Murder on Charles Street (Lady Katherine Regency Mysteries Book 5)

by Leighann Dobbs

  Tarnation! She bit her tongue to keep from cursing aloud as she walked briskly to Dr. Gammon’s house. Although the swarm of neighbors had dissipated, several professionals roamed the grounds, stamping down the crisp white snow. Lyle was among them, conversing with a much shorter man with a swarthier complexion. Katherine bit her tongue to keep from calling his name as she hastened toward him. For all that they were fast friends, he was here in an official capacity. Had he not been, he surely would have called on her.

  Pausing outside the ring the men of Bow Street had cleared, Katherine drummed her fingers on her thigh as she waited for Lyle to look up from his conversation. Emma strained at the end of her lead as she vigorously sniffed at a corner of the snow. Katherine’s breath fogged in front of her face as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. When Lyle at last noticed her, she raised her hand in greeting, a half smile turning up her lips.

  He met it with a quizzical tilt of his head. Wasn’t he happy to see her?

  She beckoned him closer. He exchanged a few short, whispered words with his companion before loping toward her. Emma bounced on her back legs, her tail wagging vigorously to greet him. He ignored the dog, planting himself squarely between them and the door to the house—a house to which Katherine desperately needed to gain access.

  “Katherine? Why are you here?” Lyle divided his attention between Katherine and her dog, who pawed ineffectually at his shin.

  “You didn’t stop in to say hello.”

  Having successfully won Lyle’s attention, Emma rubbed her nose on his leg. She didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the cold. Katherine, on the other hand, wished she had found a scarf or hat before leaving the house.

  “I’m working.”

  “So am I,” Katherine said. She stamped her feet to stave off the tingle in her toes. “Or I’d like to be. Dr. Gammon lives two doors down from me. You can’t expect me to ignore a neighbor’s sudden and suspicious death. He was a friend.” Her voice softened with the truth of her last sentence. She drew in a long breath to quell the wave of moroseness threatening to crash over her again.

  Lyle’s pale eyebrows knit together, and his frown deepened. “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. Have they found anything conclusive?”

  He hesitated. “You aren’t consulting with Bow Street. I know I’ve helped you in the past, but…”

  She grasped his arm, tugging him an inch closer, so their eyes were on the same level. “Lyle, there’s more. I’m certain Dr. Gammon was murdered. I was with him only last night, and he was in perfect health. This makes no sense.”

  Emma whined as if supporting Katherine’s claim.

  His face an impassive mask, Lyle looked at each of them in turn before he peered over his shoulder. With a sigh, he turned back. “I haven’t investigated the scene myself, you understand. But Hampson there has, and he didn’t find signs of foul play. The windows and doors are intact, and the physician seems to have died peacefully in his sleep. There is no indication of a theft or struggle. This time, your suspicions may be unfounded.”

  Katherine had thought that Lyle would take her suspicions more seriously. She and Lyle had known each other ever since her first meeting with the Royal Society for Investigative Techniques. He had been her faithful friend ever since, at times seeking her help and at times giving it.

  “Lyle…” She met his blue eyes again, holding them and willing him to remember their shared history.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I trust you, and I’ll take your suggestion under consideration due to our shared history. Your insights have been valuable in the past, but if the victim was your friend, you may be too close to this.”

  “All I ask is that you walk in there with an open mind. Or better yet, let me walk with you. When I was here last night, he told me that he had misgivings about an old patient. He was poring over his notes, but I didn’t see the contents. He left the papers in the parlor. Will you let me fetch them?”

  The grooves framing Lyle’s mouth deepened. “If they pertain to a murder—”

  “If he died peacefully, it won’t hurt the investigation.”

  Lyle gritted his teeth audibly. He glanced over his shoulder, looking at his compatriots before he turned back to her. “Quickly. And you’ll have to leave out the back.”

  She nodded “That won’t be a problem. I usually come and go by the garden door in any case.”

