The Sign of Death

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The Sign of Death Page 24

by Callie Hutton


  The poor woman attempted to pull herself together. She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. “I received a letter in today’s post. The writer of the missive claims to be in possession of the information Mr. Harding had and said he intended to continue with the blackmail.” Her hurried words ran together.

  Amy was shocked. Since she had the ledger, how did the author of the letter know whom Mr. Harding was blackmailing? Did Harding have a partner?

  “I know you and Lord Wethington have been doing a search for Mr. Harding’s killer, so I thought maybe you would know who this person is.” She continued to wring her hands around the handkerchief.

  Amy shook her head. “No, I am afraid not. However, let me speak with Lord Wethington about this and see if we can help in any way. In the meantime, do not agree to meet this person.”

  “But what am I to do?”

  She studied the woman for a minute. “Is your secret so very terrible that it is better to continue paying someone than have it come to light?”

  “Oh, yes!” Miss Gertrude reared back, her eyes wide. “It was something I had no control over, but if it is discovered, I would lose my position in society, church, and even here in the book club.” She shook her head furiously. “No. I could never let that come to light.”

  From Miss Gertrude’s demeanor and words, Amy suspected they could cross her off their list of suspects. She was much too distraught. Unless, of course, she was upset at the idea of having to kill another person. Two down and one more to go?

  One would think that picking up where Mr. Harding left off in blackmailing his victims could be risky, since the man had been murdered. Amy squeezed the woman’s hands. “Lord Wethington and I will do everything possible to help. But I wish to restate, do not agree to meet anyone, anywhere. The situation is much too dangerous.”

  Miss Gertrude slumped. “Thank you. I feel better just knowing the two of you might be able to help. I can’t continue to pay. I’ve been taking the money from the inheritance our father left me and sister. It was supposed to last the rest of our lives. If I keep paying, the rest of our lives would not be more than a few more years.” She shook her head. “That is so unfair to Penelope.”

  Amy wasn’t sure if Miss Gertrude was attempting humor or if she was serious about how dire their money situation had grown.

  “I will be in touch with you. Please try to calm yourself. You have a friend in me and Lord Wethington.”

  A lone tear tracked down Miss Gertrude’s cheek. “Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to have you and Lord Wethington as friends.”

  Mr. Colbert called the meeting to order, and the members took their seats. Lady Wethington had come with Mr. Colbert, and she sat right at the front no more than five feet from him.

  Mr. Davidson and Mr. Rawlings entered and took seats together on one of the settees.

  Amy considered herself a sophisticated woman of the world, so she tried very hard not to stare at the two men. She had no feelings one way or the other about their sort of relationship; she just wished she didn’t know quite so much about them as she did now.

  “Friends, this week our discussion is on The Lady in White. I hope the ladies did not find it too strong for their nerves.”

  The women all shook their heads.

  “In that case, let us start our discussion.”

  Mr. Davidson raised his hand. “Before we begin, Mr. Colbert, have you received any more information on Mr. Burton? Will he or will he not appear?”

  “The latest news is the publisher is certain he will appear.”

  Several people smiled and nodded to each other. Amy felt her stomach sink to her feet. Papa had not said anything more about her appearance at the book fair since she handed him the last letter from the publisher threatening a lawsuit.

  She’d been so thrilled when William disagreed with her papa in suggesting that they find a man to take her place. William was truly a remarkable man. If she ever were to consider marriage—she gulped at the thought—William would be her choice.

  The meeting seemed to drag on forever, since Amy was anxious to speak to William about Miss Gertrude’s revelation regarding her blackmailer. She was also eager to find the ledger in her room to make sure she still had it. How it would have disappeared was questionable, since she had servants in the house at all times. However, common sense said there must be some way the author of the letter to Miss Gertrude had gotten her name.

  Near the end of the discussion, Aunt Margaret took a seat at the back of the room and was mostly ignored by everyone as she sketched her drawing. She’d managed to angle herself so she could see Mr. Davidson’s face clearly.

  Eventually, Mr. Colbert closed the meeting, and Amy, William, and Aunt Margaret left the room. Since Amy didn’t want Aunt Margaret to know too much about what she and William were up to, she decided not to speak about Miss Gertrude while in Aunt Margaret’s presence.

  As their carriage pulled away, Mr. Colbert was helping William’s mother into his carriage. William noticed and snorted.

  “Here is your sketch of Mr. Davidson,” Aunt Margaret said as she handed the drawing to Amy. “I just hope you aren’t going to use this to get yourselves into more trouble.”

  Amy held it up to the lamp hanging on the wall of the carriage. “This is wonderful, Aunt Margaret.” She passed it off to William, who also viewed it.

  “Yes. You are a very good artist, Lady Margaret. It appears your family is quite talented.” They chatted about the book they had discussed that night and would continue to read the coming week. Some books took two or three weeks to discuss to everyone’s satisfaction, whereas others required only a week. Since this book was more complicated than some of the other tomes they had read, it would most likely take three weeks.

  Silence fell as the carriage made its way through the Bath traffic and onto the quieter streets where Amy and Margaret’s house lay.

