by C. J. Archer
And then it struck me. It wasn't Dotty I'd seen checking this watch, it was Emmett.
"Matt," I said, brandishing the watch. "She did it! She killed Emmett! That's the only way she could have his watch in her possession. She stole it from him, along with his other belongings, after she killed him to make it look like a robbery."
"You're sure it's his?"
"It's distinctive." I turned the watch over. "And it has his initials engraved in the back."
"Well done, India. I think we're done here. Let's go."
The words were hardly out of his mouth when the click of the front door opening set my heart racing. I gasped and covered my mouth. We'd stayed too long.
If I were the landlady, the first thing I'd do after returning from a fool's errand would be to check Dotty's room. Matt must have thought the same thing. His gaze flew to the window then darted around.
"Hide under the bed," he whispered as he extinguished the lamp.
I looked out of the window and down. It was too far to jump. "There's a drainpipe. I might be able to manage it." My skirts would be a hindrance, and I'd never climbed down a drainpipe before, or out of a window for that matter, but there was no other option.
"My fiancée is not climbing down a drainpipe. Hide under the bed. I'll go out through the window and draw her attention away from the house."
"How?"
"I'll think of something. Slip outside once she leaves."
I remained by the window and closed it after him, as he needed both hands to hold onto the drainpipe. I was torn between watching him descend and not daring to, in case he fell.
My mind was made up for me when a floorboard creaked, perilously close. I shut the window as softly as possible and eyed the gap beneath the bed. It wasn't high and my skirts were full.
The door handle rattled as it turned.
Defying the stiff boning of my corset, I flattened myself to the floor and slid under the bed. Panic and my corset laces made my breathing shallow, ragged, and loud in my ears. Dust drifted up my nose, and a sneeze threatened.
The door swung open and a rectangle of light fell across the floor, reaching the bed. Footsteps approached and the hem of a skirt came into view.
"Is someone in here?" asked the landlady.
My nose tickled. I pinched it in an effort to hold back the brewing sneeze and held my breath to ensure silence. I couldn't last long without air. Matt had better hurry. Why hadn't he knocked on the front door yet?
He must have fallen.
Chapter 13
I closed my eyes, as if that could shut out the landlady and my perilous predicament. If she were observant, she'd notice the things on Dotty's dresser had been moved. If she looked under the bed, she'd see me. Perhaps she didn't suspect…
"Who's there?" she asked.
She suspected.
Where was Matt? He must have fallen and injured himself or he would have come, by now. It didn't bear thinking about, yet it was all I could think about. That and the landlady discovering me. All sorts of scenarios played out in my head, and all of them were awful. They tumbled around in my mind, making it difficult to concentrate. Being unable to breathe properly certainly didn't help. I felt foggy, and my vision blurred, but at least I no longer wanted to sneeze.
Any moment now and I would need to draw a breath or pass out. Either way, it would reveal me.
I heard footsteps again, but this time they receded. The landlady had departed. That's when my head began to pound.
No, not my head. Someone was knocking on the front door, very loudly.
Matt! Thank God.
I slid out from beneath the bed and sucked in several deep breaths. Then I tiptoed to the door and listened to Matt, below. I couldn't hear his words but his voice was a beautifully sonorous sound to my ears.
I crept closer to the stairs to listen. He was telling the landlady that I had gone missing and that he thought my disappearance was linked to that of Dotty. He sounded beside himself with worry. The landlady was doing her best to direct him to tell the police, but he was having none of it.
I tiptoed down the stairs, pausing on the first floor landing when they came into view. Matt kept his gaze on the landlady, but even so, I knew he knew I was there.
"You have to help me find her," he begged. "I need to know everything about Dotty."
"I sympathize," she said haughtily, "but it's nothing to do with me. You should go to the police."
