The Sign of Death

by Callie Hutton

  Just then Persephone raced into the room, jumped up on Amy’s lap, looked over at him, and growled.

  “Your dog just loves me.”

  Amy shook her head and sighed. “I don’t understand what is wrong with her. I have learned that there is a man who practices veterinary medicine in London. I was thinking of taking her there to have her examined.”

  “That is quite a trip; is there no one local?”

  “I will continue to ask around, because I’m not sure I can take her on the railway. I believe there is accommodation in a special car for horses, but I’m not sure about dogs.”

  “Well, that is something to consider once we have all of this straightened out.”

  Amy scooped Persephone off her lap and placed her alongside her on the settee. The dog turned in a circle and then settled right next to Amy’s thigh. Between her and William.

  “Now I want to share with you what I discovered.” She picked up the papers she’d brought into the room with her. “I tried my best to figure out the name of the person on the page that was muddied up.”

  She shifted so she could show William the paper. “This isn’t definite, since I only had a few letters to go by. Probably about every other one was smeared. Here is what I made of the name with our code.” She handed the paper to William.

  His brows rose. “George Davidson?”

  “Yes. Do you know Mr. Davidson’s first name?”

  William shook his head. “I don’t think I do. I never heard him referred to as anything but Mr. Davidson. That should be easy enough to discover, however. If it is our Mr. Davidson, that makes two people in our book club that were being blackmailed by Harding.”

  Amy nodded. “Who would think quiet book club members would have done something so horrid that they were willing to pay Mr. Harding to keep his mouth closed?”

  “You never know, do you?” His thoughts immediately went to Mr. Colbert, who was also a very benign, innocuous sort of man, and was also interested in his mother. It would do well to investigate him too. After they found the murderer. “I think our next step is to see if this man is our Mr. Davidson, and if he is, do some investigation on him.”

  “I agree, since it appears the police have no intention of doing their job correctly and fairly.” Amy tapped her chin. “Davidson is almost always at the Assembly. Since I’ve never seen him dance with anyone and he’s not terribly social, I’ve often wondered why he attends. But I suggest we spend some time with him tomorrow night.” Amy paused. “Were you planning on going?”

  “I have no choice. I must conduct my life as if nothing were wrong. If I hide away, it won’t help our investigation and may start some talk. I want this kept quiet until we can resolve it. My business reputation has already been smeared, thanks to Mr. Harding. I have hired a new man of business, Mr. Frank Wilson, who was recommended to me by your father. He is working with my solicitor to get things straightened out.”

  “Then we shall attend the Assembly and see what we can learn.”

  “Hopefully no one else will be murdered before then, or I may be passing the time tomorrow night in jail.”

  CHAPTER 27

  William had been attending the Saturday night dances for years, but never had he felt so unsure of himself as he did upon entering the well-known Assembly rooms this night.

  Almost as if she understood his dilemma, Amy squeezed his arm as they stepped into the room. Everything looked normal, and no one was staring at him or gasping in horror.

  “No one knows, William,” Amy whispered. For some blessed reason, his arrest had not been in the newspapers. He was certain Mr. Nelson-Graves had something to do with that. Word of a peer’s arrest would undoubtedly spread like wildfire around the city, but nothing here seemed out of the ordinary.

  He breathed a sigh of relief and walked them both to the small circle of book club friends who always made it to these events. He was pleased to see that Mr. Davidson and his friend Mr. Rawlings were part of the group.

  Mr. Colbert had arrived earlier at the Wethington townhouse to escort his mother to the dance. William was happy to see them standing with the others. Mr. Colbert had not absconded with William’s mother. Then he scolded himself for being so very suspicious of a man he’d known for years as an upstanding member of society and the book club.

  But then, William was also considered an upstanding member of society and of the book club. And he had two murder charges as well as some shady business dealings hanging over his head.

  “Good evening, everyone.” William and Amy both spoke at once. They received return greetings, nods, and welcomes.

