Page 35 of A Murder at Kew Gardens

A small silence settled between us. Beyond the window, Belgrave Square went on with its afternoon. A nursemaid herded two children along the pavement. A tradesman’s cart stopped some doors down.

She took a deep breath and gazed at me. “You didn’t come merely to inquire after my health.”

“No.”

She laid aside the embroidery, the knot of silk sliding from her lap into the basket, and gazed squarely at me. “Ask what you need from me.”

I loved her very much in that moment. She was being extraordinarily brave.

There was no gentle way into what I had come to ask, so I chose the direct one. Claire had never yet thanked anyone for wrapping a hard thing in tissue paper.

“How did Crane learn about the potion?”

No flinch came from my question. The shame of the thing had burned away. Only the fear for Cosmos remained. And fear could be put to work.

“I don’t know,” she said. “He wouldn’t say. I did ask.”

“Think about it.”

She was quiet for a long moment. I let her be quiet.

“He might have learned of it through the inquest, but I cannot see how. There was only a brief notice in the papers, and the verdict was death from natural causes. The potion was never mentioned. Besides, the inquest was held in Hampshire.”

“You never told anyone?”

“No.”

“Would Lord Edmunds have shared that information?”

She gave a little laugh. “Edmunds would sooner have announced his bank balance.”

I smiled despite myself. “He was that private?”

“Private and vain. An unfortunate combination.”

“Vain?”

“Oh, terribly.” A little more color came into her face. Talking of him did that. “Once, after a gentleman mistook him for his elder cousin, he spent an entire week examining himself in every looking glass in the house.”

I laughed.

“He was perfectly ridiculous.”

The room grew quiet again.

I did not hurry her out of it.

“So who did know?” I asked gently.

“The physician, of course. The chemist.”

She fell silent.

“And?”

She looked at me, a gleam of light in her eyes. “My husband’s valet. Benson. He not only fetched the potion from the chemist but prepared it for Edmunds.”

“So Benson knew,” I said, almost to myself.