Kane looked into the Inspector’s eyes. They were world-weary but kind. ‘I suppose you see this sort of thing every day of the week?’
‘Not quite like this, no, sir.’ The Inspector didn’t go on to say that this case had shocked even the most seasoned policeman among them. ‘If you would prefer me to speak to Mrs Shawe . . .’
‘No, I’ll tell her. Does Sadie, the housekeeper, know?’
‘Not yet, sir.’
‘Then I’ll see her first and have her with me when I speak to Mrs Shawe.’
‘As you think best, sir.’
Think best? How could there be any best in this hornet’s nest? It seemed he was forever destined to bring the woman he loved the worst kind of news. When Sadie had sent the note explaining that Sophy had been attacked in her own home four days ago, he had been on the doorstep within the hour. He had still been there when the Inspector and a police constable had arrived bearing the news that the men in custody had confessed to the crime and implicated Toby in the matter of the key. Sophy had listened to what they had to say without uttering a word, and had spoken only in monosyllables after they had left. And that had set the pattern thereafter. As far as Sadie was aware, Sophy hadn’t wept or broken down since the incident, nor mentioned Toby’s name. In fact, she’d barely spoken at all and would see no one besides himself, and George, when the latter had called to see how she was, the day after the attack. It was worrying. In truth, he was worried to death and didn’t know what to do about it, nor how to reach her.
The Inspector cleared his throat and Kane came out of his thoughts, saying quickly, ‘I’ll go and see Sadie now before Mrs Shawe comes down. Thank you, Inspector. Are you going to stay around for a while?’
‘I don’t think so, sir. There’s nothing more we can do at the moment.’
Kane nodded, and once he had shown the policeman out he walked through to the kitchen where Sadie was preparing a breakfast-cum-lunch for Sophy. It was eleven o’clock in the morning. Sadie had confided in him the day before that Sophy stayed up until three or four in the morning since the attack, only going to bed when she was so exhausted she couldn’t keep her eyes open. ‘It’s awful, Mr Gregory,’ Sadie had whispered. ‘She paces.’
‘She does what?’ he’d asked.
‘Paces. You know – walks backwards and forwards, but not just once or twice. It goes on for hours. She sends me to bed, but how can I sleep when I know the state she’s in? I sit on the stairs until I see the drawing-room light go off and then I nip to my room. This can’t go on. Not without her losing her mind. You have to do something.’
He had stared at Sadie, utterly at a loss. He was still at a loss.
Sadie had stopped what she was doing as he walked into the kitchen and was now looking at him with fearful eyes. ‘What did the Inspector say?’
‘They’ve found Mr Shawe’s body.’
‘He’s dead?’ Hearing the relief in her own voice, Sadie quickly added, ‘How? When?’
‘It appears he was flashing a wad of notes around in a public house the night Forester-Smythe and his motley crew came here. That’s what the landlord of the public house told the police anyway. I would imagine a person or persons unknown took note and followed him when he left the Horseman’s Hounds.’ Kane shrugged. ‘What happened then is fairly clear. No money was found on the body so it’s a straightforward case of robbery.’
‘Where – where was he?’
‘In an alley.’ A muscle clenched in Kane’s jaw. ‘He had been beaten ferociously. They can’t say if he was still alive when the rats found him.’
Sadie stared at him in horror. ‘Rats? Oh my, oh my.’ She had a terror of any kind of rodent. ‘That’s terrible, just terrible. I mean, I know he was a wicked so-and-so, Mr Gregory, but to go like that . . . Well, it don’t bear thinking about.’
Kane stilled his tongue. He had had murder in his heart for the last four days, but someone had saved him the job.
After a moment, Sadie raised her eyes. ‘That’s what the Inspector has come to tell her?’
Kane nodded. ‘But he’s asked me to do the job and I want you present, Sadie. To tell you the truth, I have no idea how this latest news is going to affect her, but – but I’m worried.’
