William gave a slight laugh. “I’m not sure I can concentrate on finding a killer now that I have this mess on my hands.” He slumped back against the sofa. “Do you realize how much time I will need to go over my financial records? And how many fires I will have to put out with the damage Harding has done to my name? I have always enjoyed a stellar reputation, and now it appears there are some people who view me as a scoundrel.”
“There is no reason why I can’t continue with the investigation while you are busy.”
“No!”
Amy jumped back, her hand at her throat. “Goodness, William. You frightened me.”
William blew out a breath. “I apologize. But under no circumstances are you to pursue this matter on your own. We’ve already been shot at. I agree that we must continue to search for the killer. With the detectives telling me to meet them tomorrow and to have a barrister with me, there is no doubt that they are considering me a suspect.”
They were both silent for a few moments, staring off into space. Their reverie was interrupted by the sound of the front door opening and Papa coming through the door. From the sounds of their voices, he and Michael were in the middle of a disagreement. Between William’s troubles and Papa’s irritation with her publisher, it was probably not the best time for Papa to arrive.
“Good afternoon, Amy.” Papa’s eyes lit up at the sight of William sitting alongside her. “And Lord Wethington, good to see you, lad.”
Amy groaned to herself. She really wished Papa would stop referring to William as a lad. He and Michael were the same age, and with all the business Papa and Michael did together, she doubted her papa considered her brother a lad.
William stood and shook Lord Winchester’s hand, then turned to Amy’s brother. “Good afternoon.” He stopped, looked down at Amy, and turned back to Papa. “My lord, may I have a few minutes of your time?”
Papa’s face broke into a huge smile, but Amy was sure William was not requesting an audience with her father for the reason the poor man thought. Being a smart man, William was going to turn to Papa for help.
The two men left the drawing room, most likely headed to the library. Michael grinned at her. “Should we be planning a wedding?”
“No.” She wasn’t quite sure if she should tell Michael what was going on, but she didn’t want him harboring the idea that William was drawing up marriage contracts.
“William has a problem, and I believe he wishes Papa’s counsel on it, since his own father is deceased.”
“That sounds serious.”
Amy sighed. “I’m afraid it is.” Knowing her brother to be very discreet, she told him the tale of Harding’s death, relating that William’s business card had been found on him so that he was requested to identify the body. She left out the part where she was there as well.
She skipped over other parts too, especially breaking into Harding’s flat and house—twice—and their compilation of a list of suspects. The men in her family were so squeamish about her doing anything except attending balls, gossiping at afternoon teas, and selecting gowns for social events. If Michael knew of their escapades, especially the part where they had been shot at, she would find herself hustled back to London and confined to her bedchamber until she was old and wrinkled.
When she finished the story of the detectives’ visit and what they had accused William of, Michael let out a low whistle. “Sounds like your young man is in trouble.”
Amy sighed, irritation springing up again at his words. Then she reconsidered and sighed again. “Yes, my young man is in trouble.”
* * *
Once they entered the library, William took the seat across from Lord Winchester and, based on the man’s demeanor, immediately realized Amy’s father was expecting him to make an offer for his daughter. William had been so rattled by the police visit that the first thing he’d thought of when his lordship walked into the room was that he could use some serious advice. Now he was about to not only disappoint the man but lay out some grim allegations regarding his reputation.
He remembered when Amy had been under suspicion last year and her father had retained a barrister for her. William cleared his throat. “My lord, I find myself in a bit of trouble, and I need the advice of someone with a few more years of experience than I have. Were my father alive, I would seek his counsel, but since he is not …”
Lord Winchester frowned. “What is the problem?”
With fits and starts, William laid out the entire situation before Amy’s father. He conveniently left out the part about him and Amy investigating the murder. There was no reason to cause her father any further alarm.
When William was finished, Lord Winchester leaned back and rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, cupping his chin with his index finger and thumb. After a few minutes of silence, he said, “I agree, Wethington, you have a serious problem on your hands.”
“I blame myself for being neglectful of my duties to my own financial well-being. But I had no reason until very recently to imagine anything was wrong. Harding has worked for me for three years, and never has there been even a hint of misdeeds.”
Winchester shrugged. “Perhaps something changed in his life that encouraged him to begin this duplicitous life.”
“That could very well be, but my most pressing need now is to hire someone to represent me. I suppose I could contact my solicitor and get a recommendation for a barrister from him, but I remember the man you secured for Lady Amy last year seemed quite competent, and I don’t have a great deal of time.”
“I agree.” Winchester nodded. “I shall send a note around to my man immediately. I suggest you gather your financial records, so you have some proof of what you thought was going on as opposed to what they found in Harding’s files.”
William breathed a sigh of relief. Lord Winchester was a competent businessman and had reason to hope that one day William would be his son-in-law. Although William did not wish to play to that expectation too much, at least at this time, he could use the man’s advice and help.
“I will do that. And I appreciate your help in this matter.” William stood, as did Lord Winchester. Just as William reached the door, his lordship added, “If you ever want to discuss anything else, please feel free to request a meeting.”
