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Helen.
I consider. Then, once she’s gone, I slip out and start after her, rolling my footfalls to move as quietly as I can.
I’ve made it to the end of the hall when footsteps come from the opposite direction, and I turn to see Sarah hurrying my way. On seeing me, she smiles. I head back to her, still moving slowly and quietly, which has her arching her brows.
“I was avoiding Helen,” I whisper.
“She’s prowling so late?” Sarah shakes her head. “Let me peek in the office, and make sure it looks as it did or she will surely notice.”
She stops at a closed door and puts her hand to the knob.
“That’s not where I was,” I say.
I point at the cracked-open door two down.
She frowns. “That isn’t Gordon’s office. It is Annis’s.”
“Yep, apparently, I misheard your directions.”
“No matter. I shall stand guard while you search—”
A commotion sounds, deep in the bowels of this monstrosity of a house. The butler’s voice booms that it’s nearly midnight, and they cannot simply barge in at such an hour.
I wince. “Dr. Gray has arrived, I presume. We left a note to tell him where we were going.”
“Let me handle this, and then we shall search Gordon’s office together.”
I follow Sarah, but with every step, it becomes clearer that the new arrival isn’t Gray. Another man is arguing with the butler, and I don’t recognize his voice. Then footsteps thump, at least three pairs of them, the butler still trying to stop the intruders.
I pick up my pace.
“Where is she?” a man says.
“If you mean Lady Leslie, she is abed, and you shall not—”
“It’s all right,” Annis’s voice replies. “I am right here. If you would be so kind as to introduce yourself, gentlemen?”
“Detective Crichton,” the man says. “Here to arrest you for the murder of your husband.”
By the time we reach the scene, it’s a clamor of voices—Annis seeming more aggrieved than concerned, the butler sputtering that the police have no right to intrude so late, and Isla arguing that this is preposterous as she demands to speak to Detective McCreadie.
“McCreadie isn’t in charge of this case,” Crichton says as Sarah and I round the last corner. “He is enjoying a much-deserved rest while I handle this unpleasantness.”
In other words, Crichton is swooping in for the glory of the sensational arrest.
“But—but—” Sarah says. “Has not someone else been arrested? A clerk for the deceased lawyer?”
“There is a suspect for the other murders,” Crichton says. “He is currently in hospital, having attempted to take his own life.”
“Did he name Lady Leslie as her husband’s killer?” Sarah says. “Is that not an obvious ploy?”
“He is as yet unresponsive. This arrest arises from new information.”
“What new information?” Isla cuts in.
His cheek twitches. He’s going to refuse to tell her. I see it in his eyes.
“Please, sir,” I say, dipping in a half curtsy. “I know you are only doing your job, and I do not envy you for it. My lady and Lady Leslie’s friend here are understandably confused and distraught. I believe you can settle their concerns by answering their question, if you are able.”