  The group chatted for a while, giving opinions on the book the club members were currently reading. The music started up, and Amy looked at Mr. Davidson. “Mr. Davidson, I have never seen you on the dance floor. Would you care to partner with me in this dance?”

  Davidson looked like he was about to be executed. Or was about to bring up his dinner. Mr. Rawlings, standing next to him, nudged him in his ribs. “Go dance, George.”

  Amy flicked her eyes at William, who was staring back at her. They had already answered their first question. The chances of there being more than one George Davidson were much lower than the chances of there being more than one Mr. Davidson.

  Mr. Davidson ran his finger along the inside of his cravat and nodded. Instead of taking Amy’s arm, he turned and walked to the area where the other dancers were gathering. Amy looked over at William and shrugged, then followed the man.

  The dance would not allow for much conversation between Amy and Davidson. Even in the few years William had been attending the Assemblies, balls had seen the great variety of dances from the past dwindle to just the waltz and the two-step. The Bath Assembly, however, had kept many of the older dances alive, and this one was a cotillion.

  William watched Amy and Mr. Davidson dance and noted that the man was surprisingly adept at the movements. That left him wondering why he never indulged in dancing. He glanced over at Mr. Rawlings, who watched every move Davidson made.

  Theirs seemed to be a strange relationship.

  “William, I heard from Atkinson and Tucker that there seems to be a problem with E. D. Burton appearing at our book fair,” Mr. Colbert said.

  “Indeed?” William thought back on Lord Winchester’s attempt to get him to agree to hire someone to take Amy’s place at the book event. He hoped it would be resolved and Amy would be granted her due.

  “Did they say what the problem was?”

  Mr. Colbert shook his head. “No. They only said there was an issue with the author. It’s quite possible the man is elderly and doesn’t possess the stamina to deal with such an event. As far as I know, no one has ever seen him.”

  William merely nodded, since there was nothing he could contribute to the conversation. Once the dance ended, Davidson walked with Amy back to the group and mumbled, “Excuse me, my lady, I need some fresh air,” and made a beeline for the front door, leaving Amy behind, and moving so quickly that one would think he was being pursued by wild animals.

  “That was fun,” she said. “I believe I would enjoy a glass of lemonade, my lord. Would you care to accompany me?”

  William took her arm, and they both moved away from the circle and headed toward the refreshment table. “It appears Davidson is a fairly good dancer,” Amy said.

  “Yes, I noticed. I also noticed that Mr. Rawlings seemed to watch Davidson quite a bit.”

  “Do you think he was jealous of his friend?” She grinned. Then the smile faded from her lips. “Do you suppose …” Then she shook her head. “No. That’s ridiculous.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just ignore me, I had a silly idea for a moment.”

  They finished their lemonade and then strolled the room, speaking with various friends and acquaintances.

  “At least we now know the chances are good that our Mr. Davidson is the same Mr. Davidson in Harding’s ledger,” Amy said.

  “Yes, most likely
so. What we need to do now is uncover why he was being blackmailed and then trace his movements at the time of the two murders.”

  “We still don’t know why Miss Gertrude and Mrs. Barrows were being blackmailed.”

  “Yes, that’s true. I wonder if there is a way to find out.”

  Amy smiled as Aunt Margaret and Lord Pembroke passed by, dipping and swirling to the waltz the musicians played. “My lord, we have not danced all evening.”

  William took her by the hand and led her to the dance area. The number was probably halfway over, but if Amy wanted to dance, they would dance.

  A few hours later, having had his fill of dancing and socializing, William happily escorted Amy out of the Assembly building. Mr. Davidson and Mr. Rawlings had exited just before them. The four conversed as they awaited the arrival of their carriages.

  It was the first time William had actually spoken to Mr. Rawlings, who had always kept his thoughts to himself at the meetings. “How are you enjoying our book club, Rawlings?”