Knowing exactly what Winchester had in mind, William nodded and returned to the drawing room.
He found Amy alone there.
“How did it go?” She eyed him with concern.
“Your father was quite helpful. He made the good suggestion that I gather my own financial records, and he will contact the barrister he hired for you last year. I believe his name was Mr. Nelson-Graves?”
“Yes. I remember him as being quite somber and excellent at thwarting the detectives when they tried to trick me into answers by confusing the questions they asked.”
“I will take my leave now. I want to go over all my papers and get ready for the meeting tomorrow.”
“I understand.” Amy stood and walked him to the door. “Oh, with all the excitement, I forgot to tell you I figured out the code.”
“That’s right. I remember you saying so just as the detectives arrived.” They stopped in front of the door. “Are you going to tell me or make me figure it out myself?” He was sure his grin was a bit forced, but he had a great deal on his mind.
“I will tell you this much. The name we were trying to figure out is Ethel Burrows.”
“Interesting.” William accepted his coat and hat from Stevens and turned to her. “Continue on with the other name, and perhaps tomorrow afternoon we can get together. I still want to pursue this investigation. Especially now that I am front and center with the police. I don’t much care for that position.”
Stevens opened the door for William, who nodded, then turned back and wrapped his arm around Amy before leaning in to give her a kiss. “For luck.”
He hurried down the steps to his carriage, thinking he needed much more than luck. Right now, what he needed wa
s a miracle.
CHAPTER 20
Amy was tired of pacing in her room, waiting for William to arrive. He was with his solicitor and the barrister Papa had arranged for him, and at the present time they were all at the police station.
She walked to the window and pushed aside the drapes to gaze out at the traffic below. So many people out and about, having a perfectly normal day, when William’s world was crashing down.
Instead of wasting her time here, she should be out and about herself, trying to find the true killer and save William. She checked her timepiece and decided it was not too early for a social call.
Miss Gertrude and Miss Penelope would be only too happy to visit with her. Since Miss Gertrude had acknowledged to Amy that she had, in fact, been blackmailed by Mr. Harding, perhaps she could give Amy some more information without revealing the reason for the blackmail. Although a tad curious, Amy would not broach that subject unless Miss Gertrude brought it up.
She pinned her hat to her head, fighting with her unruly auburn curls, tugged on gloves, and grabbed her reticule. As she approached the front door, she saw Aunt Margaret standing there, being assisted by Stevens into her coat.
“Are you doing morning calls?” Though they were called morning calls, they usually took place well after noontime.
“Yes.” Aunt Margaret raised her brows. “Don’t tell me you are interested in making visits?”
“Actually, yes. But only to a particular person.” Amy turned and allowed Stevens to help with her coat. “I am off to see Miss Gertrude O’Neill.”
“Ah,” Aunt Margaret said. “She is on your list of suspects, is she not?”
“Yes. But this visit isn’t about tripping her up, since I really don’t believe she could do something so hideous, but in gaining information that only someone who has been blackmailed by Mr. Harding would know.”
“All right. You have gotten my interest up. If you have no objection, I would like to accompany you.”
“That would be lovely. As you know, I am awkward at these things. I always seem to say the wrong thing, or drop my tea in my lap, or trip over a chair leg.”
Aunt Margaret grinned. “Yes. That about covers your visits.” She looked down at Amy’s feet.
Amy sighed. “Yes. My shoes match.”
Stevens opened the door, and she and Aunt Margaret descended the steps and climbed into the carriage.
Fluffy clouds floated like giant pillows across the sky, blocking the sun, then retreating, allowing the warmth and light to bathe the earth again.
Once they were settled and on their way, Aunt Margaret asked, “William is with the police this morning, is he not?”
“Yes. I am quite anxious. You know how these detectives seem to work, since we’ve dealt with them before. They focus on one suspect and then devote all their time to proving that person was the killer instead of casting their net wider.”
“You were there when the police arrived. What sort of evidence do they have?”
“Apparently one of the ways Mr. Harding was cheating William was by forging his name on contracts that turned out to be questionable at best and criminal at worst. William, of course, knew nothing about them, but it didn’t look good for him. The detectives took the stance that with all the shenanigans going on, Harding and William had formed a partnership and William decided to do away with Harding and claimed the other half of the ill-gotten goods.”
“How horrible for William. I know him to be an upstanding man, and to think they believe he would do illegal and perhaps criminal things with his business dealings is disheartening.”
“Yes. But more than disheartening to William, since he now has to spend time and effort restoring his good name with all those people and businesses that Harding swindled.”
“How does all of this tie in with wanting to visit Miss Gertrude, since you believe she couldn’t have shoved Harding into the river?”
“From what William and I have uncovered, Harding met his victims at the same pub on a regular basis to collect the money. I am hoping Miss Gertrude might have seen other victims in her comings and goings.”
“This leads me to believe you intend to keep on with this investigation.”
“We have to. If we don’t, they’re going to charge William, and as you said, you know him, and he would never murder anyone. Just promise me you won’t tell Papa what I’m doing.”