  He beckoned her forward with his hand, at the same time turning on his heel and striding toward the front door. With a yip, Emma hurried after him. Lyle approached the door—now shut—with a confidence Katherine tried to mirror. The tension in her shoulders eased once she was inside, with the door shut behind her.

  Lyle waved his long-fingered hand. “Lead on.”

  She didn’t waste time talking, but bustled into the parlor, where she had sat with Emma last night. Her gaze fell on the spotless table before she strode to the corner where Dr. Gammon had deposited the sheaf of papers. She stopped short when she’d walked far enough around his armchair to see that the corner was empty. The papers were gone. Mouth agape, Katherine turned to Lyle.

  He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

  “Maybe he moved them to the study.” Without waiting for an answer or for permission, she barged farther into the house, climbing the stairs toward the room where she had found Dr. Gammon’s body. Outside the gaping door, she hesitated. Her breath hitched as she braced herself for what she would find within. When she stepped inside, she searched the room. No one. In the hours spent with Pru and her fiancé, discussing wedding details, the constables must have removed the body.

  Thank heavens.

  Katherine gulped for breath and set about searching the room for the loose papers she had seen downstairs the night before. Not seeming worried that she would disrupt the scene, Lyle conducted his own investigation. She ignored his mutterings, growing more frustrated with every drawer and bookshelf that yielded her no results.

  “He was sitting here?”

  Lyle repeated his question before she looked up. Since arriving in the room, she had avoided looking at the leather chair, half afraid that her friend—or maybe his ghost—would appear in it. Perhaps it was irrational, but she felt far better when focused on learning what had happened to him than when facing the fact she would never speak with him again.

  She forced herself to look. It was only a chair, an empty one at that. The brandy glass, on the other hand, had been left. The liquid had dried along the bottom edge. “Yes. I found that tumbler next to him and crumbs on his shirt, no sign of a plate. Not anywhere in the house.”

  Lyle hummed tunelessly under his breath as he bent to examine the chair. When he didn’t continue his line of questioning, Katherine returned to her search, an uneasiness building in her stomach. One last drawer. If the papers weren’t in here…

  The drawer emitted a hideous screech as she opened it.

  “Who in the blazes are you?”

  Katherine jumped at the unfamiliar, harsh male voice. She stood from the desk chair to meet the eyes of a stranger. Or… is he? The shape of his face and set of his nose looked familiar. If she squinted and imagined him with a few more wrinkles… “James Gammon?”

  His eyebrows plummeted over his eyes in a hawkish expression. “I demand to know—”

  “I am an officer of Bow Street.” Lyle never managed that authoritative tone outside of his work. Katherine was always impressed at the results.

  This man, however, never lifted his gaze from her. His imperiousness matched that of the Prince Regent, whom Katherine had had the misfortune to meet once or twice. With a curl of his lip, two words dripped from Mr. Gammon’s lips. “And her?” His tone spoke volumes of his opinion regarding women in the workplace. Katherine had encountered his ilk before, far more times than she’d care to.

  “I’m a neighbor. I was a friend of your father’s.”

  His nostrils flared. “Leave at once. I don’t need my father’s neighbors intr
uding on his privacy or helping themselves to his things.”

  Katherine gasped. “I would never!”

  He pointed to the corner of the room. Frowning, Katherine followed his gaze. Her attention caught on a winding abandoned lead. Stomach sinking, she followed it to her golden-haired dog, who used the bulk of her body to shield the item she currently chewed on.

  Cursing under her breath, she dodged around the desk and cut off Emma’s escape. Her pet huddled around her prize, hunching her head low. Katherine used her fingers to pry loose the wooden handle—she dared not contemplate what of—from between Emma’s teeth. “Haven’t you learned your lesson about consuming things that don’t belong to you?”

  “Get out.” Mr. Gammon turned his frigid gaze to Lyle, who took the censure in stride.

  Matching the man for frostiness, Lyle informed, “I’ll escort her.”

  Katherine unfolded her frame, Emma cradled between her arms to keep her out of mischief. Despite not finding the papers she had come to retrieve, she retreated from the room. The back of her neck prickled until she reached the door, Lyle at her heels.

