As if on cue, a lady of middle years and greying fair hair came downstairs, holding a jewelry case. “Havers, the staff cannot be allowed to pack the jewelry without adequate supervision. I already caught that tart of a lady’s maid sniffing around, as if she hadn’t already received more than enough coin for her ‘services.’” Her attention turned to Alex, whom she looked up and down. “I was not aware we had visitors. Who are you, sir?”
“Alexander Lewis, barrister for the Crown.” He handed her his card.
The woman studied it and frowned. “Isn’t it a bit queer for you to be here?”
“Not any queerer than you going through Mrs. Pierce’s jewelry case.”
She bristled. “That witch killed my brother. She has no right to these things. She never did.”
“So you are Mrs. Emmeline Warren?”
“I am. My husband Horace is here, as well. And my brother Clive. He is in the wine cellar safeguarding the spirits. Though I daresay that is rather like sending the fox to guard the henhouse. Why are you here?”
“I wish to examine the crime scene.”
Mrs. Warren wrinkled her nose. “I cannot imagine why. It was quite horrid. And it’s taken the maids most of the day to even begin to get the blood stains out of the carpet.”
“You mean they’re scrubbing the floor?”
“Well, it is an Aubusson carpet.” It was clear she was almost as concerned about the carpet as she was about the recent death. Perhaps more.
Alex couldn’t believe it. Hadn’t the police secured the scene at all? “Where is the study?”
“I cannot see why that is any of your concern.”
“Where is it, madam?” He’d reached the end of his patience.
With great reluctance, she pointed in the general direction and Alex strode quickly to the room, with a startled Havers at his heels.
Alex entered the study to find half a dozen maids on their hands and knees scrubbing the carpet and floors. “Stop what you’re doing!” he commanded. Judging by how nauseated they were and how clean the carpet and floor were, they must have been at it for hours. “The lot of you need to leave this room immediately.”
While the maids looked relieved at the very notion, one of them spoke up. “Mrs. Warren told us we wasn’t to stop until it was clean enough to eat off. And knowing her we might have to prove it.”
“And I am telling you that Mrs. Warren’s wishes do not signify in this matter. I have the authority of the Crown.”
“You’re sure that’s higher than Mrs. Warren?” asked the same girl dubiously. “Because she could sack us.”
“I am quite certain. Now leave this room and close the door behind you.”
Once the maids had left and Alex had told Havers to join them, he looked around the room. It was as clean and orderly as if guests were expected for a ball. There were no signs of a struggle. And while the blood stains were still partially visible, the well-trained maids had worked hard at their task. It was almost impossible to tell how much blood there had been and where it had sprayed. There was no indication of where Pierce had lain. There was no weapon in sight.
He checked his notes to see that none had been found upon discovery of the body.
That, at least, was interesting. If Mrs. Pierce had been the one to kill her husband in a fit of rage, the weapon would likely still be there. If it had been pre-meditated and she’d had time to dispose of the weapon, why would she have returned to the scene and allowed herself to be discovered there? It wouldn’t be the first time a criminal had acted irrationally. But it was odd, given the supposed open-and-shut nature of the case.
“How dare you send my maids away!” Mrs. Warren entered the study in a huff, accompanied by a tall, thin man who all but cowered behind her.
“As I told you, Mrs. Warren, I am here to learn what I can about this case. Is this your husband?”
Mrs. Warren turned to the man behind her as if as an afterthought. “Yes, this is Mr. Warren. He is most displeased that you have interrupted our cleaning.”
Mr. Warren said nothing. He simply continued to cower.
“Why are you in such a rush to put things to rights, madam?” asked Alex. “After all, this is not your residence.”
“It is, now.”
“Really? I would assume it is Mrs. Pierce’s.”
“A technicality for the time being. Once she is hanged, the property will revert to the family.”
“If she is hanged.”
“And it is your job to see that justice is done, is it not? Poor Clarence would want us to be here to see to his things.”
“Where is Mr. Pierce’s body? I assume this is where the viewing will be?”
Now Mrs. Warren looked uncomfortable. “There will be no viewing. We couldn’t very well have one after such a violent death. And I cannot imagine anyone would want to enter a murder house.”
From what Alex knew of the ton, he reckoned there would be a line of gawkers stretching around the block waiting for a chance to see the site where Clarence Pierce had been killed. “Yet you have no qualms about living here?”
“Of course not. It will bring me closer to the spirit of my dear brother. And now that Winifred has been charged, we have no fear of being murdered in our sleep.”
“And if she is not convicted and returns to this house? According to my files, it appears she would inherit this house and Pierce’s fortune. I cannot imagine it would be comfortable for all of you to share a residence.”
“Again, Lewis, it is your job to see her hanged.”
“It is my job to see that justice is done. And that is why I need to get back to it, though there is not as much to examine here as I had hoped. I ask again, where is Mr. Pierce’s body?”
Mr. Warren’s eyelid began twitching and even Mrs. Warren looked nervous. “I imagine it is, even now, being entombed at our family’s mausoleum on our country estate,” she said.
“Pardon me?” Alex hoped he’d misheard the woman.
