Chapter Twenty-Six
Lady Mary
I waited until the constable left the next morning before sneaking into Perrin’s chambers. Although I knew Adams was eager to receive assistance on this case, I didn’t think that included mine.
“Will you hurry up?” Jane whisper-shouted at me. She stood near the cracked door, one faded blue eye peering out into the hallway. She shook her head, her iron-grey curls jiggling beneath her cap. “The things we do,” she muttered.
“We’ve only just entered.” I refrained from pointing out that I hadn’t asked her to accompany me on this venture. She had decided all on her own that ‘someone needed to watch out for me.’
I went directly to the small desk near the window. I pulled the curtain to the side to give me more light. I probably should have ordered the servants to hang black crepe in the windows, but Perrin had quite a lot of windows and there were no neighbors close enough to see the effort.
Some books lay scattered on the surface of the desk but no letters or even writing implements of any kind. Perrin must have written all his correspondence in his study. A pocket watch with a broken chain was coiled on the small table next to his bed.
I ran my hand over the coverlet. The bed hadn’t been slept in for a week, but it still seemed to hold the memory of its master.
Had Perrin any premonitions when he’d left it last Saturday that he’d never again dent its feather mattress?
Would I know when it was to be my last day?
Succumbing to a long illness didn’t appeal as a manner of death, but there was something comforting about the idea of being aware the end was near.
I didn’t know if I hoped death would take me by surprise, or if I would have time to plan for it, to accept it.
It mattered little what I would hope for. Life, and death, didn’t often give us a choice.
There was nothing but a mildly bawdy novel in the drawer of his bedside table. There was nothing anywhere in the room besides the odds and ends of ordinary life.
I leaned on my walking stick and surveyed the room, my chest hollow. This had been my brother-in-law’s inner sanctum, a representation of his internal life. Shouldn’t there be something more? Something that showed his desires and dreams, his personality?
“Someone’s coming.” Jane shut the door, with much too much force for stealth.
I prepared to beguile my way out of the situation.
The door swung inward, knocking into Jane’s shoulder. Marie poked her head inside. “What are you two doing in ’ere?”
“I was looking for clothes to bury Perrin in.” I was rather proud of that lie and the speed with which I’d devised it.
The effect of it was rather ruined by Jane’s snort.
“Riiight.” Marie slipped inside and shut the door behind her. Quietly.
I glared at Jane. “If you must know, I’m looking for anything that might indicate who killed Perrin. A threatening note would have been nice.”
“I don’t think Lord Perrin got anything like that.” Marie rubbed her nose. “We would’ve ’eard about it.”
Yes, the servants most likely would have. “Marie, do you know if any of the knives were missing before yesterday?” Before one had been plunged into Taylor’s chest.
“The constable asked us all that, too.” She grinned. “That man is an eyeful, ’e is.”
“The knives?” I tried to bring her back to the matter at hand.
Jane hobbled to the desk and sank onto the chair. “She’s right, though. He is handsome.”
“And that is irrelevant.” Goodness, Jane had her chance for decades to ogle good-looking young men. She didn’t need to start in the middle of my investigation.
Marie shifted. “We didn’t keep count. Usually we do, after every meal, but with the master being dead and everyone being trapped ’ere, well, we’ve let a bit slide.”
“Plus, we started using the cutlery as markers in our games,” Jane added. “Who knows what might have gone missing then.”
“You gambled with Perrin’s silverware?” I arched an eyebrow.
“No need to take that tone.” Jane patted her lace cap. “The silverware just represented what we owed. A knife was a shilling, a fork, sixpence. We were running a bit short on coin.”
“So the murderer could have obtained the weapon at any time.” Not helpful. “Marie, have you already cleaned Lord and Lady Havenstone’s room today?”
“Yes.”
I huffed out a breath. “Well, can you clean it again? He became quite upset when reading a letter he’d received the other day. Made a disparaging comment I presume was directed at Perrin. I want to know what was in that letter.”
“You want me to snoop.” The girl planted her hands on her hips.
“It isn’t as though you don’t have practice at it.” And I was becoming more concerned by the hour that the killer might not stop with two deaths.
“Yes, but I felt bad about it, each time,” Marie said. “Specially now that the guests found out we were doing it.”
