by Rebecca Kent
Aware that she had been staring at him for far too long, she lowered her gaze. “It’s about the murder of Lord Stalham.”
The silence that greeted her announcement brought up her head. She could see that she’d shocked him, and wished she’d phrased her revelation a little less bluntly.
“That case is closed.” Dawson frowned. “Lord Stalham’s son, James, was convicted and hanged for the crime.”
“Yes, I read the account of the trial in the newspaper.”
“And so?”
With his watchful gaze on her face, she began to feel a little uncomfortable. She hadn’t thought through exactly what she would say to him. After all, she could hardly explain about James’s ghost, and how she came to suspect he had been innocent of the crime. Now that the moment was here, she hardly knew how to begin.
Curiosity crept into Edward Dawson’s eyes as he continued to watch her. “Do you have something new in the case? Is that what you want to tell me?”
She let out her breath on a sigh. “I know this is going to sound odd to you, but I have reason to believe that James Stalham might not have been responsible for his father’s death. Which means the real killer is alive and well, and has escaped justice.”
Dawson’s eyebrows almost disappeared in his hairline. “You have evidence to that effect?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t.” She leaned forward. “I have, however, talked to the servants at the estate, and I know that Smithers omitted certain evidence when he gave his testimony on the stand.”
“And that is?”
“He failed to testify that someone else was in the house that night. Miss Pauline Suchier.”
To her surprise, the inspector nodded. “Yes, we are aware of that. Miss Suchier came to me and confessed that she had been present at the house that evening. She also had proof that she left there again, at least an hour before Lord Stalham was shot.
“Rather than reveal a notorious scandal, which would have served no purpose, seeing that Lord Stalham was deceased, we allowed the evidence to be left out of Smithers’s testimony.”
“Oh.” Deflated, Meredith sank back on her chair. It seemed her theory about Pauline being the killer was false. But she continued to wonder about Lady’s Clara’s possible role, though everyone seemed determined to protect Lady Clara. Who, she wondered, had cared enough about James to protect him? She thought about telling the inspector that Winnie had seen Lady Clara in the house that night.
But had she? Winnie could have lied about that, but then why would she? There would be no point, considering that the case was over and James had paid for the crime. Unless she, too, believed that James wasn’t guilty.
So, if James was innocent, and Winnie was telling the truth, that would mean his mother might well have killed his father. Yet Meredith still couldn’t bring herself to believe that Lady Clara could stand by and watch her son die for her. No, it simply didn’t make sense.
Winnie had to be mistaken. Perhaps it was Pauline Suchier she saw that night. There it was again . . . something else Winnie had said. If only she could remember.
Chapter 16
Aware that Inspector Dawson had spoken to her, Meredith shook off her thoughts. “I’m sorry, Inspector, I didn’t quite catch that.”
Again he smiled. “You seem preoccupied, Meredith. Is something worrying you? Why are you really here?”
“I don’t know.” She raised her hands and let them drop again. “I feel as though a grave miscarriage of justice has occurred, but unfortunately I have nothing to base my opinion on except instincts, and I have to admit, those are not very reliable.”
Dawson leaned forward, his eyes now grave. “Even if that were so, I would need concrete evidence to support the theory, without which it would be impossible to launch another investigation.”
“I understand.” She reached for her handbag and stood. “I’m so sorry to have wasted your time.”
Dawson rose swiftly to his feet and hurried around his desk.
“My dear Meredith, I can assure you, my time with you is never wasted. In fact, why don’t you stay a while longer and share a pot of tea with me.”
Still troubled, she smiled up at him. “There’s nothing I’d like better, Inspector—”
“Edward, please.”
“Edward, then. I’m sorry, but I promised my tutors I would meet them in Crickling Green at two o’clock and it must be close to that now.”
Dawson pulled a pocket watch from his vest pocket and peered at it. “You have fifteen minutes,” he said, tucking the watch back in his pocket. “Perhaps next time you will be able to stay longer.”