“We decided that poor Clarence deserved to go home. A final journey for a man who loved to travel. We shall, of course, have a proper service when we return home. But we thought this was the best thing for him. Didn’t we, Mr. Warren?”
“Yes, Mrs. Warren,” said her dutiful husband.
Alex watched the two of them without speaking. It was one of his favorite tactics to learn if a person had something to hide. An innocent person would usually be uneasy with the silence. A guilty one would often be calm. In this case, Mrs. Warren stood there stone-faced, while her husband twitched.
Interesting, that.
“Your estate must be very close for this to happen so quickly,” said Alex. “Just when did Mr. Pierce begin his final journey?”
“Shortly after midnight,” said Mr. Warren.
“We thought it would be best for the body to avoid the heat of the day,” said his wife.
“The weather is quite cold,” said Alex. “Even at midday.”
“I do not see why the weather is any of your concern. Now, if you have concluded your business, you may leave.” It was a frank dismissal.
“But I have not concluded my business.”
“Well, I don’t feel comfortable having you roam around my house.”
“But it is not your house, is it, Mrs. Warren?” asked Alex, as he walked around the room. It was the typical study, with animal head trophies on the wall and decanters of spirits on the sideboard. However, given the exterior of the house, he would have expected more signs of wealth on the inside. But there was no art on the walls, no expensive vases or silver on display. “Mrs. Warren, I noticed the servants boxing up some items when I arrived. I have to wonder why you would do that if you are to move in here.”
“I would rather like to know, as well,” said a man at the door, who was drinking a glass of wine. He was of average height, with light brown hair. He was a bit soft about the middle, with a ruddy complexion. He nodded curtly at Alex. “Clive Pierce, Emmeline’s younger brother. I am quite cer
tain she has been spiriting away the expensive items to ensure I do not sell them to finance some lurid habit.”
“Clive,” said Emmeline. “There is no need to share our private affairs with a stranger.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t like that, would you? Have you found anything of interest…Lewis, is it?”
Alex had learned much of interest, though nothing in the way of evidence. “I have not had much of a chance to do so.”
“I cannot imagine there’s much to find in here,” said Clive, as he finished off his drink, then went to the sideboard to pour another. “Care for a drink, Horace? I know Emmeline doesn’t. What about you Lewis? Never met a barrister yet who didn’t appreciate a good brandy, especially if he wasn’t paying for it.”
“No, thank you. Is there a safe in here?”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Warren. “But there’s nothing much to see in there.”
Clive snorted his laughter. “Which means you’ve already gone through it and taken anything of value.”
“I am simply protecting the fruits of our dear brother’s labor.”
“Our ‘dear brother?’ Is there one I’m unaware of? You cared for Clarence as little as I did. I daresay the only one who hated him more was the widow. It’s too bad she was so obvious in killing him that she got herself arrested so quickly. I wouldn’t have minded having a go at her.”
“That’s disgusting,” said Mrs. Warren.
“And deliciously so, Emmeline. I could never understand why Clarence spent so much time with the tarty maid when he had such a luscious wife.”
“Your brother was having an affair with a maid?” asked Alex as he examined the desk. It looked to be an antique, perhaps French in origin. It was a large piece and likely had to be broken down then rebuilt when transported. He sat in the chair and studied the exterior.
“You should not be sitting at Clarence’s desk,” said Mrs. Warren.
“It’s not like Clarence is going to use it,” said Clive. “Carry on, Lewis.”
“Who is this maid you speak of?” asked Alex.
“I believe her name is Tawny. Not a very discreet one. She was known for bragging about her liaison with Clarence. Used to go on and on about it.”
“That’s probably why he used the secret passage so much,” said Emmeline. “I believe the entrance is somewhere in this room. That way he could tup the little whore and no one would see her enter the room.”
Alex was shocked by her language. Even the timid Mr. Warren stared at his wife in disbelief.
“Oh, grow up, Horace,” she said. “We all knew he wasn’t faithful to that cold fish of a wife. I just wish he’d been more judicious in his choice of mistress. Tupping a maid is so common.”
“Where is the hidden passage?” asked Alex.
Emmeline shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”
“Though I’m sure you tried to find it,” said her brother. “Maybe I’ll talk to the maid and see if I can shake something loose. So to speak.”
“Where is the key to the desk?” asked Alex.
Mrs. Warren bristled again. “That’s none of…”
“Before you say it’s none of his concern, Emmeline, simply give him the key,” said her brother. “If you truly want him gone, let him do his job.”
Mrs. Warren looked none too happy about it, but she did produce the key for Alex. He carefully opened every drawer and looked through them. All he found was paper, ink, sealing wax and a picture book of naked women.
“I’ll take that,” said Clive.
“Where did your brother do his work?” asked Alex.
“Our brother was not in trade,” said Mrs. Warren. “We have moved beyond that.”
“Oh, Emmeline,” said her brother. “No need to try and impress Lewis. From what I hear, he’s not to the manor born. Well, not officially, anyway. Clarence had an office down by the docks. I don’t think he ever did anything at this desk other than tup the occasional maid, when he wasn’t rutting in the secret tunnel. It’s all rather gothic, isn’t it?”
