Page 14 of Mistress of Darkness

Parks pointed at the step near the handrail. “Here, sir.”

Robert carefully knelt and Gwen peered over his shoulder. The marble step was broken, its front edge almost neatly cleaved off. Though she was no stonemason, it seemed an improbable crack.

“The stone has fractured,” he murmured. He ran his finger over the edge. “The break is crisp, and look here,” he said pinching a few specks of what appeared to be white powder, “this is fresh stone dust.”

As he stood, he motioned Parks back. “Back to the top,” he said, and when the valet had retreated, Robert gingerly used one foot to try his weight on the remainder of the step. The front fractured off.

Gwen’s hands went to her mouth. “Sabotage?” she gasped.

Robert nodded, his jaw tight and his eyes seeming to burn into the stone. “It would seem so.”

* * *

Dr. Thackery hadn’t arriveduntil well after midnight, but by that time Robert had managed to get Gwen to bed. To her credit she hadn’t been hysterical, although she’d clearly been shaken, as had many of the servants. But he and Thackery agreed that if Gwen had gotten to sleep, there was no need for medicines or tonics.

As Jonathan and Parks stood by, the doctor examined Frances’ body. Robert watched as the stout older man donned his spectacles and gently probed Frances’ limbs and back, and then he examined her head.

“Mmm hmm,” he muttered, and harrumphed through his mustache a few times, but, apparently satisfied, he stood and wiped his hands with a kerchief.

“Broken neck,” he said. “She would have died immediately. Good thing, really. It was quick and relatively painless and better than begging as an invalid.” He squinted and glanced up the stairs. “I presume she fell from up there?” Robert confirmed his guess and recounted all the details, including the broken marble. Thackery harrumphed again. “You think someone had reason to kill this girl? To kill the maid?”

“I sincerely doubt it,” Robert answered. “I think the malice might have been more…general in nature.”

“Well,” the doctor said, stowing his handkerchief in his leather bag and closing the top, “general or specific, I suggest you get that step fixed, and quickly.” He eyed the body. “Have her people been notified?”

“I believe she had no family to speak of,” Robert said quietly. “Isn’t that right, Parks?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered. “She was an orphan.”

“She’s for the potter’s field then.” As though the doctor had only just noticed the two men standing to the side, he waved a hand at them. “Put her in the back of my phaeton.” Although Jonathan jumped to do the man’s bidding, Parks looked at Robert.

“It’s all right, Parks. Do as the doctor says.”

“And the sooner, the better,” Thackery said, pulling out his pocket watch and checking it.

Robert picked up the linen and watched as the two solemn men carefully lifted Frances and took her to the front entry doors, which Robert opened for them.

Thackery followed them through, buttoning his overcoat and pulling the wide collar up high. “Damnable storm coming from the north,” he grumbled.

After Parks and Jonathan had lain her on the floor of the rig, Robert covered her again with the linen. The doctor climbed up to the driver’s seat and only glanced back to see that they were done, before snapping the reins and setting off.

Robert watched the phaeton disappear into the darkness before turning to his men. “Thank you both for your help. Please go get some sleep.”