CHAPTER 5 #2
But at the moment, something was bothering her about her talks with Billy and O’Malley, though she couldn’t quite identify what it was. She didn’t think they had lied to her, but her intuition told her something was missing from their answers.
Her brows drew together. Perhaps she hadn’t asked the right questions.
Think! What was she overlooking?
After a moment or two, Charlotte pulled a piece of writing paper to the center of her blotter. Wrexford would apply logic, not emotion, to the question. She stared at the blank page, aware of the earl’s recent warning echoing against the back of her skull.
“Mrs. Sloane, you aren’t thinking with your usual clarity.”
Charlotte blinked, willing herself to focus. As she shifted slightly in her chair, her eye caught the pooling of bloodred paint on her palette.
Blood. She was suddenly reminded that Cedric was not the first shocking murder involving mutilation. But neither she nor the earl had given much thought as to whether he was merely another random victim of the madman.
Picking up her pen, Charlotte slowly wrote down the names of the other victims. After consulting the reference notes she kept on all her drawings, she added the dates and locations. Would a more careful look at these crimes reveal a telling clue?
It was, perhaps, grasping at straws. But she didn’t dare turn her back on any possibility, preposterous though it might be.
And she had an idea on how to begin.
After quickly rolling up her finished drawing in a length of protective oilcloth, Charlotte made her way up the stairs to the attic aerie.
Raven was sprawled on his bed, reading a book on mathematics, while Hawk was on the rug, sorting through an odd collection of bits and bobs that he had just pulled from his pockets.
Good heavens, was that a mouse’s skull?
“My goodness, what have you there?” she asked, momentarily putting aside her own mission.
“Look, this is a very unusual piece of rock. I think it may be quartz.” Hawk held up a pebble that he had plucked from a tangle of string, bits of paper, and the stub of a pencil. “And I found this seed”—he pointed to a wrinkled, misshapen bean—“near Covent Garden Markets.”
His eyes widened in delight. “And this feather is from the tail of a barn owl. It’s not easy to find them in the city.”
“Mr. Linsley is teaching us all about Alexander von Humboldt,” explained Raven. “He—”
“He is a very famous man of science, and an expert in how the world of Nature all fits together!” interrupted Hawk excitedly. “He traveled to faraway exotic places and collected all sorts of rock, animal, and plant specimens.”
Wrexford had arranged a tutor for the boys.
She had been leery at first—both boys had a natural intelligence, but they had grown up wild in the slums and had a wary streak of independence that didn’t bode well for the discipline of formal lessons.
However, the experiment was proving a great success.
The young man had sparked an enthusiasm for learning.
More than that, he had sensed their particular interests and encouraged them.
“Daft, if you ask me, finding bits of stone and weed interesting,” piped up Raven. However, a quick smile at his brother took the sting out of his words.
“No more daft than thinking a tangle of numbers is fun to unravel,” retorted Hawk.
Charlotte crouched down to take a closer look at the collection. “Fascinating,” she murmured, fingering through the various things that had caught the boy’s eye. “These things intrigue you?”
Hawk nodded. “Mr. Linsley makes the study of the natural world very interesting.” A pause. “He thinks I’m very observant and would make a good explorer.”
“I think he’s quite right.” She ruffled his hair, then reached for one of the scraps of folded paper jumbled among the other objects and smoothed it out. It was a pencil sketch of a leaf from the rowan tree growing in the back garden.
“Why, this is lovely!” Hawk’s drawings had always shown a natural exuberance, but this attention to detail was a surprise.
He smiled shyly. “You think so?”
“Indeed, I do.”
“Show her your notebook,” urged Raven. A snicker. “Though it’s filled with bugs and worms, as well as flowers.”
The boy dutifully fetched it from his desk drawer.
Charlotte felt a clench of guilt as she turned through the pages.
How had she missed this? The move to the new house, and her worries over the changes it wrought to life, both for her and the boys, had weighed heavily on her thoughts of late.
As had the demands of her own work. But that was no excuse.
Hawk had a budding talent, and she had failed to see it.
Another fault—and yet another reason to be questioning her own judgment of late.
“You have a real gift for art.”
Hawk’s narrow face lit up at her praise. Which made her feel even more guilty.
“And a sharp eye for Nature,” she said. “We must take a trip to Kew Gardens, where there are all sorts of exotic plants that have been brought back by English explorers.”
Hawk’s eyes widened. “Mr. Linsley says Kew Gardens is a very magical place.”
“We will go there soon, I promise,” Charlotte said decisively. Death must not be allowed to override Life. She turned to Raven. “Would you like to come, too?”