“I should like that.” She headed for the door and waited for him to open it.
Instead, he paused with his hand on the doorknob. “One question, if I may?”
“Of course.”
“What reason exactly do you have to question James Stalham’s conviction?”
She hesitated. “I am acquainted with a close member of the family, who has serious doubts about what actually happened that night. Speaking with the servants, I found there to be some severely conflicting statements, which leads me to wonder just who is telling the truth, and who is hiding it.”
He frowned, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. “If you should happen across something concrete that I could use to reopen the investigation, please don’t hesitate to get in touch with me.”
“Of course I shall.”
He reached for her hand, and raised it to his lips. “Until we meet again, then, Meredith.”
Even through the fabric of her gloves, his touch burned, long after she had left him and was on her way back to the village.
Back in her carriage, as the fields and hedges sped by, she chided herself for her immature response. She allowed herself to be far too affected by the casual attentions of a man. Both Edward and Stuart seemed able to throw her into confusion with just a few words, a penetrating glance, and the touch of their lips on her hand.
They were two very different men, both with the ability to disturb her peace of mind. She had been too long without such consideration from the male species, she decided. Being completely surrounded by females day in and day out obviously took its toll.
Yes, she missed male companionship, but if she were completely honest, she would not trade her life for any other.
Not for all the Stuarts and Edwards in the world. She enjoyed her independence, such as it was, and the freedom to think, act, and accept anything she chose. It was a good life, rewarding and enjoyable, doing what she loved. There were not too many women who could claim as much.
Arriving at the village green, Reggie brought the carriage to a stop behind the bandstand. The chairs in front of the circular structure were filled with mostly ladies. A sea of wide-brimmed hats trimmed with feathers, flowers, and baubles almost hid their owners from view.
The orchestra, resplendent in their dark blue uniforms with gold epaulettes and gold-trimmed caps, played with rather more enthusiasm than skill, but the result was quite stirring, nevertheless.
Standing at the edge of the grass, Meredith scanned the green for a glimpse of Felicity and Essie. The sun was warm enough to be felt through the cotton sleeves of her shirtwaist. Reggie had already taken the carriage to a more sheltered spot, where Spirit could enjoy a rest while his driver partook in the festivities.
Meredith made her way to the center of the green, where a crowd stood watching the dancers skip around the maypole skillfully weaving in and out with their colorful ribbons. Neither Felicity nor Essie seemed to be anywhere in sight, and Meredith began to wonder, since she had arrived a little late, if perhaps they had decided she wasn’t going to join them after all and had wandered off elsewhere.
She was about to seek out Reggie and ask him to take her back to the school when she heard someone calling her name. Turning, she saw Essie hurrying across the grass, one hand holding onto her hat, the other clutching her skirt.
Red-faced with exertion, she reached Meredith and
came to a stumbling halt. “The girls are in trouble,” she said, panting for breath.
Concerned now, Meredith took hold of her arm and drew her into the shade of an ancient, twisted oak. “Take your time, Essie, and tell me what’s happened.”
“The girls!” Essie gulped and grasped Meredith’s hand so tightly it hurt. “Oh, Meredith. The students. They’ve all been arrested!”
“I told you!” Grace sat shivering in the back room of the police station, her stomach knotted with anxiety. “I told you we’d get caught. What if we get the sack? What am I going to do without a job or somewhere to live? It’s all right for you, Olivia, you have relatives you can go to, but I have nobody. I’ll end up in the workhouse, I will.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “For pity’s sake, Grace, stop your whining and let me think.”
“Think? I think you’ve done enough thinking to last a lifetime. Why don’t you listen to me? Why do you always have to go off and—”
Olivia leaned closer to Grace’s ear. “Shut up! You’re driving me bonkers. Wilky will get us out of this. She always does.”
