A Crimson Warning (29 page)

He balled his right hand into a fist and released it, again and again in rapid succession. “No, Lady Emily, you’re off the mark on this one. It doesn’t happen except in fiction.”

Unethical business practices didn’t cause him any unease, but his entire demeanor had changed when he spoke about elections. That gave me enough for the moment. I would figure out what to do with it later. “What do you think of this business with Lady Glover? It’s terrifying, isn’t it?”

“I imagine she’s undaunted, even in the face of abduction,” he said. “She’s a brave girl and will come out of this with stories to dine on for years.”

“You’re not worried about her?”

He sighed and flushed just a little. “I am. But I’m trying not to give up hope altogether. Too easy to fall into despair if one thinks on it too much.”

“After what happened to Cordelia Dalton, we’re all on edge.”

“Of course,” he said. “Try not to trouble yourself with it. It will be sorted out. Forgive me, but I must be off. I’ve a meeting with the prime minister. It’s been a pleasure speaking with you.”

“It’s always a delight to spend time with you,” I said.

He got up to leave, but turned back as he was about to leave the room. “Emily, next time you want me to come to you, there’s no need to pretend it’s your husband who’s in need of company. I assure you I’ll always give you my utmost discretion.”

*   *   *

Four hours after Mr. Foster left me, the
Post
ran a special evening edition. A boy from the East End who rented his affections by the hour had sold them his story, and all the lurid details of his encounters with Mr. Stanbury had been exposed for public consumption.

*   *   *

Colin came home at nearly seven o’clock. “You’ve seen the paper?” he asked, tossing a copy of the
Post
on my desk.

I nodded. “We need to talk about Mr. Foster. I saw him this afternoon.”

“You didn’t speak to him about the papers you found, I hope?”

“No. I knew you’d want me to leave that to you,” I said. “But I’ve learned quite a bit today, and your friend, Mr. Foster, may not have quite the character you’d like to think.” I told him everything that transpired.

“Well done, Emily,” Colin said.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that Mr. Stanbury’s secret was exposed so soon after I’d unnerved Mr. Foster? Mr. Stanbury, who’s also connected to that dreadful match factory?”

“Foster got agitated when you mentioned election fraud, not the mistreatment of working class,” he said. “Why would that push him to do anything to Stanbury? And Stanbury’s secret didn’t have to do with the factory. I’m telling you, Emily, the factory isn’t what you think.”

“I despise the place,” I said.

“I know,” he said, placing his hand softly on my cheek. “I’ve spoken to our solicitors and set up an account for you to use. We will look for a building in a suitable location and you can design a better plan for Mr. Majors’s charges.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I still don’t trust Mr. Foster, though I am sorry I seem to have made him think I was sending for him on false pretenses.”

“You did send for him on false pretenses.”

“Yes, but not
those
false pretenses. You must make a point of letting him know we’re blissfully happy so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.”

“Gentlemen don’t speak to each other in such ways,” he said.

“Could you not make an exception, just this once?”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “It’s a good lesson for you.”

“You’re a savage,” I said.

“Good work with the bottle, though. And I’m pleased you got Scotland Yard to assist you without me.”

“I was rather happy about that myself. But we need to return to the subject of your good friend, Mr. Foster. You’re going to have to tell me what happened with him last night.”

“I’ve already shared all I can,” he said.

“So would you prefer that I draw my own conclusions from the bits of conversation I overheard? ‘
We’re not going back. That would be untenable
.’ Or do you prefer, ‘
What am I to tell everyone? Scotland Yard? My wife?
’
”

“How did you hear that?” he asked.

“I called at the house to fetch you when Jeremy and I decided to look for Lady Glover. The butler wouldn’t admit me, so I went in through the servants’ entrance and skulked through hallways until I heard your voice. I was planning to announce myself to you, but then I heard what you were saying.”

“Emily!”

I looked away from him, knowing he must be furious.

“Did no one see you?” he asked.

“Two maids and the butler. It’s amazing what walking with an air of authority can accomplish.”

He dropped his head into his hands. I stood up, bracing myself for the inevitable reprimand. I crossed my arms and waited.

“You are bloody good at this, aren’t you?”