‘She’s not herself, that’s for sure,’ Sadie agreed, ‘but is it any wonder?’ They stared at each other helplessly for a moment. ‘The poor lamb, and her that wouldn’t hurt a fly. This has never been a happy house, Mr Gregory, but I don’t need to tell you that. You’ve got eyes in your head. But this, this is something beyond . . .’
When words failed her, Kane finished, ‘Beyond belief, Sadie. Most definitely beyond belief.’
‘I’ll be with you, sir, and you know I’ll look after her all right. She’ll get through this. She’s stronger than she looks – she’s had to be.’ Sadie was remembering the words Toby had shouted at Sophy the day he had punched her in the face – wicked words about Sophy’s mother. They might or might not be true, and she would never dream of mentioning it to the woman who had lifted her out of a life of drudgery and despair and brought her into an existence that was comfort itself; she didn’t even know if Sophy realised she had heard what Toby Shawe had said, but if it was true, it would explain a lot. Sophy never talked about her life before she came to London, never mentioned family or friends from that time. Yes, it would explain a lot.
Thinking that Sadie’s words related to the life Toby had led Sophy, Kane nodded again. ‘Yes, she’s strong, but this on top of Cat . . . well, it would be enough to turn the strongest person’s reason.’
‘She has her work, sir.’
Kane closed his mouth against the words in his mind. Her work. Always her work. Damn her work. He wanted her to lean on him, to look to him for comfort and sustenance, but of course it was not the time to say it. He drew in a deep breath which caused his waistcoat to expand then slowly sink back into place as he said quietly, ‘Quite so, and I know I can trust you to take care of her.’
Their eyes met for a moment in total understanding.
‘That you can, Mr Gregory. And all things pass. That’s what my old mother used to say and she was right. All things pass. There’ll come a day when all this will be behind her.’
He wanted, he needed to believe that. A grain of hope was better than no hope at all.
Sophy watched the Police Inspector leave the house from her vantage point at the bedroom window, one part of her mind noting how the sunshine lit up the bald spot on top of his head. He was a nice man, the Inspector. Stolid, fatherly.
Her gaze moved to the trees in the square opposite, their green leaves fluttering in the light breeze. All the May blossom had fallen now, the last of it blown away by the strong winds which had seen the month out. Today, though, the wind was simply a gentle caress as befitted a summer’s day in June. Her eyes followed a young nursemaid in her black and white uniform entering the square holding two small children by their hands. The little girls looked to be twins and were dressed in flouncy white dresses, straw bonnets sitting on their heads below which fair ringlets bounced as they walked.
She must write to Patience and congratulate her; she should have done it by return. Patience would expect that. And she should send her something for the baby; a bassinet perhaps? And some flowers for Patience.
She glanced at the tiny gold watch pinned to the front of her bodice and told herself she should go downstairs. Kane had arrived some time ago, a good half-hour before the Inspector. It was rude not to make the effort to see him. But still she continued to sit by the window as her tired mind took refuge in inconsequentials.
When Sadie knocked on the bedroom door and then popped her head round it, saying, ‘Mr Gregory’s here, ma’am, and I’ve done a light lunch for the pair of you,’ Sophy stood up resignedly. She didn’t allow herself to wonder why the Inspector had called, because to do so would pierce the protective bubble.
‘Thank you, Sadie. Would you tell him I’ll be down directly, please?’ she said,
before smoothing her hair in the mirror.
Kane stood up as she entered the drawing room, coming across to take her hands as he said quietly, ‘How are you this morning?’
‘I am well.’
She didn’t look well. Her amber eyes had lost their light and the pale creamy skin of her face seemed as if it had been drawn tight over the bones beneath it.
His voice even softer, Kane said, ‘Sit down a moment before we go through to the dining room. I want to talk to you.’
When Sadie didn’t leave the room but moved close to the sofa where Kane had drawn her, Sophy stiffened. She wanted to say, ‘Whatever you’re about to tell me, I don’t want to hear it,’ but instead she sat down and didn’t remove her cold hands from Kane’s warm ones when he seated himself beside her.