The carriage came to a rolling stop before her aunt could answer. Aunt Margaret stepped out of the carriage and turned to Amy. “This still sounds dangerous to me. We will discuss this on the way back from our calls.”
Thinking perhaps it had been a mistake to tell her aunt as much as she had and grateful she hadn’t told her everything, especially the part about William being shot, Amy trudged behind her up the steps to the front door.
The ladies seemed pleased to have Amy and Aunt Margaret visit, although they did mention that they hadn’t been expecting callers. When Amy and her aunt offered to leave, the sisters declined and insisted they stay for tea.
“We missed you at church Sunday,” Amy said, once they all had their tea and it was prepared to everyone’s liking. No biscuits or other sweets were offered with the tea, which Amy took as an indication that the sisters were not expecting them to stay long.
Or perhaps hoping they wouldn’t.
“Yes, sister and I were feeling a bit under the weather. I think we might have caught a chill.”
“I hope you are feeling better.” Amy could not help but notice that Miss Gertrude wore some sort of face makeup that was doing a poor job of hiding a few scratches on her face.
“It appears you’ve been injured, Miss Gertrude.” Amy smiled, trying to appear sympathetic. “Nothing serious, I hope.”
The woman waved her hand. “ ’Twas nothing. There is a cat that comes around occasionally. I told sister we should not be feeding the thing. Especially since the last time we did, it scratched my face.”
“Oh dear. Well, do be careful, because those sorts of injuries can cause infections,” Aunt Margaret said.
Silence fell, and Amy had the feeling the ladies were uncomfortable and wanted them to leave.
They shared some innocuous conversation about the weather, Bath traffic, the conditions of the road, and the Queen’s birthday.
As Amy took her last sip of tea, she decided she would try one more question and then depart. “Will we see you at the book club meeting on Thursday?”
Miss Penelope smiled. “Oh yes. We just love the meetings, don’t we, sister?”
“Yes. Everyone in the club is so very friendly too.”
Silence.
Amy looked over at Aunt Margaret. “I believe we have other calls to make?”
“Yes.” Aunt Margaret gathered her gloves and reticule. The four women walked to the door, and Amy couldn’t help but think that the sisters were accompanying them to make sure they left.
It had been a strange visit. Short and awkward.
As they shrugged into their coats, air-kissing commenced, along with good-byes and See you on Thursday.
Once they were settled in the carriage, Aunt Margaret said, “Well, they certainly weren’t welcoming. I’m afraid this was a waste of your time.”
“Not at all.” Amy glanced out the window, then back over at Aunt Margaret. “I couldn’t help but wonder if the ‘chill’ they caught and the scratches on Miss Gertrude’s face had anything to do with William chasing down the person who attempted to escape with the ledger.”
She had obviously startled her aunt. “What? I thought you said—or at least I assumed—that it was a man who absconded with the ledger and who William chased through the woods.”
“That’s what we thought, but since we didn’t see the person’s face and whoever it was wore a cap of some sort, now that I think about it, it could have been a woman. William mentioned the person stumbled. If it was Miss Gertrude, she could have been scratched by branches.”
Amy considered how William had describe
d the thief. A bit taller than medium height, he’d said, and of medium build. Miss Gertrude was certainly tall enough to be a man, and although she was quite thin, a bulky coat could give her a studier appearance.
Aunt Margaret studied her for a minute. “I would suggest the next thing you work on is finding out if Miss Gertrude is capable of climbing out of windows and running through the woods in the dark.”
Amy nodded. “It doesn’t seem likely, though, does it?”
* * *
William had just spent the worst three hours of his life. Detectives Carson and Marsh had fired questions at him from every direction. If William hadn’t had Mr. Nelson-Graves, the barrister, there with him, he was almost sure he would be looking at the world from behind bars.
Mr. Alfred Lawrence, William’s solicitor, had joined in during the questioning also, requesting a copy of the file that contained the incriminating evidence. The detectives seemed reluctant to share a copy but bowed to the man’s request when Mr. Nelson-Graves mentioned getting the court involved.
At the end of it all, William’s head pounded, and he felt as though he’d been in the interview room for days instead of hours.
“I believe we are finished for now.” Detective Carson turned to William. “Do not leave Bath for any reason.”
As William breathed a sigh of relief, Mr. Nelson-Graves and Mr. Lawrence gathered notebooks, pencils, and files in preparation to leave.
“Detective, I wish to put you on notice that my client is not guilty of any crime. It appears from this interview and your evidence that crimes have been committed against him.” Mr. Nelson-Graves looked every bit the well-respected and powerful barrister he was.
“That’s your department, barrister. Our job is to find the person who most likely got Mr. James Harding drunk, then enticed him to walk along the river, and then shoved him in.” Carson pointed a finger at William. “Your client had every reason to commit the crime.”
“I suggest you turn your attention elsewhere, Detective. I would hate to see the department appear foolish to the public by falsely accusing a man of the nobility and member of the House of Lords of a horrendous crime.”
The Sign of Death Page 16