"They're hopeless! Have they found Miss Campion? No. Are they even looking?" He threw his hands in the air. "I doubt it. They're fools." He squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Please, madam, help me find her. She's the most precious thing in the world to me. If I lose her…"
The landlady sighed. "Are you sure something terrible befell her?"
"It must have. Why would any woman leave me voluntarily? I'm rich and handsome and excellent company."
"Perhaps she left you because you're proud and conceited."
"No, that can't be it." He sounded thoughtful, but I didn't look at his face. I was too busy walking as swiftly and quietly as possible toward the back of the house. "Everyone says I'm charming," Matt went on.
"I'm sorry but I can't help you. Please leave, sir."
"You can't give me any clues about the whereabouts of Miss Campion? I'm convinced it will help me find India."
"No."
"I suspect they knew each other in the past." His voice had a desperate eagerness to it, as if he were trying to convince her before she slammed the door in his face.
I couldn't hear what she said, however, as I found the kitchen, scullery, and finally the door that led to a courtyard. I lifted the latch and slipped through the door before closing it softly behind me. I raced down the lane and met Matt at the corner. He grinned but all I felt was immense relief. The experience was over and neither of us had been caught or hurt.
"There you are," he said, drawing me into his arms. "Perhaps I should return and tell the landlady you showed up because you missed me too much."
"I missed your pride and conceit." I pressed my forehead against his shoulder and steadied my breathing. "The next time I break into a house, remind me not to wear a corset."
"Next time I break into a house, remind me not to bring you." His arms tightened.
"I would have come anyway." I took his hand and we headed in the direction of the carriage, which waited two streets away. "At least we were successful. We know Dotty killed Emmett. It's the only way the watch could be in her possession."
"We'll inform Brockwell in the morning. He can search her room, find the watch, and take the credit."
"I wonder what happened to her. I hope it's nothing awful. She may be a murderess but I can't help worrying about her. She is a woman all alone in a foreign country, after all."
"I don't think you need to worry," Matt said. "I suspect she's fine, wherever she is, safely away from London's police."
"Why do you think that?"
"We didn't find any money in her room. Not a single farthing. Did you find a reticule?"
"Only one," I said. "Most women have more."
"So we can assume she had a reticule and money on her when she went missing."
It did make me feel better, although now I thought of her as more of a cold-blooded killer than before. "She murdered Emmett, came back to her room briefly, left the watch behind, gathered all her money but took nothing else with her. She suspected the police would come for her and it was best to make it look like something terrible had befallen her by leaving her belongings. That way she could make her escape."
"And start afresh."
Matt helped me into the carriage and he gave the coachman the order to return home.
"I'm filthy," I said, looking down at the dust covering my dress. "The landlady isn't all that thorough in her housekeeping."
I brushed my gown but Matt stayed my hand. "Allow me." His fingers skimmed over my breasts in a poor attempt at flicking the dust off.
We spent the
remainder of the journey kissing and…dusting.
"I've had another thought about that watch," Matt said the following morning at breakfast.
I'd just finished telling the others about our escapades. Willie was impressed with my nerve, but Cyclops eyed Matt as if he'd lost his mind for taking me along. Duke was too busy tucking into a sausage to reveal his thoughts.
"What is it?" I asked Matt.
"What if May Draper put it in the drawer to implicate Dotty?"
I sat back, feeling somewhat breathless again. Why hadn't we thought about that possibility last night? Probably because we were both too energized at our success and somewhat distracted in the carriage.
"Whoa, slow down," Cyclops said. "You think May killed Emmett and is blaming it on Dotty?"
"She lied to us about where she was that night," Matt said, buttering his toast. "Both the Drapers lied. And she gave us Dotty's address too easily when she was cornered."
"So," Willie said, pointing her knife at Matt. "Did May kill Dotty too?"
"It's a possibility. Or she has taken the opportunity that Dotty's disappearance presents to blame her. Dotty's not here to defend herself."
"But what about the lack of money?" I asked. "We found nothing in Dotty's room," I told the others.