  “You are both so quiet,” Aunt Margaret said. “Is something going on that I don’t know about?”

  Amy shook her head. “No. I don’t know about his lordship, but I’m just a bit tired.”

  Just a few minutes later, they arrived. William helped Aunt Margaret out of the carriage, and when she waved him off, he climbed back in. “I have the feeling there is something you want to tell me.”

  “Yes. I spoke with Miss Gertrude tonight—you might have seen us when we first arrived at the bookstore.”

  “I did. She seemed upset, and I didn’t want to interfere. What happened?”

  “What happened is something I do not understand. She said she received a letter earlier today from someone who claimed he knew about her secret and intended to keep accepting the money Mr. Harding was taking.”

  William let out a low whistle. “That doesn’t seem possible. Unless Harding had a partner.”

  “Either that or the ledger has been stolen.”

  “Then let’s check.” He helped Amy out of the vehicle, and they both made their way to the front door.

  Stevens opened it for them. “Good evening, my lady, my lord.”

  Distracted, they both nodded and, without removing their coats, walked upstairs to the drawing room, where William waited as Amy took the stairs to the bedchambers floor.

  Out of breath from hurrying and nervousness, Amy headed straight for her small office right outside her bedroom. She took a quick look around. Nothing seemed to be out of place.

  She went directly to the drawer in her desk where she kept the ledger and gasped.

  The ledger was gone.

  William was pacing the drawing room, his hands behind his back, when she returned.

  “It’s gone.” Amy flew through the doorway, panting. “I can’t believe it, but it’s gone.”

  “How is that possible? There are servants here all the time.”

  She shook her head, sat on the sofa, and placed her hand over her thumping heart. “I know. But there are times when the few servants we have might be out of th
e house, or in their rooms resting while on a break. Any number of things.”

  “Which means someone’s been watching your house.”

  “Correct. But how did they know it was here? It could have just as likely been at your house. I’m assuming it’s the same person who tried to get the ledger from Harding’s house, then went through the window and dropped it in the mud.”

  “And shot at us.” William ran his fingers through his hair.

  Amy rubbed her palms up and down her arms. “I don’t like the idea of someone being in my house.” She shuddered. “In my room.”

  William reached out and pulled her to him. Wrapping his arms around her, he said, “Make sure you lock the door to your room every night.”

  She nodded.

  “And the windows.” He placed his finger under her chin and raised her head. “Who is at home now?”

  “Aunt Margaret, of course, and I believe Papa. He said at dinner that he was going to stay in and spend a quiet night at home. Michael, however, is out somewhere.” Amy leaned back. “I can’t tell Papa about the break-in. He would be furious with me for getting involved in this.”

  “I never should have let you keep the ledger here. I should have taken it to my house.”

  “How do you know whoever it was didn’t search your house first?”

  “I don’t know, and now I have reason to believe I did not misplace my appointment book after all and someone has been to my house as well. Maybe looking for both the ledger and the appointment book.

  “I will do a thorough check of my house when I return tonight. However, I can’t risk you getting hurt. I will ask Stevens to summon your father, and I will tell him everything.”

  “No! He will probably confine me to my room for the rest of the year.”

  “Amy.” He viewed her with raised brows. “This has gone on long enough. This is my problem, not yours. Harding was my man of business. I am the one charged with his murder.”

  She pulled away and rested her hands on her hips. “I thought we were partners.”

  “We are. Or I should say we were. Things have changed. I should have stopped this when we were shot at.”

  She plopped onto the sofa. “I feel like we’re so close.”

  He joined her. “I’ve been feeling for a while now that there is something right in front of me that I should be seeing, but I’m not.” He pounded his fist on his thigh. “The problem is, there are several people who have stated that they were either very happy that Harding is dead or would have killed him, given the chance.”

  “People say those things, but rarely do they follow through. Whoever did this was able to perform a second murder as well. We’re looking for someone who not only had a reason to kill him but the temperament to actually do it. Which I can’t help but think leaves out Miss Gertrude, I’m sure.”

  “No one is left out until this is over.”

  “But she came to me so distressed that she received that letter.”

  William stood. “I will not speak with your father tonight, but you must promise me you will go nowhere outside this house alone. Preferably, if you do go somewhere, you will go with me.”

  “Actually, I could use a day to work on my book.”

  “Good. Stay in tomorrow. If you need to go anywhere, send me a missive. Either I will be at home working on my finances or my butler will know where I am to send word.”

  * * *

  The next day William pulled out the bottom drawer of his desk, still searching for his appointment book, and groaned. The drawer was piled high with discarded newspapers, loose papers that he had thought at one time were important, and receipts that should have been filed away. No wonder his finances were a mess. He really needed to be more organized. Depending on his man of business had landed him in a dangerous spot.

  He pulled out the stack and began to go through them, placing them in piles: some to be burned, some to be saved, and some to be given to his new man of business.

  “William, I am taking a short trip into town, so I will be using the carriage. Have you need of it?” His mother entered the room, full of life and enthusiasm as usual.

  “No. I plan to organize myself this morning. If I decide to go out this afternoon, I can take my horse, so keep the carriage for as long as you need it.”

