Page 34 of Corpse in the Canal

“Too handy with his fists, according to the old party propping up the bar, and subject to temper. But then, he has cause, though no one would elaborate.”

“And Sir Felix?”

“Too much of a gentleman to rise to the bait against a drunk.”

“But not too gentlemanly to fleece said drunk?”

“A fair point,” Solomon allowed, ridiculously relieved to have suspects other than Adelaide.

“So what will you do next?” David asked.

Solomon glanced at Constance. “Speak to the constable? Perhaps call on Everett and West. And there is the inquest this afternoon. Which I believe is here at the Duke’s Arms.”

“What of this shady Hope character in London?” David said.

“Unless he followed Percy all the way out here to murder him, I think we have to rule him out,” Solomon said with regret.

“Much simpler to hide murder victims in the stews of London,” Constance explained when David looked slightly baffled. “But thank you for coming all the way out here to tell us. Do you want to come with us now?”

David thought about it. So did Solomon. For a moment he wondered about having David as a partner in the firm, working alongside him as well as Constance…

“No, I’ll get settled into my room,” David said. “Buy another shirt, maybe! But I’ll keep my ears open.”

Solomon nodded and watched him amble back into the inn. “I’m not sure we are the attraction to Channing.”

“Do you mind?” Constance asked, an odd inflection in her voice that he hadn’t heard before.

He glanced at her, taking her hand and placing it in the crook of his arm. “I worry. Until we rule her out as a suspect.”

“She is not what I expected,” Constance remarked. “Apart from the beauty.”

“She is not whom I expected,” Solomon said wryly.

They turned out of the inn and began to walk through the market square toward the little police station, which, according to Harvey, was located on the north side.

“How well do you know her?” Constance asked.

“How well does one know anybody one hasn’t seen in seven years? Seven years ago, I would have married her.”

Chapter Eight

He felt the shock vibrate through her, though she kept walking without pause. “Why didn’t you?”

“She wouldn’t have me,” Solomon said. A faint echo of the old hurt came back to him, almost surprising him. And then came the relief. Involuntarily, he pressed her hand into his side. “Thank God.”

“Why not?” Constance demanded, and he smiled because her voice was almost indignant on his behalf.

“I don’t know. I suppose she didn’t like me enough. She was not short of suitors. Which was the problem I helped her with. One was a little too pressing after her parents died. He wanted her land; she wanted to sell it. He wanted to marry her and get it for nothing. I…persuaded him to buy it for a reasonable price and leave her alone.” He was aware of her turning her head to look at him. “It was a long time ago, Constance.”

A “Police” sign hung above the door just ahead.

“Could she have done this?” Constance asked.

Without consulting each other, they walked straight past the police station and on around the square. There was so much more to her question and he was sure they both knew it. Was Solomon too close to know? Could he be dispassionate about Adelaide? If she had done it, would he be prepared to give her up to the law? How much would this all hurt him? And Constance—his anchor, his strength, his weakness, and so much more.

He knew where his love and his loyalty lay. And yet his tongue was reluctant to say the words. Whatever the past meant, it counted for something.

He licked his lips. “If you mean is it in her character, then yes. She would have shot Crowther—her unwanted suitor—so if Percy was unwelcome and forceful…”