‘The Inspector called a short while ago.’ Kane waited for a response and when none was forthcoming, added, ‘He had some news about Toby.’ He felt her fingers jerk slightly as he said the name. Otherwise she could have been cast in stone.
‘I’m sorry, Sophy,’ he said gently. ‘They’ve found his body. It seems he must have been set upon the same night as the incident here.’ And then, in case she didn’t understand in her present state, he added, ‘He’s dead.’
Sophy’s gaze moved from his face to Sadie’s and then back again. She knew they were waiting for a reaction. Tears, perhaps – he had been her husband, after all. Or maybe anger. Through the numbness which blanketed her mind, she said, ‘I see. Where was he found?’
‘In an alley. The police are sure he’s been there all this time while they’ve been looking for him.’ He didn’t add that the Inspector had remarked that the body would be there still, but for the smell which had become overpowering.
Sophy tried to think what she should ask. ‘Do they know who was responsible?’
Kane shook his head. ‘The Inspector said they’ll do everything they can, but reading between the lines I don’t think he is particularly hopeful of tracing the perpetrators.’
Again she said, ‘I see.’
‘I’m meeting the Inspector later.’ The body had to be formally identified but the Inspector had told him it was a grisly sight for even the strongest stomach, and they had agreed Sophy shouldn’t be put through such an ordeal. The police had found an outstanding account from Toby’s club in one of the jacket pockets, along with a couple of other papers that confirmed who the victim was. There was also an initialled signet ring. ‘At the police morgue,’ he added when Sophy’s brows wrinkled.
‘Oh, yes, of course. But shouldn’t it be me?’
‘That’s not necessary. It’s merely a formality.’
For the first time there was a touch of animation in her voice when she said, ‘I can’t put upon you like that, it’s not fair.’ First Cat and now Toby; he shouldn’t have to do both identifications.
‘Nonsense, what are friends for?’ And when she opened her mouth to object again, he said, ‘It’s all arranged and you’ll have enough to do over the next little while.’
He meant the funeral. Another funeral, another coffin being lowered into the ground. And people would expect her to play the heartbroken widow. ‘I hate him, Kane.’ She hadn’t meant to say it, it had just popped out. But now she repeated it. ‘I hate him.’
‘Oh, ma’am, you don’t really—’
Kane cut off Sadie’s voice. ‘That is understandable and perfectly natural in the circumstances,’ he said quietly.
‘Perhaps, but it’s not right, is it?’ Sophy stood up, walking over to the window and standing looking out with her back to the room. ‘It frightens me how much I hate him, if I let myself think about it. I’ve wished him dead the last few days, not once but many times.’
‘Again, no one would blame you for that.’
She turned to look at him then. ‘Oh, but they would. When someone dies they acquire sainthood. Isn’t that how it works? But he was a weak, vicious and cruel man and I don’t intend to pretend a grief I don’t feel. It will offend people.’
‘Not me.’
A glimmer of a smile touched her pale lips. ‘No, not you.’
Sadie was finding this conversation difficult to deal with. Toby Shawe had been a devil, that much was for sure, and this last act of his in sending those men to the house had been wickedness itself, but to speak ill of the dead in this way was asking for trouble. She cleared her throat. ‘I’ll go and bring the things to the dining room, it’s all ready.’
‘Thank you, Sadie.’ Once Sadie had left the room, Sophy looked at Kane. ‘That’s the first person I’ve offended.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’
Worry about it? She didn’t think she would ever worry about anything again if this numbness held. Even the hate for Toby had become a thing of the intellect rather than the heart. She wanted to sleep, to lay her head on the pillow and never wake up, never have to deal with this evil, horrible world where good people like Cat could meet such a terrible end and someone whom you had loved and trusted with all your heart could betray you so completely. She would never put her faith in a man again.
