So often in these composed mysteries, there was something purposefully highlighted to lead one astray—could the pendant be that?
The soup had been cleared and footmen brought round platters. Georgiana nodded absent-mindedly at a platter of duck and Lord Langley placed some on her plate. She picked up one of the graphite sticks and began to circle each fact that might be a clue.
John Herbert had money that could not be explained. The landlady had been paid ahead of time. The window and door were locked. He had been sitting at his table, window shut and back toward the door. He’d lost his key. The pendant left on the table was engraved with a J.
She paused. The pendant wascheapand there was also a watch that wasbroken. Despite their worthlessness, they had come from somewhere. Somewhere most likely stolen, because what poor apprentice would waste his money on such things?
Might there not have been other more valuable things that had been stolen and those two valueless items left behind? Might that not account for John Herbert’s mysterious funds? Had he been selling off goods he’d pilfered? He’d just been released for stealing, so he was likely not terribly opposed to the idea. Further, most apprenticeships began early in the morning, not the afternoon. Perhaps he was not an apprentice at all.
“I think the pendant and the broken watch were left behind because they were worthless,” Georgiana said. “There would have been other more valuable things taken from the room, and that’s where the money he could not have come by honestly originated from. He was robbing houses and somebody knew it.”
Lady Annabelle and Lord Bertridge did not pay any mind to her statement. Lord Bertridge had given up on the mystery, having convinced himself that it was Janet King, though he could not say how. Lady Annabelle was attempting all manner of gambits to attract Lord Langley’s attention and had just flung her napkin at his feet though he had not noticed.
Lord Langley considered the idea that there had been things more valuable in the room. He said, “Possibly. But even if that was the case, we are still in the dark about who did it and how.”
Georgiana went back to staring at the paper. And then, as if the clouds had parted to let in the sun, she saw the one thing her eyes had kept glossing over.
Chapter Six
Georgiana cursed herselffor not noticing it sooner. Tucked in among the other clues to Lord Ryland’s mystery was the one that really mattered. It was the one bit of information that pointed in one direction, and one only. The round red spots of dried blood on the floor. Not a footprint, a round red spot.
“I think I know what happened,” she said. “The missing key was never proved a fact, it was only what the landlady reported.Sheknew he had money and valuables asshehad been paid.”
“Do you suppose she told some younger accomplice to go get more, or hired somebody to do it? Then, the robbery somehow goes wrong and Herbert is killed,” Lord Langley said, leaning forward over his own copy of the mystery.
“No, I think she did it herself,” Georgiana said.
Lord Langley’s brow creased. “An older and infirm lady?”
“How infirm, though?” Georgiana asked. “She led the constable up to the garret so shewasable to get herself there. I do not believe she was as infirm as she made out.”
“Possibly,” Lord Langley said, though he looked dubious over the idea.
“He was followed in,” Georgiana said, her ideas forming themselves as she spoke. “He was not worried, he would have had his back to whoever was in the room. He sat defenseless, probably paying out her extra rent, as she’d already written the receipt and brought it with her. She stabs him in the back with a dagger or sword hidden in her cane, pushes it back in to its case, searches the room for the jewelry he’d stolen, leaves the receipt as well as the two pieces of no value, and locks the door behind her with the spare key she had all along. She makes sure to leave the receipt, as who suspects an infirm landlady who has been paid? The only thing she didn’t consider in her hurry was that the bottom of her cane had left three red circles of blood on the floor. You see? She did not clean the blade before she replaced it and it dripped out of the bottom.”
“Good God, that is at least plausible,” Lord Langley said. “Write it out and submit it, Miss Wilcox.”
Amidst heavy sighs from Lady Annabelle, Georgiana did as she was bid and wrote out the sequence of events she speculated on the blank back side of the paper. When she was done, Lord Langley added her name to it, folded it, and held it up for a footman to take to Lord Ryland.
Georgiana doubted she’d have been the first to unravel the mystery as once she’d thought about the round red circles it seemed the most obvious thing in the world. They had been mentioned for a reason and they could have come from nothing but a cane tip. Still, she was very satisfied with herself and found her appetite back.
Somehow, while she’d been pondering the mystery, Lord Langley had filled her plate with all manner of things—thin slices of lamb, duck and ham, pickled asparagus, a tartlet of some sort, and a rather large helping of broiled fish.
Before she could get very far with it, Lord Ryland once again dinged his glass. “For those of you who are fed up with my mysteries,” he said, “you will be relieved to know it has been solved. I will pin it up on the board just outside this door, but for your edification—the elderly landlady was the culprit. It was discovered that she had a dagger concealed in her cane that was found to be the murder weapon, she was in receipt of jewelry she could not account for, several of the pieces were engraved with aJ just as the pendant that had been left behind, and she had the spare key to the garret door hidden in her rooms. John Herbert had stolen a respectable cache of jewelry, the nosy old gal knew it and was not as infirm as she looked. She’ll hang in a month. Miss Wilcox is to be congratulated.”
There was a polite applause heard round the room, though no such accolade came from Lady Annabelle who looked rather put out.
Lord Bertridge only said, “I am surprised it was not Janet King, I was quite convinced of it.”
Lord Ryland approached the table and Georgiana was beginning to wish she’d not put so much effort into the matter. She rather felt like she was becoming a spectacle and doubted very much whether Lady Mendleton or the other ladies would like it.
“Miss Wilcox,” he said, bowing. “Our good Queen Charlotte has shown some little amount of appreciation for my efforts to subdue the criminal element in this Town and graciously offered herself as this year’s prize. You are to have tea with the great lady on Wednesday next. You may bring one guest with you.”
As Lord Ryland strode off, Georgiana said, “Tea? With Queen Charlotte?”
“Quite the honor,” Lord Bertridge said, looking a bit crestfallen that he’d not worked harder at it or bothered to submit his rather thin theory, though it was wrong.
Lady Annabelle only sniffed.