He raised his nose from the book, his expression turning oddly tentative.
Unlike those of his younger brother, his inner feelings weren’t always easy to discern.
“Not really.” The bed creaked as he shifted against the pillows.
“Mr. Tyler has asked if I want to assist him in Lord Wrexford’s laboratory on the days I don’t have lessons.
He said I could be of help in calculating some of the equations they need for their chemical experiments. ”
It was said casually, but Charlotte sensed it meant more to him than he was letting on.
His innate talent for mathematics had recently become apparent.
“That sounds like a very exciting project.” She hesitated.
The earl was careless about a great many things, but science was not one of them.
He was very serious and disciplined about his experiments.
“And Wrexford is aware of the arrangement?” she asked gently.
“Aye,” answered Raven. “Mr. Tyler said he suggested it.”
Another surprise. Though after a moment’s thought, she realized it shouldn’t be. For all his mercurial moods and snappish sarcasm, Wrexford had always been very tolerant of the boys.
“Well, then, by all means, you must take advantage of such a splendid opportunity.”
Raven gave a small shrug. Unlike his younger brother he was guarded about showing his emotions.
But she saw through the fringe of his dark lashes a glimmer of happiness at her approval.
“I s’pose it may be halfway interesting.
Mr. Tyler says I can help him polish the instruments, and perhaps learn how to work the microscope as well. ”
“Excellent,” murmured Charlotte, uncomfortably aware that another debt of thanks must be added to the earl’s side of the ledger. The tally was growing dangerously unbalanced.
Seeing her shift the rolled drawing from hand to hand, Raven quickly set his book aside. “You need for us to deliver that?”
“What?” She had nearly forgotten why she had come. “Oh, yes. I’d be grateful if you would. Mr. Fores is expecting it.”
Both boys were up in a flash.
“And then, after that,” she added slowly, “if you are willing, I could use your help in another task.” Charlotte didn’t like to ask it, but with Nicky’s life hanging in the balance, she set aside her reluctance. The boys were the only ones who could do the task.
“As if you need to ask, m’lady,” replied Raven, fixing her with a reproachful look. His gaze then turned probing. “Does it have to do with the toff who was knifed in the Palace gardens?”
“Oiy, what can we do to help?” chimed in Hawk.
They were frighteningly quick to sense trouble—a skill that had likely kept them alive in the dog-eat-dog world of the stews.
“Yes, it concerns the gentleman who was killed on the night of the scientific soiree.” Charlotte took out her notes on the Bloody Butcher murders. “I have reason to believe that the person arrested for the crime is innocent,” she explained.
“They say his brother did it,” said Hawk, his expression turning troubled.
“Yes, and I think they’re wrong,” assured Charlotte. The boys had survived a grim childhood with only each other to depend on. The idea of such an ultimate betrayal must seem like an unimaginable evil. “But I must try to gather the proof of it.”
“Go on,” said Raven, in unconscious imitation of the earl’s coolly detached drawl.
A ghost of a smile passed over her lips, before her expression quickly tightened. “I need to dig deeper and learn more about the Bloody Butcher’s first three murders. Someone must have seen something. A detail, no matter how small, might help me figure out the identity of the real killer.”
The people who lived in the shadows of the city’s alleyways and hellholes had not offered any help to the authorities. But with the right coaxing, they would speak freely to the boys and their ragged band of urchin friends.
“I’m looking for anything,” continued Charlotte. “The description of any stranger spotted in the neighborhood, the sound of a voice, a footprint—every detail, no matter if it seems unimportant, is key to gather.”
She rechecked her notes and gave them the locations, along with a reminder of the dates and time of day. The denizens of the streets didn’t gauge time by clock or calendar, but they would remember the murders on account of the mutilations.
Raven nodded in understanding. “We’ve friends in those areas. If anyone saw something, we’ll winkle it out of them.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte thought for a moment.
“I know you’ve done it once, but please ask again around Kensington Gardens.
Your contacts said they saw naught but gentlemen leaving the grounds around midnight .
. .” Including Nicholas. “But if possible, I’d like a more complete description of them.
” It might only be grasping at air, but she couldn’t afford to overlook any chance of finding a telltale clue.
The boys quickly fetched their jackets. She passed over the print and followed them down the stairs to the front door.
“One last thing—both you and your friends must be very careful in how you go about the questioning,” cautioned Charlotte, keeping hold of the latch for a moment. “Whoever is responsible for these crimes is a ruthless killer. He won’t hesitate to strike again.”