Page 30 of Corpse in the Canal

Solomon thanked him, and they walked back toward the road.

“He cares for his horses,” Solomon remarked.

“You think he feels sorry for that stray horse in his stable and is looking after it at Mrs. Jenkins’s expense?”

“It’s a possibility, isn’t it? It certainly doesn’t look like the mount of a wealthy man. But Percy could still have ridden into Channing on it.”

“And abandoned it in the field while he called on Mrs. Jenkins,” Constance said consideringly.

“Also a possibility. I look forward to speaking to her. Shall we walk into town?”

Chapter Seven

The town of Channing was quiet when Constance and Solomon arrived, no doubt because everyone was in the church on the other side of the main square from the Duke’s Arms.

The inn itself was busy, however, with many vehicles parked in the courtyard, and the buzz of conversation seeping from within. Constance and Solomon began at the stables, where they inquired about missing horses. The harassed ostler, feeding and watering many visiting animals, merely answered in the negative and went about his duties.

“Did Mr. Percival Harvey return a hired horse here on Thursday?” Solomon asked bluntly.

“Never saw him. Nor his horse.”

They repaired to the coffee room.

There, the first person Constance noticed was her brother-in-law, squeezing between the tables to reach them, casually handsome in a good brown coat and collarless shirt with a paisley kerchief knotted about his throat. When he reached them, he smelled of horse.

“David,” Solomon said in complete surprise.

“What’s wrong?” Constance demanded with sudden foreboding.

And now David was the one who looked surprised. “Nothing. I was just given a name by someone we spoke to the other night, and I didn’t know how urgently you might need it. I was just about to go up to Channing House when you walked in the door. Shall we sit down? There’s a table in the corner…”

Solomon was silent as they crossed the room and sat at the vacant table, barely taking his eyes off his brother, as though both flabbergasted and ridiculously pleased that David had made this effort. Constance ached for that uncertainty in him. Once, they had relied as each other utterly, but twenty years apart had taken its toll on fraternal closeness and expectation.

“Who gave you what name?” Constance asked briskly, and then had to wait for the answer while they gave their orders to the maid. Solomon and Constance ordered coffee, and David a meal of steak-and-kidney pie with vegetables.

Then David leaned forward confidingly. “Ellie May. She was waiting for me near the house, with the name of the man who’d been with”—he glanced quickly about him—“your friend when he picked her up in Orrie’s Den.”

“Who?” Solomon asked.

“A character called Henry Hope, of whom she seemed extremely fearful. It was he who was following us down that alley, which was presumably why she didn’t tell us at the time.”

Solomon frowned. “And she sought you out just to tell you this?”

“Well, she sought you out and found me. I didn’t correct her. And I suspect she only did it for the money. She’s desperate.” David transferred his gaze to Constance. “I gave her your name. Seemed to me she’d take any opportunity that earned her a few hours off the streets.”

Constance nodded. “I’ll find her.”

“You know young Harvey is dead?” Solomon said.

David nodded. “I heard people talking about murder. There’s something else—someone else in Channing, who mistook me for you.”

Solomon’s eyebrows flew up. “Here? Who?”

David lifted his gaze, and after a moment, Constance followed it. A beautiful woman stood just inside the doorway, holding the hand of a small boy who was perhaps four or five years old. She was gazing around the busy room, as though searching for a free table.

The child tugged at her hand, saying in a disappointed tone, “Is it too busy, Mama?”

David rose to his feet, catching the woman’s attention. “Perhaps you’d care to join us, ma’am? As you see, I’ve found my brother and his wife.”