CHAPTER 6 #2
“No, milady, I did not attend this university, or any other institution of higher learning,” he replied. “I learned what I know about roads and bridges by being apprenticed to various architects and builders involved in such projects.”
“Practical experience is often the best education,” she observed.
No reply.
Undeterred by his silence—she was used to winkling information out of far more intimidating individuals—Charlotte pressed him with another question. “So how did you come to be part of the society?”
“Milton came to work for a time on a project in which I was involved.”
Charlotte noted that Wheeler did not call him Jasper.
“On completing his part of the project, he said that he was impressed by my skills and arranged a position for me with Thomas Telford.”
“You must be very skilled indeed,” she murmured.
Telford was recognized as Britain’s leading civil engineering wizard.
His expertise lay in building canals, roads, and bridges, including the creation of a master plan for improving transportation in the Scottish Highlands and the design for the celebrated Pontcysyllte Aqueduct over the River Dee.
Wheeler ignored the compliment. “Our paths crossed briefly on several other projects. Milton then invited me to be a member of the Revolutions-Per-Minute Society as my current position is in the area and allows me to attend the monthly meetings.”
“Then seeing as you have a personal connection to Milton, you must have some thoughts on whether someone might have wished him ill.”
A spasm of emotion altered his expression, but it passed so quickly that Charlotte might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching him so intently.
“Mr. Wheeler, we are trying to solve a murder. Surely you would not want to hold back any information that might help.”
He still said nothing.
“I assure you that Mrs. Sheffield and I are not motivated by frivolous curiosity. We have some experience in ensuring that criminals are brought to justice for their crimes.”
That finally drew a reply. “I am aware of that, Lady Wrexford. I read the newspapers—perhaps a bit more carefully than most. And so I have noticed that your husband is occasionally mentioned as having aided Bow Street in quashing some malicious evil.”
Wheeler hesitated, his gaze flicking to the open doorway before locking with hers. “The question is, are you interested in the truth, or merely hearing what is convenient?”
“Truth and convenience are two very different concepts. They have nothing to do with one another,” replied Charlotte. “But you must decide whether I am capable of separating them.”
“Even if it affects a close friend?”
“Truth is truth. It looks the same whether one sees it in sunlight or shadow.”
Jaw tightening, Wheeler considered her words.
“Very well.” He released a pent-up breath.
“A week ago, I happened to overhear a conversation between Milton and Mrs. Sheffield’s cousin at our local tavern.
It was late, and there were few people around.
They hadn’t seen me sitting in the shadowed nook near their table, and before I could reveal myself, they started arguing—quite fiercely, in fact, though they kept their voices low. ”
“About what?” asked Charlotte.
“I don’t exactly know,” responded Wheeler.
“It had to do with the plans for some sort of engineering innovation. Milton had apparently decided what to do with it, and Oliver Carrick was furious with him. He tried to convince Milton to change his mind—and when he wouldn’t, Carrick said there would be hell to pay, and Milton must be prepared to suffer the consequences. ”
“Those were his exact words?”
A grim nod. “Yes, milady. Carrick then stormed off. Milton finished his mug of ale—he sounded as if he had already imbibed several—and then he, too, left.”
For an instant, Charlotte couldn’t help thinking of an old adage—Be careful what you ask for. But of course she knew that one couldn’t pick and choose the facts if one truly believed in the concept of Justice.
No matter how much they might hurt.
Wheeler’s next words were an even more visceral reminder of that.
“It was not my place to spread gossip about a private altercation. But now that you have told us the news of Milton’s murder, I shall have to inform the proper authorities of what I witnessed,” he reflected.
“Empirical evidence is the linchpin of science. If it is ignored, it can cause a false conclusion.”
Put that way, it took on a rather cold detachment, but she couldn’t muster any argument.
“Is there a magistrate in charge of the investigation to whom I should recount the facts of what I witnessed?”
Charlotte gave him Whalley’s name and location.
The return of Cordelia and the other two men curtailed any further probing, but she had already sensed that she would get nothing more out of Wheeler.
* * *
“That was bloody clever of you to create mayhem!” chortled Raven, after passing around the platter of ginger biscuits that McClellan had sent up to welcome Peregrine back to the nest. “But how did you manage to make the stink bomb without one of the other boys noticing?”