Looking at her, Kane was pretty sure he knew what she was thinking. Walking across to the window, he stood in front of her but without touching her or taking her hands. ‘It’s a cliché, I know, and I hate clichés, but time really is a great healer, my dear. I’ve proved it in my own life. You’re tired and spent now, and no wonder, but you will recover from this and be the stronger for it.’
The words of understanding were almost too much. They were weakening and she couldn’t afford to be weak. There was a second’s pause before Sophy stepped away from him, and her voice was cool when she said, ‘Lunch is ready. And I shall return to the theatre today, Kane. I’ve been away long enough.’
‘No one will expect that, not in the circumstances.’
She turned with her hand on the door knob. ‘I know it isn’t seemly, Kane. Certainly not before the funeral. But from this moment on, I’m going to do what I see fit. My friends won’t understand, but those who are really my friends will take me as I am. The others . . .’ She shrugged her slim shoulders.
It was rare Kane didn’t know what to say but this was one of those times. He wanted to gather her up in his arms, to tell her all men weren’t the same and he would give his life for her without a moment’s hesitation, that he wanted to protect and cherish and love her.
Instead he nodded, and as she led the way to the dining room, he felt a weight descend on his heart. It was only now he admitted to himself that when the Inspector had told him of Toby’s death he had felt a surge of elation that she was free and the way was now open to him. In reality, asking her to look on him as anything more than a friend was now further away than ever.
Chapter 21
Patience sat at the breakfast-table in a state of shock, staring at the letter she had just opened and read. When William said, ‘What is it, my love? Are you unwell?’ she simply thrust Sophy’s letter into his hand.
She watched his eyes scan the words written on the single piece of paper before she said, ‘I have to go to her, William. Now, today.’
William looked at her in alarm. Although they were both thrilled about the baby, the pregnancy had been a far from easy one. The chronic sickness in the first four months had been so debilitating it had frightened him, even though Patience had remained cheerful throughout. That had eased in latter weeks and she was now able to eat normally again, but she was nothing but skin and bone, apart from the gently rounded swell of her belly. ‘I don’t think that’s wise. She’s said here the funeral is over and done with, so I really don’t see why you need to make such a journey in your condition. You can write, send flowers. She’ll understand.’
Patience smiled. He was a dear and she loved him with all her heart, but for a medical man he wasn’t handling the problems of her condition very well. Perhaps it was because he was a doctor and knew what could go wrong? But she felt well now, better than she had in a long time actually. ‘I must
go,’ she said again. ‘It’s not just that Sophy has lost her husband but the circumstances – well, it’s horrific, William. What must she be feeling? And it was only a little while ago she wrote about the murder of her friend.’
‘Darling, you need to build your strength up and do nothing more strenuous than sit in the garden each day at this time. Think of the baby.’
‘I think of the baby all the time.’ She took his hand across the table. ‘And I’m not ill, William. Just expecting a child. I understand your concern and I promise I’ll be sensible, but I have to go to her and perhaps stay for a while until she’s a little better.’
‘You don’t know she isn’t all right.’
‘Oh yes, I do. The way she’s written, it’s – well, it’s not Sophy. And people need family at such desperate times.’
‘But you hadn’t seen each other for years until we met by accident.’
Patience lowered her gaze to their joined hands. ‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘And I was deeply unhappy about that. I – I’ve always felt so guilty about how I behaved towards her until we went to school. I was hateful, William. A little beast. And perhaps if I’d been different, Mother wouldn’t have thought she could get away with so much.’
‘Now don’t get upset. And I have to say hand on heart that nothing you could have done or said would have influenced your mother’s actions.’ In truth, he thought his mother-in-law unbalanced and was thankful they had little to do with her.
‘Perhaps.’
William looked into her eyes and sighed. ‘Come on, no tears. Dry your eyes. If you are going to go I will come with you and fetch you when you want to come home, all right? And you must take Tilly with you.’ Tilly was their housekeeper, a widow who had never had children of her own, which was a pity because she was a warm, motherly soul.
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