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“The carriage belongs to Caroline Smethwick. I have been to see it, and recognise that horse. I don’t think she sold it as she claimed she had. We know it hasn’t been kept at Brewster’s Yard, so I think she just relocated it and lied to everyone.”

“I have been to Caroline’s house, but there is nobody at home,” Isaac added quietly.

“The next meeting of the Circle is tonight.” Her eyes met and held Mark’s for a moment. “What do we do about her?”

“I think that it has to go ahead, Beatrice. I really don’t know if she will come or not. If she is completely innocent, then she will arrive as though nothing has happened and have absolutely no idea about what has been going on. Even guilty, she may try to brazen it out anyway and attempt to deny everything. We know that she is a great actress because she lived in disguise as her aunt for weeks in an attempt to try to gather information on the fraudsters who were targeting her relation. Unfortunately, we just didn’t consider her to be a danger to anyone. At the time, she said that she was gathering evidence to bring to the police so we could arrest Madame Humphries and Hepplethwaite. There was nothing to suggest she was anything but truthful. I am going to stay here and wait, if that is alright? If she turns up tonight, I will take her down to the station to answer some questions. There is nothing to lose even if she is innocent because if she has genuinely sold her carriage, we need to know who she sold it to, where and when.”

“Do you think that the incidents with the carriage might be related to the body in the garden?” He hated to suggest it and point the finger of suspicion for the murder on someone who could, quite conceivably, be innocent, but he just had to know just how dangerous Caroline Smethwick could be.

“It’s a possibility we cannot rule out right now. We know that Caroline doesn’t have a job, and is a relatively free person without commitments. She has the time, and is familiar with driving the carriage around the lanes by herself at night,” Mark sighed and looked at both Beatrice and Ben frankly. “She tried to run Harriett over not long after Miss Haversham’s death. She told us that she wanted to warn Harriett that danger surrounded her.” His eyes met and held Beatrice’s for a moment. “Now though, I cannot help but wonder if it is something she likes to do.”

“Do you think she is unhinged?” Her stomach began to churn at the possibility that she had made friends with a cold and ruthless killer. Not only that, but she had been alone with the said killer on a number of occasions. The thought of just how vulnerable she had left herself made her feel a little numb.

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to say too much in case she is innocent. However, until we get answers, don’t take any risks. Don’t go out again today. I am going to be here now, and hope that she does turn up tonight. She is arrogant, I know that much, and could quite conceivably attempt to bluff her way in. However, knitting needles are dangerous, so don’t underestimate her. I certainly won’t allow her to spend any part of the evening with you. As soon as she arrives, I am going to put her under arrest and get her out of here. At worst, she will be innocent and spitting mad at being dragged off to the station. However, given there has been another murder in the village; and her old carriage has been involved in several attempts to harm you; then I think she will be left with no choice but to understand.”

Beatrice nodded. Anyone who was aware of what had happened would understand why they had been taken in for questioning. Of course they would be angry but, if innocent, they would have no qualms about co-operating with a police investigation.

“I am going to be here,” Ben announced firmly. “I have no intention of letting that woman past the hallway.”

Mark nodded. “Together we can subdue her. I will put irons on her if I have to. We will get her out of this house quickly, Beatrice.”

Beatrice nodded and shivered at the thought of the evening that lay ahead.

However, Ben’s thoughts turned in a completely different direction.

“Is there any news on Hargraves?”

Mark shook his head and stared hard at Ben. He didn’t want to tell them right now because Beatrice looked as fragile as that flower she had received. However, he owed it to them both to make sure they didn’t consider Caroline Smethwick’s arrest to be the end of the dangers that surrounded them.

“He has vanished without a trace, I am afraid to say,” he announced reluctantly.

“God in heaven,” Beatrice whispered. “Everyone seems to be disappearing.”

“What were you doing at Jules Sanders’ house?” Mark suddenly demanded, and pierced Beatrice with a look that warned her that he would accept nothing less than the absolute truth.

She shared a look with Ben and sighed. “We went to the university to see if we could find out about this plant. Since it appeared on my doorstep, so many horrible things have happened that I just want the wretched thing away from me. I don’t even know if I am supposed to be the one to keep it because I have no idea why it was left with me. I just want it off my hands, preferably before anyone – namely me – gets hurt. If we could get to the bottom of who cultivated it and why, I can give it to its rightful owner and forget all about it. Hargraves and his employer can then go and pester them for it. If it is rightly mine, I am going to donate it to the university just to get the horrible, horrible thing out of the house.” She shivered and drew her arms around her middle in a protective gesture that told everyone just how vul

nerable she really felt. “We went to the university and got one of the scholars there, Archibald Harrington, to transcribe the notes for us. He told us that Jules Sanders had cultivated it, so we went to his house to ask him why the plant had been sent to me. I was going to ask him if he wanted it back. Unfortunately, when we got there, he -” She broke off and shook her head.

Ben briefly detailed the rest of their meeting with Archibald Harrington, and frowned when Mark and Isaac shared a steady look.

“What?”

He nudged Beatrice and felt her look up.

“Archibald Harrington died a month ago.”

Beatrice felt her stomach drop to her toes. At first, his words didn’t register with her. When they did, she turned to stare blankly at Ben for a moment before she leaned forward in her seat.

“Pardon?”

“Archibald Harrington died a month ago, Beatrice.”

“How?” This time it was Ben who leaned forward in his seat. “What from?”

“He was found dead in his garden. The doctor said it was a heart attack.”

“Are you sure?” Beatrice was still struggling with the knowledge that Archibald Harrington was dead.

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