I moved to the other side of the room and sat at the table farthest from her, on a bench that ran the length of the back wall. A silent barmaid appeared, and I asked for a cup of tea. She gave me a sour look but nodded and turned to depart.
“ ’Ere,” the old woman said as she passed. “Can’t see your way to putting a drop of gin in this, can ye?”
“We don’t have no gin, ma’am,” the barmaid said impatiently. “I already told ya. It’s ale or nothing in this place.”
“I’ll have a pint, then.”
“I’ll see your coin first.”
The old woman snarled and waved the barmaid off with a stubby hand. The barmaid retreated so hastily that I hoped she’d remember to return with my tea.
“Ale’s like piss,” the woman informed me, hunching over her cup again. “Not worth it, mark my words.”
“I am having tea,” I assured her.
“Ain’t much better.”
She lifted her head, her gray hair scraggly about her face, and shot me a grin full of crooked teeth.
At this moment, the barmaid did return with a pot of tea and a cracked cup, which she more or less slammed onto my table. I slid a coin across the tabletop for her, which sheinstantly snatched up. She ran out, resolutely not looking at the old woman.
I carefully poured myself some tea. “Come over here, dear,” I told the other woman. “It’s warmer on this side.”
She heaved herself up, lifted her cup and saucer, and hobbled across the room to my table, where she plunked herself down opposite me and helped herself to hot tea from my pot.
“I will have to meet your wigmaker,” I said in a quiet voice. “She does wonderful work.”
“She does,” Hannah answered as softly. “But can’t have the proper maid from my fine house be seen talking to you, can we? Or even sitting in a pub like this one.”
“Are you well?” I asked anxiously. “I do not like the fact that someone in that house was murdered. It might have been a chance meeting with robbers on a street—”
“No.” Hannah interrupted me. “They killed him. Depend upon it. Viscount Peyton ordered that murder, and it was done for him.”
16
I had lifted my tea to sip, but I set it quickly back down. ““Why are you so certain?”
Hannah’s eyes glittered with adamance. “They’re villains in that house, mark my words—his lordship, his manservant, and his pals what come to see him. They shut themselves into his study for hours. They pore over maps and papers and go instantly quiet when the helpful maid comes in to refresh the brandy or bring tea for the lady. They don’t bother hiding the papers, because they think I can’t read,” she finished with some amusement.
“Are the maps and papers damning enough?” I asked in hope. “Can Daniel call in Scotland Yard to come in and seize them?”
Hannah’s smile deserted her. “I don’t know. When his lordship’s mates leave, the papers are all gone, every bit of them. I’ve looked. If I could smuggle out one scrap, I’m certain thewhole lot of them would be arrested, but they’re too careful, and I haven’t found nothing.”
“Pleasedon’tsnoop,” I said quickly. “I don’t wantyourbody ending up in the Thames.”
“Two people from the same house murdered would set the police’s sights on them though, wouldn’t it?” Hannah’s eyes narrowed in thought, increasing my alarm.
“And please don’t get yourself killed to bring the constables there,” I begged her. “Such a sacrifice is not worth it.”
Hannah went off in peals of merriment. The laugh became the cackles of an elderly woman just as the barmaid returned. Hannah began to cough, the reedy hack of someone in the first stages of consumption, and she rubbed her eyes with a rough-gloved hand.
The barmaid crossed the room to us, set a cloudy half-pint of ale in a glass next to Hannah’s elbow, and waited. Hannah glared up at her with damp, bloodshot eyes.
“That’s only a half.”
“Half is what we give ladies,” the barmaid said. “Landlord says drink it and clear off.”
Hannah growled something inaudible, then fumbled in a pocket and counted out a few grimy pennies.
