Chapter Ten #2
Marie’s mouth dropped open in outrage. “That isn’t what I meant. We could speak to them separately.”
“But Lady Mary’s reasoning is sound all the same.” Burton cocked his head. “Besides, I wouldn’t mind you showing me that sweet shop? I still don’t fully know my way around London and would appreciate a friend to show me about.”
For some reason, Marie flushed. “I…well that is…”
My wall shook, and Southey growled.
“Oh for pity’s sake.” I pushed to standing. “Are they repairing the oven or tearing down my kitchen?” I didn’t wait for an answer and stomped out of my office to the next door. A cloud of dust obscured my view when I entered.
“What in heaven’s name is going on here?” I tried to block Southey from entering, but he hopped over my leg.
One of the workmen turned. A kerchief was tied around the lower half of his face, and he tugged it down. “There’s a crack all up your chimney. We have to take out some stones and replace them.”
“That chimney has been there for over a hundred years.” I actually didn’t know the age of the building but a hundred years sounded properly dramatic. “Why is it falling apart now?”
The man scratched his jaw. “Because it’s been there for a hundred years?”
I growled. If something was built well, age shouldn’t be a factor. And I didn’t even want to contemplate the bill for this. “How long until you’re finished?” We had a smaller kitchen off the Tea Room but we needed this oven back up and running.
The worker slapped a large stone file against his palm. “Two days?”
My stomach clenched. I would need to hire out to another kitchen. Another bill. Repairs to fire damage in my club last year had wiped out my operating profit, and I was just starting to run in the black again. “Are you certain the stones need to be replaced?”
The question was a mistake. The worker led me to the hole in the wall that led to the chimney and had me poke my head in the opening.
He tried pointing out all the flaws in the stones, and I nodded my head knowingly even though it was too dark for me to see anything he described. “So you’re saying it’s necessary.”
“Only if you don’t want your cooks to choke on smoke.” He bounced that file again.
“Well, if….” My voice trailed off as the reddened flesh on his palm caught my attention. I grabbed his hand, peering at the crosshatch patterns imprinted on his skin.
“Ma’am?” He was too polite to tug his hand free.
“Your file.”
He held it up. “What about it? It will smooth the edges of the replacement stones.”
My pulse beat quicker. “Can I borrow it?”
“Uh….” He scratched his jaw again. “Sure.”
I took the metal piece and hurried from the kitchen, calling for Southey to follow. I rushed into my office.
Mr. Burton and Marie were leaning toward each other, speaking in low tones. When I came back in, they snapped apart.
“Marie, do you still have those sketches you made of Trent’s stab wounds?” Southey trotted ahead of me, and I frowned at the dusty pawprints he left on my hardwood floor.
“I have them.” Burton dug in his pocket and pulled out a notepad. He opened it to the correct page. “Why?”
I took the pad and laid it on my desk. I placed the file next to it. The tool had a pointed end and both of the flat sides were etched with cross-cut teeth. “What do you think of this?”
Marie and Burton stood and crowded close. “Think of what?” Marie asked.
Burton caught on quicker. He turned the file so it lined up with the wound on the page. “It would have had to be smaller than this one, but it would explain the rough edges of the stab wounds. The file grated against the skin, tearing up the edges.”
“Mr. Trent had several files for smoothing the edges of his tin cans lying about his office.” I drummed my fingers on the desk. “Giving his manager, Mr. Hicks, easy access to the murder weapon. If it was the murder weapon.”
“I can go back to the coroner and see what he thinks,” Burton said.
“No,” I said slowly. “You implied that you were working for Sir Kelsey when you visited the coroner. When he reports his findings back to the magistrate, that might confuse the matter.”
“Then what?” Marie asked.
I slapped the file against my own palm. “I’ll speak with Sir Kelsey myself. He can ask his man to confirm it.”
Someone knocked at the open door, and I turned. The workman stood there, holding his cap in his hands. “Ma’am? If you don’t mind, I need my file back.”
*
The worker didn’t get his file back, though I did give him some money to go purchase another. His I took to Sir Kelsey’s offices after going back home to pick up Jane.
“I’ve never been inside a magistrate’s office,” Jane said, peering about as we entered the building.
“Don’t get your hopes up.” I told a clerk we wanted to see Sir Kelsey and watched as he scuttled away. “It is no more interesting than a tax collector’s.”
The magistrate must have been free as we were bid to follow the clerk back into his office. Sir Kelsey rose when he saw us. “Lady Mary. Miss Smith. I have that statement for you to sign right here.”
We sat as he placed a sheet of paper, pen, and inkwell before us. Jane pulled the paper toward her and squinted at the writing.
“Although I am glad to have this task done, Sir Kelsey, it was not my primary purpose in coming here,” I said.
“No?”
I dug into my reticule and pulled out the metal file. The point had torn a small hole in the bottom of the satchel, a hole I couldn’t blame on Southey for once. I put the file on the desk. “I think I’ve discovered the weapon used on Trent.”
The magistrate arched a dark eyebrow. “That file?”
“Well, not this one in particular.”
Jane elbowed me and jerked her head at my face. Sighing, I pulled off my spectacles and handed them over to her so she could better read her statement.
I turned back to Sir Kelsey, whose face was just a bit blurred now.
“Trent’s factory has loads of files lying about.
They’re smaller than this one, meant to file the edges on the tin cans, but have that same cross-hatch pattern on the sides.
Trent’s wounds were jagged, yes? I think it was from a file. ”
Sir Kelsey picked up the tool and eyed it more closely. “That’s an interesting idea,” he said, not sounding particularly interested. “How did you know the wounds were jagged?”
I blinked. “Well…I saw the body, didn’t I? We all saw the body.” I nudged Jane.
She looked up, her pen hovering over the document. “What? Oh, yes. Clear as day.”
Sir Kelsey leaned back. “That’s good. I would hate to hear that it had been one of your representatives who spoke to my coroner without authorization.”
“Coroner?” I shook my head, trying to look innocent. “No, I haven’t spoken with him. Though I must tell you it would be to your benefit if I did. I do have some experience at investigations. Unfortunately, this isn’t the first murder I’ve come across.”
Jane laid the pen down and returned my spectacles. “She seems to attract dead bodies.”
I glared at her.