The crunch-crunch of the sweets roused Harper from his slumber and drew a baleful stare.
“Cousin George is much nicer than my late Uncle Belmont,” replied Peregrine. “He readily agreed to pay for a private bedchamber in my lodgings when I told him that I needed quiet in order to concentrate on my studies.”
Most Eton students were housed in private lodgings in the town. Only the King’s Scholars—boys who received scholarships to attend the elite school—actually lived in the school’s buildings.
“Given the chemicals we selected for you, the smell must have been disgusting,” said Hawk.
“Oiy, it was so noxious that a number of the students puked, which only added to the stench,” said Peregrine with a note of satisfaction. “It took several hours for them to clean up the mess and air out the Great Hall.”
Raven’s grin disappeared. “You told us that the schoolmasters at Eton beat boys who break the rules.”
Peregrine, who was lying on his belly, reached for another biscuit. “It was worth it.” Crunch, crunch. “I got the boot, as well as a thrashing. Though they waited a week to summon Cousin George to fetch me in order to allow the welts and bruises on my back and bum to fade.”
Harper pricked up his ears and growled.
“Bastards,” muttered Raven.
“It wasn’t all bad. Mister Angelo comes weekly to give fencing lessons to the Upper School.
And there is a new Classics master who makes reading the Iliad interesting.
He’s not as stuffy as the others. But as for the endlessly dull hours of memorizing Latin declensions and mind-numbing dates in history .
. .” Peregrine made a face. “What if m’lord and m’lady won’t agree to have me here?
I fear Cousin George will either send me to another horrid school or make me stay with Aunt Belmont. ”
“Of course they will!” assured Hawk. He looked at his brother. “Won’t they?”
Raven hesitated. “Dunno,” he admitted. “Your cousin is your legal guardian, which I think makes things complicated.”
“It’s not complicated! It’s simple!” protested Hawk. “We all think of Falcon as part of our family. Ergo, he belongs here with us.”
“That’s true in principle. But dressing it up in Latin won’t make all the complexities go away,” said his brother. “Wrex and m’lady both know how fraught family relationships can be, and I get the feeling they believe it is morally wrong to meddle where they have no official right to do so.”
“But . . .” Hawk’s voice faltered.
“Let us not imagine the worst,” counseled Raven. “I’m just saying that we have to wait and see.”
* * *
“Do you trust him?” demanded Cordelia, once the two of them had settled into their carriage for the journey home and Charlotte had recounted what Wheeler had told her.
“Ah, that word “trust” again.” Charlotte sat back against the squabs. “He struck me as sincere. But as I know nothing about him, I won’t form an answer based on a first impression.”
The town’s cobblestones gave way to the ruts of the main road heading west.
Wheeler’s answers had stirred several other questions. Awkward as they might be, Charlotte knew that she couldn’t in good conscience avoid asking them.
“How well do you know your cousin?”
Cordelia’s face fell. She was too familiar with investigations not to hear the darker questions hiding behind the seemingly harmless query.
“Not as well as I knew Jasper. It was I who introduced the two of them when they both began their studies at Cambridge. I was already sneaking into Professor Sudler’s mathematics lectures, and they were quick to support my quest for knowledge by helping me gain entrance to some of the other offerings. ”
She seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then continued.
“Oliver and I had a casual friendship, formed over the years of family gatherings. It deepened during his time at university, and we’ve maintained a certain closeness since then.
However, his interests in roads and bridges have kept him moving around to different parts of the country, so it has been some time since we’ve seen each other. ”
A sigh. “That was one of the reasons that I invited him to the wedding. I knew he was currently working within traveling distance, and I thought we might have a chance to spend several days together.”
“Can you think of any reason other than an unexpected travel delay that would have caused him to miss your wedding?”
“No.”
Charlotte hated asking the next question, but it had to be broached. “Were you aware of any reason for your cousin to be angry at Milton?”
“No.” Cordelia turned to the window and watched the cheery hues of the fall foliage flutter by as the carriage picked up speed on a level stretch of road.
“But I’ve seen little of Oliver during the past year, and he’s a terrible correspondent.
So I am as much in the dark about his possible motives as you are. ”