  “I do enjoy it. I realize I don’t contribute much, but I listen to what everyone else is saying. I find it quite interesting.” He paused for a moment. “I am looking forward to E. D. Burton’s appearance.” He looked directly at Amy. “I’m sure his arrival will be quite a surprise for everyone. Don’t you agree, Lady Amy?”

  William’s eyes grew wide and he looked at Amy, who appeared to be stunned. She quickly recovered herself, however, and said, “Yes. I imagine it will be interesting to meet the author.”

  Rawlings threw his head back and laughed. The other three just stared at him.

  Just then Davidson’s carriage drew up. Rawlings entered first and Davidson followed. “Well, good night,” he said, and closed the door.

  William’s carriage was next in line. He opened the door for Amy and climbed in after her. Once they were settled, the vehicle rolled forward. “What did Mr. Rawlings mean?” she asked.

  “I have no idea. It was almost as if he knew you were E. D. Burton.”

  “I know. How very strange. I don’t see how he would have that information.”

  “Actually, we know so little about Mr. Rawlings. It’s possible he might know your identity. He might have some contact with your publisher for one reason or another.”

  They continued on their way and soon were stopped in traffic. William glanced out the window and nodded. “I believe that is Davidson’s carriage right next to us.”

  Amy turned her head to look. A gaslight on the other side of the street briefly lit the carriage before it rolled forward. A couple came into view, kissing. Amy sucked in a deep breath and covered her mouth. “That can’t be Mr. Davidson’s carriage!”

  The vehicles began to move again, and William’s fell behind. He thought about what they’d seen and suddenly realized why Davidson had been blackmailed.

  “Amy, I am not sure I should even be discussing this with you, but do you know anything about the book The Picture of Dorian Gray by Mr. Oscar Wilde?”

  “Yes. I’ve read it.”

  William ran his hand down his face. “Of course you have.”

  “I am an enlightened woman, William. As an author, I must read everything. I cannot shield myself from any subject, no matter how displeasing society finds certain topics.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, then you must realize what we just saw could very well have been Mr. Davidson’s carriage. In fact, that explains a lot.”

  “Oh.” Despite her ramblings alluding to her sophistication and knowledge, even in the dark carriage he could see her blush. “Then that means …”

  “Yes. It means precisely what we’re thinking. And it certainly answers some questions and raises a few more. After all the time Davidson has been a member of the club, why did Rawlings show up at the book club when he did? In fact, if memory serves, he appeared with Mr. Davidson right after Harding was killed.”

  He leaned forward, excited by this new idea. “That is probably the reason Davidson was being blackmailed. Such acts are illegal and not only can destroy a man’s reputation but send him to prison. If Harding stumbled upon that information, it would be worth it to Mr. Davidson to pay him to keep it quiet.”

  “And perhaps a reason to kill him so he no longer had to pay.”

  “Yes.” William leaned back. “But that is true of everyone he was blackmailing and cheating.”

  “I never thought I would say this, but poor Mr. Davidson. I don’t understand why, or approve of, the way the government interferes in people’s private lives.” Amy shook her head.

  “I agree, but as long as it is against the law, Davidson must be very careful.”

  “I think it would be worth our time to learn where Mr. Davidson was the night Harding was murdered,” Amy said.

  William gave her a curt nod. “I agree. And then moving along to another matter, what about Mrs. Johnson? We need a sketch of Mr. Davidson to show to people at the pub. If he was there the night she was killed, we might have our man.”

  Amy scooted forward until their knees touched. “And also find out if he has a gun. If it is Mr. Davidson, he was most likely the one who tried to find the ledger and then shot at us.”

  “It appears we have a lot to consider with this new suspect.”

  Once again they were stopped in traffic and found their carriage next to Mr. Davidson’s. This time the curtain was pulled across the window. Amy and William looked over at each other and nodded.