“It’s important,” I said quietly.
Marie dropped her arms. “All right, but if I get caught, I’m telling them you sent me.”
“Then don’t get caught.” I jabbed my walking stick into the floor for emphasis.
“Come on then.” Jane held out a hand, and I pulled her to standing. “I’ll keep watch for you, girl.”
I tried to think of an objection that wouldn’t hurt Jane’s feelings but came up empty.
When they reached the door, Marie turned back. “Oh, speaking of post, a letter ’as arrived for you. I put it in your room.”
I hurried after them, turning left toward my room when they turned right. There weren’t many people who knew I was here. It could be a letter from the club, letting me know of a problem that had arisen. Or it could be a response from the one person I’d written to while I’d been at Perrin Manor.
I only hoped he had some answers.
I’d never seen his hand before, but the address to me was just as it was in person. Bold. Hard. With a bit of a flair on the beginning and ending letters. I sat at the desk in my room and opened the missive.
Lady M—
I cannot begin to express the curiosity your letter has inspired in me.
Firstly, that you wrote to me at all, and secondly, as to its contents.
I was a bit disappointed that your inquiries were all pertaining to the patrons of my businesses, with not even a query regarding my health.
Alas, you are forgiven. I am gratified to know, however, that I am the only man of business of ill repute with whom you are acquainted.
As to the particulars of your letter, and the three men you asked about, I can only say the following.
I do not know Mr. Smith. There are no known associations between us.
Mr. Bertram Withers is known to me. To my knowledge, he hasn’t patronized any of my hells, but he is known as someone who likes to gamble. His games only occur in private residences, however, and he seems to only gamble within his means.
As to the third man you requested information of, Lord Havenstone, I have debated long about whether to provide you with the intelligence you requested.
He is a patron of mine, and I don’t readily give up information on my clientele.
Not only that, but by the tone of your letter I deduced you have involved yourself in another dangerous scheme, and that isn’t something I want to encourage.
However, with or without my information, I know you will persist in whatever course you have undertaken.
You are stubborn in that way. And I hope that by being fully informed, you will better be able to protect yourself.
To that end, I am well acquainted with Havenstone.
He has come to one of my hells on a few occasions, usually when he is deep into his cups.
Whether that is the cause, or because he lacks all natural skill at the games, Havenstone always leaves my establishment the poorer.
I have heard that he only tries to win at the tables when he is in dire need of funds.
The first I knew of him was when he lost a sum of money to me two years past. I learned that he had already suffered a financial loss, had hoped to recoup it at my hell, but eventually settled for a loan from me.
As his father-in-law is one of the wealthier members of society, I believed he was good for it, and that indeed was the case as he repaid that loan in full within a year.
Havenstone returned to my hell a month or so again, inebriated once more, losing once more.
The loan I provided to him on this occasion wasn’t for quite so great a sum.
I don’t make it a habit to inquire for what my patrons need funds, and I didn’t alter my habit on these occasions.
I can only say that Havenstone needed money, and I provided it.
I do hope whatever you are involved in won’t impede his ability to repay me on this second loan. For his sake, as well as my own.
And as to your brother-in-law, Lord Perrin, to whose home I am now sending this letter, even though you didn’t ask me about him, I will tell you that he is not allowed within any of my hells. I suspect he cheats at cards, and that is something I will not tolerate.
For purely altruistic reasons, I must caution you against pursuing whatever scheme in which you have now involved yourself. Desperate men are dangerous men, and I have seen Lord Havenstone at his most desperate. I would not want you to see that side of him.
Take care. I look forward to the time when I can ask you to return the favor which you now owe me.
Yours truly,
E.C.
I sagged back in my chair. I decided it did no good to worry over what London’s foremost crime lord would want from me for repayment of a debt. I could do nothing about that situation now. So I turned my thoughts back to the investigation.
Two years ago. Was that when the money Havenstone had invested with Perrin had been lost? And what had happened a month ago? Was Perrin involved in yet another financial loss for the baron? And if so, why would Havenstone come to Perrin Manor for a party?
I laid the letter on the desk, frowning. Mr. Cooke had provided me with more information than I had hoped for, but all it did was leave me with more questions.
And it was time I got some answers.