  She stared at his desk. “Oh my, you do have quite a pile there. When was the last time you sorted through that?”

  “Too long, to be sure.”

  He placed an old, folded newspaper on the desk, and it caught his mother’s eye.

  She picked it up. “Oh, I loved this play.” Her eyes moved back and forth as she read the advert for a Drury Lane theater in London. “I saw it with your father many years ago.” She hugged the newspaper to her chest.

  “What play is that?” She seemed to want to talk about it, and he could certainly give her a few minutes of his time.

  “Othello. It was well performed when your father and I saw it. However, years later I saw the play again with your sister before she moved to France. Iago in that performance was played by Patrick Whitney, one of the best actors ever.”

  William’s head snapped up, and his hand stilled as he was reaching for a paper. “Did you say Patrick Whitney?”

  “Yes. A very well-known actor. First in Dublin and then in London. However, he disappeared off the stage a few years ago.”

  William told himself to calm down. Patrick Whitney was not an unusual name.

  “Mother, what did Patrick Whitney look like?”

  She thought for a minute and then described his Patrick Whitney perfectly.

  “And you say he no longer appears on the stage?”

  “No. Not that I’ve heard. I still visited the theater quite a bit when I lived in London, but he hasn’t done a play for at least two years that I know of. I wonder what happened to him?”

  William sat and let out a huge breath. “I think he is right here in Bath.”

  “Indeed? Is he still acting? I would love to see him in a play once again. He had such a talent for bringing his character to life.”

  William studied his hands for a minute, his mind in a whirl, then looked up at his mother. “He may very well be acting again. Yes, perhaps he is, but not on the stage.” He stood and walked around the desk. “If you will excuse me, Mother, I think I will take that ride now instead of later. Enjoy your shopping trip.”

  “Wait! What about this stack of papers?”

  He waved as he left the room. “I will deal with them later.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Amy lifted Persephone and stared at her very rounded body. “We need to take more walks, my love. You are getting quite chubby.”

  “She’s probably breeding.” Aunt Margaret walked into the breakfast room and pulled out the chair across from Amy.

  “Breeding?”

  “Yes. Increasing, pregnant, expecting, gravid, with child—or rather, with puppy.” She shook out her napkin and placed it on her lap. “You are going to be a grandmother.”

  Amy looked wide-eyed back and forth between Aunt Margaret and Persephone. “How did that happen?”

  Aunt Margaret took a sip of her tea. “I know you are an unmarried, gently bred woman, Amy, but I am quite sure you have some knowledge of the workings of reproduction.”

  “Of course I do.” She raised her chin. “However, Persephone is never out of the house.”

  “Given how strange she’s been acting lately and her ‘chubbiness,’ I would say she did manage to escape her confines at some point.”

  “Persephone, you have been a naughty girl.” Amy shook her head. “I have no idea how to deal with a dog giving birth.”

  “My dear, dogs have been giving birth since the beginning of time with no help from humans. When the time comes, she’ll let you know.”

  Amy continued to look at Persephone. “I think I shall go to the bookstore and see if I can find any books on dogs’ breeding.”

  “How goes your investigation into James’s murde
r?”

  “Not well, I’m afraid. We have a few suspects, but no one who really stands out. What is troubling is that just about everyone we’ve spoken to has indicated that, given the opportunity, they would have done away with the man. He certainly made a lot of enemies in his life.”

  “Strange. James had been doing business here in Bath for years. I wonder what made him turn to crime only recently?”

  “William shared some confidential information with me that explained what happened. All I can tell you is he made some bad decisions and choices starting not too long after William hired him.

  “This morning I am taking a trip into town to see a woman whom we’ve questioned once before. Mrs. Edith Burrows owns a hat shop, and she was also being blackmailed by Mr. Harding. She was not anxious to speak with us when William and I visited her before.”

  “Why do you think she will speak to you now?”

  “I’m not sure she will, but she does have some lovely hats, and one in particular I might purchase. I’m hoping to work in a few questions while I shop.” Amy took one more look at Persephone, shook her head, and left the room to the dog’s wails.

  * * *

  When Amy arrived at the store, two women sat in front of small mirrors at a long table, trying on hats. Mrs. Burrows’s lips tightened when she saw Amy, but then she offered a slight smile. “Lady Amy, how pleasant to see you again.”

  “And you as well, Mrs. Burrows.” She walked up to the table that the store owner stood behind. “I would like to try on a few hats.”

  Mrs. Burrows relaxed her stiff stance and offered an even brighter smile. “That’s wonderful. Please have a seat and tell me the hat for which you have a fancy.”

  Amy chatted easily with the other customers while she tried on a number of lovely hats. Once the store emptied out, she said, “I think I would like to purchase these.” She pointed to the two lovely confections sitting on the table in front of her.

  “Splendid choices, my lady. They both looked exquisite on you.”

  As Mrs. Burrows commenced wrapping up the hats, Amy said, “It must be nice to no longer have to pay Mr. Harding.” She quickly smiled at the woman in sympathy, hoping she wouldn’t throw her two hats at her.

 

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