Wilson shrugged. “No one asked him, especially since Lady Eugenie had blood on her hands. It seemed to be a rather open and shut case to me.” He paused. “Is it?”
“It is rather complicated, I’m afraid.”
Wilson let out a burp and brought a hand up to his mouth. “It sounds like it, but it is not my problem.”
Greydon removed a few gold coins from his pocket and slid them across the table to Wilson. “I will need the shopkeeper’s name.”
“I assumed as much,” Wilson said as he retrieved the coins. “It is a Mr. Jacob Rose and he has a flower shop next to the building that housed your brother’s apartment.”
“You did good, Wilson.”
Reaching for the pint, Wilson said, “I thought you would be pleased with what I uncovered.”
Greydon shoved back his chair and rose. “I will be in touch.”
“Will you?” Wilson asked. “I have heard rumors that you no longer work as a Bow Street Runner.”
“I have one more case I must solve before I hang up my uniform.”
Wilson held the drink up. “I wish you luck, then.”
Greydon departed from the tavern, and his mind was racing. Harriet had lied to him about never being at his brother’s apartment and she was there on the morning of the murder. Would this be enough evidence to halt the criminal proceedings against Lady Eugenie and have Sir David open up the investigation again?
There was only one way to find out. He needed to speak to Sir David about this right away. He hailed a hackney and ordered the driver to take him to Sir David’s home.
He didn’t have tangible proof that Lady Eugenie was innocent but he had reasonable doubt that she could be the killer. Now he just had to convince Sir David of that.
The hackney came to a stop in front of a brownstone building and he stepped onto the pavement. He approached the main door and knocked.
And waited.
He knocked again.
Finally, the door was opened, and a lanky butler stared back at him. “May I help you, sir?”
“I need to speak to Sir David at once,” Greydon informed him.
The butler looked displeased by his request. “I’m afraid that Sir David is unavailable to take callers at this time.”
Greydon removed a calling card from his jacket pocket and extended it towards the butler. “Will you see if he will make an exception?”
The butler glanced down at the card before saying, “Yes, my lord.” He opened the door wide. “Would you care to wait in the entry hall?”
“Thank you,” Greydon said as he stepped inside.
After closing the door, the butler crossed the entry hall and disappeared down a corridor. It was sometime later that the clipping of the butler’s shoes could be heard on the marble floor.
The butler met his gaze and said, “Sir David will see you.”
Greydon followed the butler down the corridor and walked into a room in the rear of the townhouse. Sir David was sitting behind his desk and he had an annoyed look on his face.
“What in the blazes are you about, Rushcliffe?” Sir David asked. “Do you know what hour it is?”
“I do, but I needed to speak to you. I assure you that the matter is most urgent.”
Sir David pressed his lips together as he leaned back in his seat. “Very well,” he replied. “What is it?”
“I have taken it upon myself to investigate my brother’s murder—”