  He didn’t leave her there, but followed her all the way to her townhouse. Bitterly, she said, “I didn’t need your escort home. I wasn’t going to try to sneak in again.” At least, not while Mr. Gammon is still there.

  “He has a point, and one you should take heed of if indeed the victim was murdered.”

  Katherine rounded on her friend. Emma wriggled in her arms, but she held the dog tightly. “You called him a victim. You think I’m right.”

  Lyle hesitated. “After all our years together, I’ve learned to trust your sense. But I need further proof, and I won’t find it if you rile the victim’s son to the point that I can’t question him. Please, stay at home for the time being.”

  Her breath fogged the air between them as she struggled with the request. Katherine was a detective. She searched for evidence—she didn’t sit home and wait! “Will you visit later to tell me what you’ve learned?”

  Lyle nodded.

  Not ideal, but at least she wasn’t being cut out of the investigation altogether. “Then I’ll stay home. For now.”

  The door swung open to reveal Harriet, color flushing her cheeks. “There you are! When you disappeared with the others, I thought you’d accompanied them back to Lord Annandale’s residence. And in that dress, too!”

  Katherine stifled a sigh. “I took Emma for a walk to Number Four to learn more about the investigation. But it seems I’ve been ejected from the premises for now.”

  Harriet danced from foot to foot. “Is there something I can do? A cup of tea?”

  Katherine started to nod then paused. “Actually, I think there will be something you can do for me. I promise to stay indoors if you will ask along the street. Perhaps someone noticed something strange. And ask if Dr. Gammon had any other servants coming in. We should question them as well.”

  “Now?” Harriet cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you have an event to prepare for?” Her gaze dipped to Katherine’s clothes, which Harriet had chosen this morning.

  Katherine held her tongue. “I can ready myself.”

  Harriet snorted.

  Scowling, Katherine thrust the dog into her maid’s arms. “Very well, first help me dress. Then ask questions. Does that sound acceptable?”

  Lyle shoved his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat. “Waiting would be a splendid idea, if you don’t mind. I have a few matters to consider at the crime scene, but I’ll accompany you once I’m finished. It’s getting dark, and I need to ask some of those same questions for our records. What do you say we ask them together?”

  Harriet looked from Katherine to Lyle and back again as she shifted Emma’s weight onto one hip. “I suppose we might. Very well, Lady Katherine. Let’s ready you for the musicale.”

  Chapter Five

  Harriet tugged on Emma’s leash to keep the dog in line next to her and Lyle. With his shoulders hunched near to his ears, Lyle hadn’t said a word to her since she’d exited the townhouse despite the fact that they’d called on half the houses along Charles Street. This wasn’t out of character for the inventor, whose focus often wandered to problems no one else could see. However, he usually didn’t volunteer to keep her company.

  “You didn’t have to walk with me, if you’ve other matters to attend. I could have inquired on Lady Katherine’s behalf on my own,” Harriet said.

  Snow crunched beneath his boot as he sidestepped a slick of ice. Under the darkening sky, the light spilling from the lanterns hung in front of every house cast eerie shadows over his face. He frowned. “I’m not accompanying you for Katherine’s sake.” He turned his face away, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Like I said, I have questions of my own to ask.”

  “In that case, I can ask them for you.”

  Harriet didn’t know why she’d volunteered for yet more work. Ever since she and Lady Katherine had moved out of the Earl of Dorchester’s residence, she had run the household on her own. Although her employer was a good sort, the kind of woman Harriet even fancied a friend, she was not likely to sully her hands by running her own household. That left Harriet as cook, housekeeper, parlor maid, laundry maid, and lady’s maid. Thinking of her lengthy list of duties was enough to give her a headache. And now she was to be a detective as well?

