Page 49 of One Last Whisper

“Don’t you be mopey,” Theresa warns as she enters the kitchen. “Can’t handle everyone being down right now.”

The door closes behind her, and Hargreaves sighs and looks at me. “Well, we caught our killer.”

I frown. “Do you believe so? I’m no longer sure.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

“He could have killed us,” I tell him. “But he didn’t. And he seemed genuinely surprised when we accused him.”

"He did it," Hargreaves says firmly. "The evidence all adds up. No one else could have accessed that room or even known about it. He's got a motive for the other women. He needed Lady Evelyn's and Lady Alivia's money. Franny and Matilda told me that he’d had his eye on Sarah ever since she arrived.”

That fits with my earlier speculation, but…

“Why didn’t he kill us, though?”

The door to the kitchen opens, and Theresa returns with the extra cup. She serves Hargreaves tea and takes her seat again. She frowns at me. “What’s wrong, Mary? You look upset. I mean…moreupset.”

“I just don’t know why Lord Edmund didn’t kill the two of us. He could have. You saw how easily he overpowered both of us. He could have thrown us both down into the ocean.”

“And how would he get away with that?” she challenges.

“The same way he got away with it before,” Hargreaves replies. “The evidence has been stacked against him for a while.”

“Exactly my point,” I insist. “It’s the one thing that doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, you said you had a friend. A private investigator, remember? He might have been afraid that he couldn’t get to your friend the way he could get to other people.”

Hargreaves frowns at me. “What’s this about a private investigator?”

Heat climbs my cheeks. “I… I’ve been doing my own investigation into Sarah’s death. I have a friend in Boston who’sa private investigator. I hired him to look into possible motives for her death. I sent him pictures of the chamber.”

That reminds me. I need to call Sean. He needs to know everything that’s happened.

Hargreaves sighs. “I really wish you had told me about that first, Mary. Scotland Yard takes a dim view of private investigators. It’s not my opinion, you understand, just Yard policy. We’ll have to be careful that it doesn’t come out that you were spying on Lord Edmund. Even if he’s convicted, you could still be charged.” He sips his tea. “That being said, if your friend uncovered any evidence, we would like to have it.”

“I’ll make sure you get it.”

“All the same,” Theresa interjects, “I think that’s why he didn’t kill us.”

“Yes,” Hargreaves agrees. “If your friend is based in Boston, then he’s out of Lord Edmund’s reach. He would discover that something happened to you and come forward with his evidence.”

I nod. “Right. I can see why Lord Edmund would want to avoid that. Still… if he leaves us alive, then we come forward with the evidence.”

“I’m sure he had a plan to silence both of you and make himself look innocent,” Hargreaves says, “but Lady Cordelia’s outburst caught his attention first.”

We fall silent a moment, thinking of poor Lady Cordelia. Hargreaves sighs, and I'm surprised to find tears in his eyes. He pulls out a cigarette, glances at Theresa and puts it back.

“Might as well smoke it,” Theresa says. “No lord or lady here to tell you otherwise, and I don’t care much either way right now.”

He nods thanks and pulls the cigarette out. After he lights it, he says, “This was supposed to be a celebration. Justice for my sister.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Your sister?”

“My sister,” he confirms. “Evelyn Hargreaves. The late Countess Blackwood.” He says that last with venom. “I told her not to marry him. I knew he was no good.”

“So Lady Evelyn was your sister,” Theresa says softly. “I didn’t know that.”

“She was. I never mentioned it because…” His lower lip trembles. “Well… I disowned her after she married Edmund. I hated the prick. I still hate him. I didn’t know that he was a murderer, but he always fancied himself better than everyone just because his ancestors had favor with old kings who did something of value hundreds of years ago.” He shook his head. “I never imagined he’d hurt her, though. God, I feel like such a fool. I could have helped her. I could have saved her life.”

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