“Not this time. This time it isn’t just us what got into trouble. It’s a bunch of students as well. Mona won’t stand for that. I tell you, Olivia. This is the end of it. We’ll lose our jobs over this.”
Olivia didn’t even bother to answer her and Grace stared gloomily at the shiny black shoes poking out from under her skirt. She and Olivia had been separated from the students, and she could hear the girls arguing among themselves in the next room.
What if they all got expelled from the school? She and Olivia would be to blame. Everyone would hate them. Especially the teachers. That seemed even worse than being sacked, and tears began running down her cheeks at the thought.
She started as the door opened and a stern-faced P.C. Shipham looked in. “Come on, you two. I’m taking everyone back to Bellehaven.”
Grace’s stomach twisted even tighter. Now that it was time to face the music, she felt as if she would faint again. Oh, the disgrace. She’d never get another job. Unless she went to London. The thought of having to live in that big, bustling, dangerous city scared her to death. No, she couldn’t do it. She’d die there, she just knew it.
“Come on.” Olivia grabbed Grace’s arm and dragged her off her chair. “We might as well go back and get it over with.”
They passed through the main office of the police station, where an elderly man in shabby clothes leered at them as they walked close, his breath smelling worse than the public bar of the Dog and Duck.
Outside in the sunshine, as she breathed in fresh, clean-smelling air, Grace felt a little better. A black police wagon was lined up at the curb, pulled by a shiny black horse. P.C. Shipham had the back doors open and was pushing the students up and inside.
The girls didn’t seem to mind. In fact, they were laughing and joking, their voices loud and their words slurred. Two or three of them were actually singing hymns, though horribly out of tune. Grace couldn’t understand how they could be so happy when they were facing certain punishment.
Finally it was her turn to be helped into the wagon, though shoved was probably a better word. She landed on the floor, and Olivia tumbled in beside her. All the seats were occupied, so Grace made herself as comfortable as she could between the feet of the students seated on either side.
She had never been inside a police wagon before, though she’d once rescued Olivia from one in Witcheston. Staring at the bars on the window, Grace shivered. She felt like a criminal. What if they weren’t taking her and Olivia back to school at all? What if they were going to take them to prison? Wasn’t that what they did with the suffragettes when they caught them smashing things up?
It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t broken anything. It was Olivia what had broken the glasses, not her. Now she would have to pay for Olivia’s sins, and that wasn’t fair. Staring mournfully at her friend, she burst once more into tears.
Much to Meredith’s relief, she arrived back at Bellehaven ahead of the police wagon. It had taken all her powers of diplomacy and persuasion to get the students and maids released. Not only that, she’d had to promise that there would be no more trouble from the students in the future—a promise almost impossible to keep.
All was quiet in the building when she walked in, followed by Essie. “I think I’d better talk to the students in the library,” she said, as they stood in the quiet lobby. “Will you and Felicity wait here to make sure they are all present? I’ll go to the library and wait there.”
“Of course.” Essie seemed close to tears. “I just can’t believe they’d do such a thing,” she added, her voice breaking. “After all we’ve taught them about the importance of etiquette and making a good impression. How could they sully their reputations that way? They were drinking ale, in a public bar, of all places, with all those unruly men. They were all inebriated for heaven’s sake!”
Her voice had risen to a wail and Meredith shushed her. “Let’s do our best to keep this quiet. If Mr. Hamilton ever got wind of this—”
“Speaking of Hamilton,” Felicity said, from the open front door, “he’s coming up the driveway right now.”
Meredith gave her a stern glance. “That’s not amusing, Felicity. This is no time for jocularity. The students have committed an unforgivable transgression and have threatened the reputation of this establishment. I—”
“I’m not joking, Meredith.” Felicity pointed out the door. “Look for yourself.”
Unable to believe her, Meredith hurried to the door and peered outside. Sure enough, Stuart Hamilton’s carriage was bowling up the driveway and would arrive any second.