This took me by surprise. “I thought you’d be angry.”

“I probably should be. But we’re working together on this, Emily, and if I’m to accept you as a partner in life as well as in work, I can hardly balk when you show this sort of initiative, even if I’d like to.”

“Marrying you was an extremely good decision,” I said.

“Yes, well, I do feel I ought to remind you of that periodically,” he said.

“Do so as often as you feel necessary,” I said. “You won’t find me objecting.”

He kissed me. “Tell me what else you learned today.”

I went through everything, omitting no details, and showed him everything we’d collected.

“Poor Foster!” he said. “He must have been dead worried when you started questioning him.”

“He was—but only when it came to talk of elections. That seems to be the one thing that can cause a crack in his composure. He should, perhaps, be more concerned about the possible exposure of the papers Mr. Dillman hid.”

“He’d be embarrassed by that, but not ruined. He’s a good man, Emily, and I’ll do everything I can to protect him from political trouble.”

“You and Mr. Barnes,” I said. “Maybe Mr. Foster isn’t so good as you both think. I assume the match factory is what Mr. Barnes was worried about. And now you’re ready to dismiss it. Why?”

“Reginald Foster is the man who ought to lead this country when Gladstone’s done.”

“Even if he’s embroiled in business practices that are destroying lives?”

“Would you rather see the country run into the ground by some incompetent lout?” he asked. “I’m as upset by the factory as you are, Emily, and I’m convinced we can find a way to improve the lives of those people. But when it comes to politics, I’m inclined to take a long-term view and support the man best able to lead the empire.”

“What if he killed Mr. Dillman to keep his secrets private? And what if those secrets aren’t limited to the factory, but also to election fraud?”

“Prove it, Emily, and we’ll find ourselves having a very different conversation.”

7 July 1893

Belgrave Square, London

I am no good at subterfuge. I’m afraid everyone around me is beginning to suspect something’s wrong. The only time I can forget what I’ve done and act normal is when I’m helping Emily. Partly, I suppose, because I’m working to stop the person who could destroy me, and partly because active employment gives the mind less time to worry.

Perhaps it’s hideous of me, but I truly enjoyed our adventure in the park. I loved playing a role, pretending to be in another life. A life in which I was doing something that might help save Lady Glover. A life in which my secrets didn’t exist.

I’d never realized how debilitating secrets can be. Am inclined to confess everything, but only once all this is over. If it ends, and the villain is caught before I’m exposed, I’ll own up to what I’ve done. There’s no getting away with things like this, only periods of time where one forgets to be frightened of what would happen if everyone knew. I don’t want to face that ever again.

I’m not quite so good at liberating objects from people’s houses. Thank goodness Jeremy was with me at Winifred’s. Still, I can’t feel good about what we’ve done or what we learned.

32

I’d invited Ivy and Jeremy to come for breakfast and a council of war; I wanted to discuss all that we’d learned after we’d split up in the afternoon. Jeremy was much put out, insisting he couldn’t be anywhere before two o’clock in the afternoon, but managed to drag himself out of bed, and at nine o’clock, the four of us were seated comfortably around the table. The breakfast room looked over the garden, but there was no view today. The rain, which had started while we were in the park the day before, had grown heavier overnight, and now showed no signs of stopping. Fog and clouds socked in the town, and all we could see out the rain-streaked windows was a heavy gray mist.

Ivy poured milk in her tea and stirred it. “We spent a very strange afternoon with Winifred. I’m afraid, Colin, that we may need to intervene soon.”

“Why is that?”

“She told us about Mr. Stanbury’s scandal,” Ivy said. “Before the paper came out.”

“I don’t like the woman at all,” Jeremy said. “She gives me the willies. If you could have heard the glee in her tone as she told us.”

“It was disturbing,” Ivy said. “Jeremy did an admirable job of keeping her distracted, though. I’ve brought a sample of her wax.” She stood up and went to the sideboard, where we’d spread out our other clues. I followed her.

“An exact match,” I said.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Ivy said, her voice a bare whisper. “Winifred’s growing more and more fixated on people and their secrets. She…”

“What?” Colin asked.