  * * *

  The following Tuesday, Amy rested on the settee with Persephone sprawled on top of her. She studied the little animal’s face with concern. “What is wrong with you, little doggy?”

  Not only was she very clingy, but she was ill-tempered and had put on weight. “Too much eating and lying around and not enough exercise. We must go for a walk today.” Amy sat up and ran her palm over the animal’s soft fur.

  William had spent time with his barrister yesterday and this morning, but Amy expected him any minute. They would take Persephone for a walk and while they were out and about discuss the next steps in their investigation.

  The sound of footsteps coming up to the first floor drew Amy’s attention. Aunt Margaret walked into the drawing room, tugging on her gloves. “It is quite chilly out there today.”

  “Is it really? I was hoping to take Persephone for a walk.”

  Her aunt looked at the dog. “She looks far too comfortable to me to rally herself for a walk.”

  “Aunt Margaret, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  She sat on the settee across from Amy. “I assume this has to do with James’s murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will be happy to oblige. What do you need?”

  “I would like you to accompany me to the book club meeting this Thursday.”

  Her aunt closed her eyes. “Oh Amy, my dear. Anything but that.”

  “Oh, please, aunt. It’s very important, and it’s not so bad.”

  “Sitting around listening to you and your cohorts discussing murder, mayhem, and dead bodies?” She shuddered. “I prefer sunshine and happiness.”

  Amy smirked. “Well.… I did attend some morning calls with you. Besides, you can stuff cotton into your ears if you like. I only need you to do a sketch for me. You are so very good at drawing, I know you can capture one of our members on paper.”

  Aunt Margaret sighed as if she were being asked to take her place at the guillotine. “I will do it for you. And for poor William, who is in a very difficult place right now.”

  “Thank you so much. With your sketch, we might be able to establish that Mr. Davidson was at the pub the night Mrs. Johnson was killed. Then we would be one step closer to solving Mr. Harding’s murder too.”

  “Mr. Davidson from the Assembly dances?”

  “Yes. Do you know him?”

  “I remember meeting him a few times at the dances. He’s an odd man. Very quiet, always seems to be studying everyone.”

  Just then Stevens stepped into the drawing room. “My
lady, Lord Wethington awaits you downstairs.”

  “Thank you.” Amy looked down at Persephone, who looked so very comfortable, and sighed. “I guess I won’t take her for a walk today after all.” Amazingly enough, the dog shifted and closed her eyes, and made no effort to bark when Amy left the room.

  Once she and William began their walk, she told him about Aunt Margaret accompanying them on Thursday for the purpose of sketching Mr. Davidson.

  “I didn’t know your aunt had such talent.”

  “Yes. She does. She paints a little bit too, but drawing is really where her talent lies. I just wish she would do more with it, but she always just considered it a hobby.”

  “Unlike you, who turned your hobby into a career.”

  “Thank you for that, William. Yes, it is my career.”

  The wind picked up, and it grew quite cold for walking. “I think we should go back to your house. I’ll get my carriage and we can ride to a tea shop.”

  Amy nodded, beginning to shiver. “Yes. A very good idea.”

  The walk back was much quicker, and the wind was at their back. William retrieved his carriage from the mews, and his driver soon had them on the road and heading to the center of Bath, where most of the stores and shops were.

  “Can we go to Sally Lunn’s? I haven’t had one of her buns in a long time.”

  “An excellent idea,” William said. “I haven’t been there for a while myself.”

  Sally Lunn’s was housed in one of the oldest buildings in Bath. The secret recipe for its famous buns had been handed down for ages and had earned the tea shop many returning customers. The place was also a favorite spot for tourists.

  “How was your meeting with Mr. Nelson-Graves?”

  William’s demeanor immediately grew more serious. “It’s not looking good, unfortunately. It appears a date for a trial is being worked out with the House of Lords. Since I am a peer, I must be tried there.”

  “Then everyone knows about your charges?”