Matt bit into his toast as he considered that.
Duke finished his sausage and stole a piece of bacon off Cyclops's plate. "You don't need this if you want to look good for a certain pretty blonde."
Cyclops watched forlornly as the bacon disappeared into Duke's mouth.
"Perhaps Dotty didn't have much money to begin with," I said. When Eddie threw me out, I'd had only a few coins to my name, all of which fit into my reticule. "If she carried a reticule filled with all the money she possessed, and was then accosted, then it's no wonder we didn’t find any in her room. Her attacker kept it all."
"She should have sold the watch if she was poor," Willie said as she chewed. "I would have."
I pushed my plate away. This talk made me feel ill. Poor Dotty.
Matt took my empty teacup and filled it from the pot at the sideboard. "If Dotty hasn't run off voluntarily, because she committed the murder, then she has probably met with an unfortunate end at the hands of the killer—"
"May or Danny Draper," Willie cut in. "Or both."
"—because she knew too much," Matt finished.
That silenced us all. Even Duke pushed his plate of food away, although he pulled it closer again after a mere five seconds.
All talk of the investigation ceased upon Miss Glass’s arrival at the breakfast table. She'd eaten in her rooms, as she often did in the morning, but joined us for a cup of tea and gossip.
"I had a letter from Beatrice this morning," she announced, accepting a cup from Matt.
"Another one?" I said. "She has become quite the correspondent in her absence."
"She misses London keenly, as do Hope and Charity. Patience is happily settled at Lord Cox's estate, although I suspect that is a lie to rub my nose in it."
"Rub your nose in what?" Willie asked.
"The excellent match Patience made. Lord Cox's estate is grand, and I believe he's on fifty thousand a year."
"Fifty! Well fu—"
"Willie!" both Matt and Duke snapped.
"Sorry. Forgot myself on account of my shock. How much do you make, Matt?"
"None of your business."
"Fifty," she said to the slice of bacon on her fork. "I'd say she fell on her feet. Lucky he changed his mind and married her."
I swallowed half my tea with one gulp. It burned as it went down.
"Why would Aunt Beatrice need to lie about Patience's happiness?" Matt asked Miss Glass. "I'm sure she is happy. They're a good match."
"He has four children, Matthew. Four! That's twice as many as anyone needs. I believe three of them are boys, and all are under the age of twelve. Patience will be regretting her choice soon enough, if she doesn’t already. Imagine the noise. I have a headache just thinking about it."
"We can assume you won't visit her, then," Matt said, warring with a smile.
"I'm old. She can come here and visit me—leaving the children behind, of course."
"This is a terrible dilemma you've put us in, Aunt," Matt said, suddenly serious. "India and I wanted to outdo Patience and have five children."
"Don't be ridiculous. You can't fit five into this house."
"You could share a room with the girls, if we're blessed with any."
"Or with Willie," I said.
Miss Glass looked as though she believed us, but only until Willie barked a laugh. "You two are darned funny. Don't worry, Letty, they're just pulling your leg."
"Thank goodness for that!" Miss Glass said. "I felt faint for a moment."
Bristow entered and handed Matt a note. "It's from Hendry," Matt said, reading. "He's reminding us about the invitations and asked if we'd like to collect them in person or do we want him to deliver them."
"We'll be busy all day," I said.
"I'll go," Miss Glass said. "I could do with an excursion."
"Take Polly with you." I didn't want her to be alone if she had one of her episodes again.
"What about you three?" Matt asked his friends.
"I'm going to watch Dotty's lodgings," Duke said. "If she returns when we ain't looking, it could be a disaster."
"And I'm going to make sure Ronnie is studying," Cyclops said. At our silent stares, he added, "Not a word from any of you. I ain't going to see Catherine. It's nothing to do with her. I want Ronnie to succeed, that's all." He got up and stormed out of the dining room.