Alex studied the drawers in front of him, then looked at the size of the desk. He suspected there was a hidden compartment somewhere. And from the fresh scratches on the exterior of the drawers, he suspected someone else thought so, too.
For the next fifteen minutes, he conducted a methodical search of each drawer and panel. There’d been an antique desk such as this at his college. He’d spent more than a few hours exploring it because he’d always liked puzzles.
He continued to work as Pierce’s three relations studied him closely. They dispensed with their glib responses as he moved closer and closer to what he sought. Finally, there was a loud click and a whirring sound. The entire side panel slid open, revealing two large ledgers, some three dozen envelopes and various other documents. Lewis began placing them in his satchel.
“You can’t take those,” said Mrs. Warren.
“Actually, I can.”
“We should be able to see them first,” said Clive.
“I will return them when I am done. You can do what you like with them then.”
He spent another twenty minutes trying in vain to find any other compartments, then went to Pierce’s bedchamber. He was trailed throughout by Mr. and Mrs. Warren, as well as Clive.
“Did Mr. and Mrs. Pierce share a bedchamber?” asked Alex.
“Of course not,” said Mrs. Warren. “It is certainly not the thing.”
“Truth be told, I’m not sure when he last tupped his wife,” said Clive. “I think he enjoyed beating her more than bedding her. I wouldn’t mind trying both.”
And that was quite enough of that. “Mr. Pierce,” said Alex, “I cannot see how beating a woman is in any way a laughing matter. It is inhumane and intolerable. And if you were to do such a thing to Mrs. Pierce you would be breaking the law.”
“But there’s nothing illegal in talking about it, is there?”
“Yet, I begin to have doubts about your respect for the law. I wonder what I would find if I began an investigation of you.”
That sobered Clive up. “There’s no cause for that.”
This time Mrs. Warren came to her brother’s defense. “You quite exceed your authority, Lewis. You are here about our brother’s death. I suggest you stick to that. We have friends who could make life very difficult if you cross us.”
“Who are those friends?” asked Alex. Everything about this case was becoming more and more suspect. They had to know someone quite high in government to take the liberties they were making use of.
“That is none of your concern,” said Mrs. Warren. “Now, Lewis, it is time for you to conclude your search.”
“I would like to speak to the maid who was involved with Pierce.”
“She has gone out. And you may not wait for her.”
As much as he’d like to contradict her, Alex had too much work to do to waste time cooling his heels at the house. “I will be back. Leave things as they are. I have a very good memory, madam, and will know if you’ve disobeyed my directive. There are laws about obstructing an investigation. And as you mentioned – twice – it is my job to prosecute lawbreakers.”
Mrs. Warren was livid as Alex took his leave. That could be to his advantage. Mayhap he’d learn who their connections were if Mrs. Warren complained about him. But Alex didn’t have time to ponder the question. He had a long night of reading ahead of him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Win awoke the next morning feeling more like herself. It had been heaven spending time with James and getting to know Irene. She’d sympathized that he’d lost his land in America, but, selfishly, she was thrilled he would remain in England.
She just hoped she lived long enough to enjoy it.
Violet had given them a tour of Lynwood House, with special emphasis on her bedchamber. She had asked James if it might be possible for Anna and Letty to stay with her during their time in London. The duchess had already declared that all of the Emersons, including Nick, should stay at L
ynwood House, since Win was unable to leave. That arrangement pleased Win to no end.
At three of the clock, two carriages pulled into the Lynwood drive. From her sitting room window, Win recognized the Layton crest. She was both thrilled and nervous. She knew she could not put off telling her story for much longer, but she would soon see her family again. She just prayed that her distance of the past six years had not turned them away from her
James looked out the window. “They must have started out well before dawn. But I’m glad they’re here. May I escort you downstairs, love?”
She nodded, but then placed her hand at her bruised rib. “Did you prepare them for what I look like?”
“I said you’d been beaten,” said James, quietly.
“I do not wish to frighten Letty or Anna with my appearance.”
“I daresay they are both stronger than that. They are Emersons, after all. And I imagine Colin prepared them. Please, Win. They’ll want to see you.”
“I just need to catch my breath for a moment.”
He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”
*
Colin Emerson had been beaten regularly as a child. He knew very well what it was like. He knew the anticipation could be almost as bad as the beating itself. James was two years his junior. And if there was one thing worse than being beaten, it was watching it happen to his younger brother. It had created a strong bond between them, even as their hatred of their father had grown. The only thing that had prevented Colin from spending his life as a bitter, angry young man was the love he felt for his brothers and sisters.
His heart had broken when he’d received James’s letter. It had been sent first to Nick, since it was his servants and carriage who had brought the news, along with a carriage from the Kellington family.
They had arrived at Ridgeway later that night and Colin had never seen his brother so upset. Once Colin read the note, he could understand why. It had been short on details, revealing little more than Win had been arrested for the murder of her bastard husband, but had been released into Lynwood’s custody. That had been chilling enough. But then James had added that she’d been beaten, and Colin and Nick should prepare themselves accordingly.
Always Have Hope (Emerson Book 3) Page 5