To make matters worse, turning in at the far end of the driveway was the black police wagon carrying two disobedient maids and thirteen drunken students.
“We have to shut him up somewhere,” Meredith said, ice clutching at her stomach. “If he finds out what happened heaven knows what he’ll do.”
“Well, since you seem to have a way with him, you should be the one to keep him occupied,” Felicity said, her smirk bringing heat to Meredith’s cheeks. “Try to get him out of the way as soon as he walks in here and we’ll get the students into the library.”
“He’s coming here to make sure we kept the students confined to their rooms,” Meredith muttered. “For heaven’s sake why can’t he trust us?”
“I’d say the reason he can’t is following him up the driveway this very minute,” Felicity said dryly. “His timing is impeccable, as usual.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Meredith stepped out onto the porch. “I’ll try to attract his attention so that he doesn’t turn around. Once I get him into my office, hustle the girls into the library and keep them there until I get rid of Stuart. I’ll come to the library as soon as he’s gone.”
“Stuart?” Felicity’s eyebrows shot up. “Since when have you been on a first name basis with Hamilton?”
Cursing herself for the slip, Meredith snapped, “Never mind that now. Just make sure you keep those students out of sight until after Mr. Hamilton has left.”
“Oh, dear, oh, dear,” Essie wailed. “What if he sees them? He’ll know they’ve been imbibing spirits.”
“Pray he doesn’t,” Meredith said grimly. Walking to the top of the steps, she started waving at the carriage as it pulled to a halt.
Holding her breath, she watched Hamilton climb out. The carriage obstructed his view of the driveway, and she prayed he wouldn’t hear the clip-clop of the constable’s horse, still quite a distance away.
“How nice to see you!” she cried out, as he mounted the steps, his astonished gaze on her face.
“My goodness, you certainly seem pleased to see me.” He took off his hat and swept a slight bow. “To what do I owe this unexpected honor?”
She backed into the hallway and he followed her. Glimpsing the wagon approaching, she frantically signaled to Felicity with her eyes.
Felicity hastily slammed the door shut, making Ham
ilton turn his head in surprise. “A welcoming committee. How very flattering.”
Essie uttered a small whimper, and Felicity took hold of her arm. “We were about to leave for the village,” she said shortly. “We’re just waiting for the carriage to arrive.”
“They are going to watch the maypole dancing,” Meredith said, wincing as the sound of a horse’s hooves could now plainly be heard. “That must be their carriage now. Won’t you please come to my office? I’ll ring for Mrs. Wilkins and have her send up a tea tray.”
Hamilton seemed a little bemused when he answered her. “Pardon? Oh, yes. I mean, no, thank you. Actually I came to ask you if you would . . .” His voice trailed off when he noticed both Essie and Felicity staring at him, one with fear and the other with ill- concealed impatience. “Ah . . . perhaps we should retire to your office after all. I can present my request there.”
“Good.” Hearing a door slam outside, Meredith turned and hurried across the lobby to the hallway. “I’ll ring for Mrs. Wilkins.”
“Oh, please don’t bother with the tea tray.” Hamilton was forced to call out after her since she was now practically running down the hallway.
The front door bell jangled as someone tugged on it. Meredith raised her voice and beckoned with her arm. “Come, Mr. Hamilton. I really can’t wait to hear what you want to ask of me.”
“Obviously.” Looking more perplexed than ever, Hamilton followed her into the office.
With a huge sigh of relief, Meredith hastily closed the door, then rushed over to her desk to sit down before her knees gave out on her.
Hamilton flipped his coattails and sat down opposite her.
“Something has happened to you, Meredith. You have never looked so eager to talk to me. May I ask what has brought about this rather intriguing transformation?”
Now she felt foolish. What on earth could she possibly say that would explain her outrageous behavior? She had practically lured the man into her office, and now here he was, sitting with an infuriating smug look on his face, just waiting for her to enlighten him.