere in their range of vision. “This is a nightmare. Do you see how large this house is? How many rooms are here? It might take us hours to find her.”