Page 87 of In the Midnight Hour

North glowered at the butler, irritated by his rationalizations. “That isn’t an excuse. You must pardon us, Maberly.” He didn’t wait for the butler to open the door. North did it himself and escorted Hypatia out.

“I wonder if Maberly was speaking of Usher just then or himself,” North said with disgust.

“That he convinced himself it wasn’t true?” Hypatia asked. “I don’t know, but I can tell you that I’ll be asking him and Mrs. Babcock to find new employment as soon as possible, for I’ve no plan to keep them on after the house is officially mine. And I want Usher gone too.” She blew out a breath. “I am not heartless, however. We must find a situation for him because he will not be able to secure employment, especially since I won’t give him a reference.”

“Will you give references to Maberly and Mrs. Babcock?” North asked as they walked to her house.

“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I can’t think of that now. I must get to Brompton Crescent as quickly as possible.”

North met Hypatia’s gaze and held it. “Good luck.”

Chapter 21

The Marlborough Street Police Office was at numbers nineteen through twenty-one in three converted terrace houses. If Hypatia hadn’t been here just a few days ago to provide evidence against the Clavertons and seen the interior for herself, she might have thought they were making a call on a friend.

Her visit with Mrs. Jennings hadn’t gone well. Whilst Jemima had felt very badly for the housemaids in particular, she just didn’t think she could share what Sir Radnor had done to her in front of strangers.

Northwood held the door for Hypatia and Mrs. Nyburn, who had, thankfully, agreed most eagerly to accompany them and provide testimony. Mr. Sheffield greeted them in the entrance hall, where a variety of people stood and milled about.

After introducing the housekeeper to Mr. Sheffield, Northwood asked where Mr. Drummond was.

“In the magistrate’s office with the servants.” Mr. Sheffield regarded them with concern. “Did you bring any other witnesses?”

“Just me,” Hypatia replied.

“Who’s the magistrate today?” North asked.

“Caldecott.” Mr. Sheffield shrugged. “At least it isn’t Renton.”

Hypatia tried to brush away her disappointment and looked into the crowded magistrate’s office to the left of the entrance hall. The magistrate sat behind a desk on an elevated platform. To his right, on the floor, with the light from the window splashing across their table, sat two clerks, one of whom was writing furiously in a register. At least three dozen people were crammed into the room. Many stood whilst a lucky few sat on benches against the wall opposite the window that faced Marlborough Street. What had once likely been a lovely sitting room was now a shabby space overflowing with criminals.

That wasn’t fair. Some of them, like Gemma, Cora, and Samuel, weren’t truly criminals. They were victims of a system that valued privilege above justice.

The odor of too many bodies reminded Hypatia of bustling ballrooms without the scent of perfume working to mask the smell. She also caught a whiff of strong alcohol.

Mr. Drummond gestured for them to come into the office. Mr. Sheffield led the way, and they all made their way to the front of the room. It was their turn, apparently, as Mr. Drummond directed Cora, Gemma, and Samuel to move behind the railing that faced the magistrate.

Mr. Caldecott was in his early fifties with light brown hair mixed with gray. He possessed small, shrewd blue eyes and a hawk-like nose. He was rather imposing, and Hypatia hoped he would decide not to send Cora, Gemma, and Samuel to trial.

The magistrate settled his gaze on the footman and housemaids. “The three of you will stand together for the purposes of hearing evidence and testimony. However, your fates will be decided separately. Do you understand?”

The three nodded, and the magistrate prompted them to answer verbally so the clerk could note it in the record. Mr. Caldecott looked to Mr. Drummond. “Are you presenting the evidence?”

“I am.” Mr. Drummond proceeded to lay out the death of Sir Radnor by manner of defense and the subsequent deception to make it look as though he’d died of a fall. “I recommend that none of those accused are committed to trial. I believe they acted in defense of another and out of fear due to their positions as retainers.”

Mr. Caldecott frowned as he regarded the servants. “You should not have taken matters into your own hands, frightened though you may have been. We have laws to preserve an orderly society. Do you understand?”

They all nodded.

Directing his attention at Cora and Gemma, Caldecott’s expression smoothed. “I’m inclined to believe your account of what happened regarding Sir Radnor. Is there any other motive that could have provoked you to kill your employer if not violence against you?” He shot a look at Mr. Drummond as if he expected him to answer.

“I am not aware of another motive,” Mr. Drummond replied. “We do have a witness who can corroborate Sir Radnor’s behavior. She is his former housekeeper and helped other maids leave the household after they’d been assaulted by Sir Radnor.” He asked Mrs. Nyburn to come forward.

Caldecott listened intently to the housekeeper’s testimony, the furrows in his brow deepening as her tale continued. When she was finished, he lifted his hand. “I’ve heard enough. I see no reason to send these women or the footman to trial.”

Hypatia gasped with surprise and joy. She looked at Northwood and he was grinning. Hypatia hugged both housemaids, who tearfully expressed their gratitude. Samuel wiped his very damp forehead whilst smiling broadly.

They made their way through the throng back to the entrance hall and then outside into the late afternoon. The sun was low on the horizon, not that it was visible through the gray clouds.