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“Yes. Everyone in the club is so very friendly too.”
Silence.
Amy looked over at Aunt Margaret. “I believe we have other calls to make?”
“Yes.” Aunt Margaret gathered her gloves and reticule. The four women walked to the door, and Amy couldn’t help but think that the sisters were accompanying them to make sure they left.
It had been a strange visit. Short and awkward.
As they shrugged into their coats, air-kissing commenced, along with good-byes and See you on Thursday.
Once they were settled in the carriage, Aunt Margaret said, “Well, they certainly weren’t welcoming. I’m afraid this was a waste of your time.”
“Not at all.” Amy glanced out the window, then back over at Aunt Margaret. “I couldn’t help but wonder if the ‘chill’ they caught and the scratches on Miss Gertrude’s face had anything to do with William chasing down the person who attempted to escape with the ledger.”
She had obviously startled her aunt. “What? I thought you said—or at least I assumed—that it was a man who absconded with the ledger and who William chased through the woods.”
“That’s what we thought, but since we didn’t see the person’s face and whoever it was wore a cap of some sort, now that I think about it, it could have been a woman. William mentioned the person stumbled. If it was Miss Gertrude, she could have been scratched by branches.”
Amy considered how William had describe
d the thief. A bit taller than medium height, he’d said, and of medium build. Miss Gertrude was certainly tall enough to be a man, and although she was quite thin, a bulky coat could give her a studier appearance.
Aunt Margaret studied her for a minute. “I would suggest the next thing you work on is finding out if Miss Gertrude is capable of climbing out of windows and running through the woods in the dark.”
Amy nodded. “It doesn’t seem likely, though, does it?”
* * *
William had just spent the worst three hours of his life. Detectives Carson and Marsh had fired questions at him from every direction. If William hadn’t had Mr. Nelson-Graves, the barrister, there with him, he was almost sure he would be looking at the world from behind bars.
Mr. Alfred Lawrence, William’s solicitor, had joined in during the questioning also, requesting a copy of the file that contained the incriminating evidence. The detectives seemed reluctant to share a copy but bowed to the man’s request when Mr. Nelson-Graves mentioned getting the court involved.
At the end of it all, William’s head pounded, and he felt as though he’d been in the interview room for days instead of hours.
“I believe we are finished for now.” Detective Carson turned to William. “Do not leave Bath for any reason.”
As William breathed a sigh of relief, Mr. Nelson-Graves and Mr. Lawrence gathered notebooks, pencils, and files in preparation to leave.
“Detective, I wish to put you on notice that my client is not guilty of any crime. It appears from this interview and your evidence that crimes have been committed against him.” Mr. Nelson-Graves looked every bit the well-respected and powerful barrister he was.
“That’s your department, barrister. Our job is to find the person who most likely got Mr. James Harding drunk, then enticed him to walk along the river, and then shoved him in.” Carson pointed a finger at William. “Your client had every reason to commit the crime.”
“I suggest you turn your attention elsewhere, Detective. I would hate to see the department appear foolish to the public by falsely accusing a man of the nobility and member of the House of Lords of a horrendous crime.”
As they turned to leave, Detective Marsh spoke, one of the few times he had, since he’d spent most of his time scribbling in his notebook. “I wish to remind you, my lord, that we await the information you intend to provide showing that you were nowhere near the pub in question a day or two before Mr. Harding was found.”
William nodded, anxious to get home and check his appointment book to see what he’d been doing that week. Hopefully there was a notation that would jar his memory and provide an alibi. Right now, as frazzled as he was, he could not remember what he’d been doing the night before, let alone the week in question.
The three men reached the outside of the building. Fresh air had never smelled better. Mr. Nelson-Graves addressed William. “I will need you to meet me in my office either tomorrow or the day after.”
“Yes. I will send a note around as to the time and day I will be available for you.” William then turned to Mr. Lawrence. “I hope the police provide the copy of the file to you quickly. I need to begin my campaign to restore my good name with the individuals and businesses that Harding lured into false contracts.”
“You have a lot of work ahead of you, my lord. If there is anything I can do to assist in that matter, please let me know.” Mr. Lawrence gave a slight bow and walked away, heading for his carriage waiting at the end of the pavement.
“I will see you, then, in a couple of days.” Mr. Nelson-Graves also took his leave, heading across the street to where his office was located.
William waved his carriage forward and climbed in. He rested his head on the back of the squab and closed his eyes. He’d never been in such a mess in his life. The murder charge hanging over his head was bad enough, but the predicament Harding had created for him in the business community was almost as daunting.