“… she told us she’s keeping a list. A list of people and their secrets. She said she’s going to make sure they’re all exposed.” Ivy’s hands trembled as she sat back down and picked up her teacup.

“Ivy, did she confess anything to you?” Colin asked.

“No,” Ivy said. “But I wouldn’t be more alarmed if she had than I am now. I was surprised she spoke so freely in front of Jeremy.”

“I’m not,” he said. “She took it as an opportunity to warn me off bad behavior.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been so naïve, thinking she ever had my best interests at heart,” Ivy said. “This is an obsession for her, not a kindness.”

I reached for her hand and held it. “You always see the best in people, Ivy, and that’s a wonderful quality.”

“I was stupid,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” Jeremy said. “If anything, your charming habit of adoring everyone around you is endearing. I may throw Emily over for you.”

“You’ve done excellent work, Ivy,” Colin said. “And if you hadn’t accepted Mrs. Harris—and her faults—as a friend, we wouldn’t know to suspect her now. Emily, share with us what you learned from Mr. Foster yesterday.”

I relayed to them the details of our conversation.

“I don’t trust him at all,” Ivy said. “He’s such an appearance of goodness, yet he’s got better motive than anyone else.”

“It’s never wise to trust someone who looks good,” Jeremy said.

“I can’t say I’m sure what I think about him,” I said.

“What about Mr. Barnes?” Colin asked. “He admits he put together the bottle.”

“For Mr. Dillman,” I said.

“What if he learned that Mr. Dillman was trying to destroy Mr. Foster?” Ivy asked. “He could have left the bottle on Mr. Dillman’s step in an attempt to make him stop.”

“It’s possible,” Colin said. “Barnes wouldn’t have had such an easy time getting the respect he has if he didn’t have Foster’s backing.”

“So they both have motive for wanting to keep those papers hidden,” I said. “But Winifred Harris would have no such compunction. If anything, she’d want to expose them.”

“Could she have killed Dillman in an attempt to get them?” Jeremy asked.

Ivy cringed. “I cannot believe her capable of that.”

“I’ve gone through all the files in painful detail,” Colin said. “We don’t seem to be missing anything. None of our three has a credible alibi for the murders—they were all in London at the time and not indisposed. They each have motive, and they each have the ability to move around with enough freedom to have given them opportunity.”

“Our villain, whomever he or she may be, is exceedingly clever,” Ivy said. “Look at all he’s done without leaving any real clues to his identity.”

“It’s true,” Colin said. “You’d think he would slip up eventually and reveal something.”

“He’s like you,” I said. “Maddeningly calm in the face of adversity.”

“Perhaps
I’m
your villain,” he said.

“No, I don’t like you for it,” I said. “You’re too fond of architecture to go around vandalizing people’s houses.”

“That’s quite a vote of confidence,” he said.

Jeremy sighed. “I don’t suppose it ever crossed your mind to suspect me?”

“No,” we all said in unison.

“Another crushing disappointment.”

“I’m sure you’ll recover unscathed,” I said. “And if you don’t, we’ll have to soothe you later. There’s no time now. What we need at the moment is to incite in our villain an emotion strong enough to cause him to make a mistake, preferably one that will lead us to Lady Glover.”

“How do we do that?” Ivy asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said. “But take Mr. Foster, for example. Whatever we did would need to have something to do with elections—they’re the one thing that made him lose his composure. I’m inclined to see what his thoughts are on fraud in such circumstances.”

“Mr. Barnes?”

“He’s knowledgeable about Obeah,” Colin said, “and wouldn’t have remembered how to cast an appropriate spell after all these years away from the culture unless he believed in it at least a little bit. What, in a similar vein, might frighten him into thinking someone is after him? If he’s guilty, he couldn’t help but react.”

“Mrs. Harris deserves a measure of her own medicine,” Jeremy said. “Perhaps we need her to think she’s been beaten at her own game.”

“Find out her secret and expose it?” I asked.

“Precisely,” he said.

“There may be something there,” Ivy said. “But we should focus on Winifred’s attempt to blackmail Lady Glover. Nothing she’s hiding could be worse than facing imprisonment for extortion, and we wouldn’t have to dig around in search of some unknown fact about her.”