Page 40 of Corpse in the Canal

Adelaide shrugged. “Not really. He had only been home for a few days.”

“Might I ask,” Solomon said, “why you went to London?”

“For a change,” she replied. “To show Clarence the Tower of London and buy us both some new clothes. You would be surprised by the speed a small boy can grow.”

Constance almost touched her abdomen. How quickly was her small boy or girl growing? Hers. Dear God…

“Did you see Percy in London while you were there?” Solomon asked.

“No, I did not.”

“Would it surprise you to know,” Solomon said, “that his parents believe you and he had an assignation there? Or that they believe you were holding him in some kind of thrall?”

“By my bodily favors, no doubt? No, it does not surprise me. They imagine—imagined—that their son was irresistible to all females. They cut me before I even met him.”

“They also believe he was engaged to be married,” Constance added.

“There is a local rumor. To some earl’s daughter, apparently.” Adelaide laughed suddenly. “Had I gone up to London to put a spoke in that wheel?”

“Did you?” Constance asked steadily.

Adelaide threw her a contemptuous glance.

“We think he arrived back in Channing some time on Thursday afternoon,” Solomon said. “Did you glimpse him at all? Hear of anyone who did?”

Adelaide shook her head. Constance waited. So did Solomon, she was relieved to note. Often, people rushed to fill a silence, and in doing so let slip things of importance. Adelaide didn’t rush. But she did turn a somewhat stormy gaze on Solomon.

“You already know I’m glad he’s dead. He persecuted me, calling at the house, lurking around the grounds, engaging me in conversation if ever we ran into each other in town, monopolizing me at public events. I was already the stranger in the area, and by his behavior he was ruining what little reputation I had gained. I have a child—”

Abruptly, she broke off, and Constance’s hostility vanished into sympathy. For the first time, Adelaide was speaking from the heart.

“I suspect many women had a reason to shoot him,” Solomon said.

“I didn’t. What use would I be to my son at the end of a rope?”

*

“She’s hiding something,” Constance said as soon as she and Solomon were alone. They had parted ways with David at the end of the drive from Dare Hall and were walking in the direction of Channing House.

Rather to her surprise, he nodded. “When we asked about her seeing Percy from the window before the London journey. Do you think she spoke to him?”

“I don’t know. And I don’t know that it matters. He died a week later.”

“True. She has little cause to be defensive—and yet she is.”

“She has a child,” Constance said, as if that explained everything. Did it? When she was small, Juliet—and all the women who had been around them—had protected her fiercely. Like Adelaide with her son. “Reputation is a form of protection, too. And Percy…”

“Percy seems to have carried a positive maelstrom of ill will in his wake,” Solomon said. “How can his parents be unaware of that?”

“Perhaps they aren’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone pretends, shows a face they can live with to the world. We need to write all this down, discover where all our suspects were on Thursday afternoon.”

“If only we knew who our suspects were,” Solomon said wryly. “Do you kill a man over a game of cards, or an insulting proposition?”

“There is always more…”