  She gritted her teeth, trying to bar her thoughts from her face. She was feeling uncharitable due to the late hour and the frigid weather. A month ago, she would have jumped at the chance to vary her domestic chores with a more interesting pursuit. Now, however, it was all she could do to finish all her chores before collapsing into bed. And with Emma sick these past few days…

  “I wouldn’t impose on you in that way.”

  Through lowered lashes, Harriet glanced sideways at Lyle. He led her along the street, pausing at the end of the walkway leading up to the next door. Harriet offered him a wan smile and stepped past him. She knocked sharply. The sooner she asked her questions and retreated from the night air, the better.

  They stood and stamped on the doorstep for at least five minutes, but no one opened the door. With a disgusted sigh, Harriet turned away and continued on to the next house. Lyle lengthened his stride to catch up.

  “Are you in a hurry?” When he reached her side, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and curled his shoulders forward as if warding away the winter weather.

  “Only to get out of this blasted cold.”

  He cocked one eyebrow at her. “Then Katherine is not waiting for you…”

  If Lady Katherine had been at her leisure, she could have asked the questions herself. Heavens knew she had given Harriet a lengthy list to ask while donning her eveningwear.

  Harriet shook her head. “I settled Lady Katherine into the carriage with Miss Burwick and Lord Annandale half an hour ago. They are on their way to Lady Dalhousie’s musicale, and I couldn’t be happier for it.”

  Lyle’s frown deepened. He avoided her gaze as they approached the next house in the line, hopefully the last. Surely, no one farther from Number Four would have seen anything useful.

  “You don’t enjoy it when Katherine’s friends pay a visit? Or perhaps, are you less excited for the company they bring?”

  Harriet stopped in her tracks, her arm jerked by Emma as the pug trotted on. Harriet dug in her heels and held the little dog at bay. She scowled at Lyle. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. You’re right. Let’s hurry and get out of this cold.”

  When he loped onward, Harriet hastened her step to keep up. “Are you asking after McTavish?”

  Harriet could barely force the name through her lips. His very name conjured the flirtatious look in his eye and the casual manner with which he treated all women. He was a serial womanizer, even wont to twice turn his attentions on Katherine! Harriet most certainly did not enjoy when he turned his indiscriminate attentions on her.

  “He seems like an ungrateful guest.”

  “Wel
l, you needn’t worry. Lord Annandale rarely brings his valet to the new house. I only have to contend with him if Lady Katherine calls on Lord Annandale.”

  While paused in front of the next walkway, Lyle glanced at her almost shyly. “And is that the way you prefer him?”

  “I prefer never to see him at all,” Harriet assured him. She stepped around Lyle, marched up to the door, and rapped loudly. This time, Emma heard the patter of footsteps within. Her ears perked forward, and she yipped.

  The door opened to show the girl on the cusp of womanhood. She had a demure, forgettable face that her shrewd gaze belied. She narrowed her eyes as she beheld Harriet and Emma. “I recognize that dog… You work for the earl’s daughter, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I hope you’ll forgive me for bothering you so late, but…”

  The girl dismissed Harriet out of hand summarily. She turned that keen gaze on Lyle, staring at him for so long that the color in his cheeks deepened. “And who are you?”

  He gave her a little nod that ended resembling a half-bow. The color seeped farther into his complexion. “My name is Murphy. Lyle Murphy. I work for Bow Street, and I have a few questions, if you have a moment.” Throughout his mumbled explanation, he looked anywhere but at the pretty young woman. No one would accuse Lyle of being a womanizer. Unlike some Harriet knew.

  “Oh.” The young woman glanced over her shoulder, her hesitation clear. “Will it take long?”

  “Only as long as you have to give. I’m afraid the matter is paramount.”

  The girl accepted Lyle’s explanation and stepped back. “Then come in, but you mustn’t tarry. I’d offer you a cup of tea, but I’m afraid I haven’t got the time. My mistress is in the bath and will be calling for me at any moment.”

  Lyle glanced at Harriet and raised his eyebrow. She nodded subtly, reining Emma closer to prevent the pug’s penchant for stealing. Not that there were many items in the scullery, where the side door opened, to steal.