"And what about you, Willie?" Matt asked.
"Ain't none of your business," she said, rising. "But I'm going to have some fun."
"Why am I the only one working?" Duke asked.
"Standing on the street half asleep ain't working."
"I won't fall asleep."
Willie snorted.
As much as we wanted to question May again, Matt and I went directly to New Scotland Yard to report to Brockwell. Fortunately he was in and prepared to see us. I didn't consider the detective inspector to be a man of action, and certainly not someone who moved at a rapid pace, however once we told him what we'd discovered in Dotty's room, he took on a new persona. He strode into the common area and barked orders at his men to search the room, taking particular note of any watches.
"You coming, sir?" one of them asked as he headed out the door.
Brockwell shook his head. "I have to question a suspect. You're in charge of the search, Sergeant."
The sergeant puffed out his chest and saluted Brockwell before leaving.
Brockwell returned to his office with us in tow and retrieved his hat from the hat stand. "Thank you for the information, but I have to ask, how did you get into Miss Campion's room?"
"You don't want to know," Matt said.
The inspector pressed his lips together. "The landlady didn't let you in, did she?"
"I think you should assume whatever eases your conscience."
"Very little about this eases my conscience, Glass. If my superiors ask for details, I will be forced to tell them."
"And I'll give Munro the answers he wants."
That didn't smooth the frown on Brockwell's brow in the least. "If you don't mind, I have work to do now." He walked off along the corridor.
We followed him all the way outside. Matt dogged his steps, as did I. I wasn't yet sure what Matt had in mind, although I had an inkling. He wouldn't want to end our involvement now.
"That will be all, Glass," Brockwell said, stopping on the curb.
"You're going to question May Draper now, aren't you?"
"It's the wisest course of action at this juncture."
"Not really. May I suggest another?"
Brockwell sighed. "You will whether I want it or not."
Matt smiled. "You know me so well."
"Just get on with it, Glass." Poor Brockwell sounded like he had a t
housand burdens on his shoulders and Matt was the biggest.
"May Draper is a consummate liar. With her husband giving her an alibi, you won't get anywhere by questioning her. I suggest you speak to someone who knows them well to give you a more accurate picture first. Someone who can possibly give you ammunition to use in your interrogation."
"Annie Oakley?" I asked.
"William Cody."
"Buffalo Bill?" Brockwell scratched his sideburns. "He must be a busy man. It'll be hard to get hold of him."
"You're the best detective inspector in London. He'll respect that."
"Kind of you to say, Glass, but he won't know I'm the best."
Matt slapped Brockwell's shoulder. "That's why I'm coming along, to tell him."
"And me," I said.
"Of course. We're a team."
Brockwell merely sighed.
We finally located both Annie Oakley and Bill Cody at the exhibition grounds. Annie sat on a stool in the shade of the grandstand with a rifle across her lap, polishing the barrel to a sheen. Cody squatted in the middle of the arena, inspecting a horse's leg, while riders put other animals through their paces. The Drapers were nowhere to be seen.
I waved at Annie when she looked up.
"What're you doing here?" she asked.
"We want to speak to Mr. Cody."
I hurried after Matt and Brockwell, striding across the arena. Clouds of dust kicked up by the hooves hung in the breathless air and cloyed at my throat. I paused to cough and almost got in the way of one of the riders.
"You there!" Cody shouted. "Do you want to get trampled?"
My apology earned me a scowl from the star himself.
"I've answered all your questions, Inspector," Mr. Cody said, flicking a hand at the rider to lead the horse away.
"I have more," Brockwell said.
Mr. Cody stood with hands on hips, feet apart, looking like the impressive cowboy from the posters. He gave Matt and I a thorough inspection. "I've seen you two before."
"At The Prince of Wales," Matt said, holding out his hand. "I'm Matthew Glass, and this is my fiancée, India Steele. We're assisting Detective Inspector Brockwell with his investigation."