Page 24 of Speculations in Sin

“Arrested him for embezzlement?” Joanna’s voice rose in rage. “This is nonsense.”

“No, my dearest.” I firmed my grip on her hands. “For murder. One of the senior clerks—”

“What?” Joanna’s face drained of color, and her chest rose with a shocked breath. “Murder? No, no. They have made it up. No one has been murdered.”

“I am afraid someone has been. One of Sam’s friends at the bank, a Mr. Kearny, told me what happened. Mr. Stockley, a clerk who works upstairs from him, had been arguing with Sam. Now he’s dead, and they are blaming Sam.”

“One of Sam’s friends at the bank?” Joanna gazed at me asthough I’d slapped her. “How did you speak to him? Were you there, at Daalman’s? Why were you?”

“Trying to find out why they were accusing Sam,” I said. “Don’t be angry with me, my love. Just listen.”

Joanna opened her mouth to blurt out more questions but closed it as I rapidly told her the tale of Sam’s arrest and what Mr. Kearny had told me. She stared at me dully as I began, then wilted as the tale went on. Finally, she was in my arms, the always-tranquil Joanna weeping heavily into my shoulder.

“My Sam. My poor, sweet Sam,” she sobbed. “What will I do without him?”

I held her, trying to soothe her. “I will not let Sam be convicted for this crime, I promise you.Wewill not. Daniel and I will make certain he comes home.”

Joanna lifted her head, her face wet, eyes red. “How can you know? The police do as they please. We can’t afford a good barrister to speak for him in court. He’ll be hanged.”

“No.” I put firm hands on Joanna’s shoulders and made her meet my gaze. “We will find proof. Daniel will speak to the police, and even if the case comes to court, I and my friends will make certain Sam has the best advocate we can find.”

“Will any barrister want to take the case?” Joanna asked bitterly. “Even solicitors are expensive, and they’ll have to persuade a barrister that he can win, or at the least, give Sam a gentler sentence.”

I had no answer for her. In the trial system in Britain, as I understood it, only the barristers who roamed the Inns of Court could stand up in the Old Bailey and other criminal courts of the land and make the case either for the prosecution or the defense.

The accused had to appeal to the barrister through a solicitor,and the fees for both could be quite high. The more sought-after barristers could pick and choose their cases. The ones Sam and Joanna could afford might be worse than having no advocate at all.

“What will become of my children?” Joanna’s hands fell to either side of her as though she no longer had strength to hold them up. “They’ll take them from me when they know I can’t cope without Sam. And what of Grace?” She looked at me, stricken, as though ashamed of just now having thought of her.

I caught Joanna’s hands again, trying to spill my warmth into them. “My dearest friend, do you think I’d let anything happen to your children, when you have taken such care of mine? No matter the outcome, they will always be cared for. I will see to it.”

As when I’d promised Sam’s acquittal, Joanna’s eyes filled with both hope and skepticism.

“We are only women, Kat, of the working classes, no less. Sam might have found a soft job, but he came from nothing, and everyone knows it. Less than nothing—when the judges find out what sort of company he kept before I met him, they’ll build the scaffold before the judge dons his black cap.”

“What sort of company?” I’d met Sam when Joanna had introduced him to me years ago. After weeks of hinting to me, her face rosy with blushes, that she was walking out with a fine young man, she arranged an outing so he could meet me. He’d been friendly, cheerful, and polite to me. He’d obviously doted on Joanna, which had gained him my approval.

Now that I thought it through, I realized I knew little of who Sam had been before he’d appeared in Joanna’s life. He’d grown up south of the river—which to some in my neighborhood might have been another country. However, he’d never done anythingthat indicated he’d been less than sober and honest. I’d assumed he’d come from a poor but respectable family in a poor but respectable neighborhood.

Joanna slid from my grasp and wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. I slid a handkerchief from my pocket and held it out to her.

“I met some of his old pals once,” Joanna said, taking the handkerchief with shaking fingers. “Sam did not mean for me to—they happened upon us several years ago, when we’d gone to a music hall. They were the same sort of brutes who used to roam Bow Lane, ones we learned to stay far away from. They told Sam not to be so proud of what he’d accomplished, and to remember where he came from. And I did not like the way they looked atme.”

I listened, startled. “What did Sam say to that?”

“He told them to keep a civil tongue around his wife, and the ruffians turned a bit more respectable. As though they knew better than to cross him.”

“Did they?” I asked in some surprise. “Sam is the gentlest of souls.”

“Of course he is, especially with me and the children. But he looked at them so sternly, and they backed down. Then they said if he ever had need of them, they’d be around. Sam told me we’d leave, and we walked home rather quickly.”

“Did he explain who they were?” I asked.

Joanna’s shoulders drooped. “He would not say anything at first, until I pointed out that if those men would be a danger to our children, I wanted to know. Then he told me all sorts of terrible things.” Her voice caught on a sob. “Sam had grown up with street toughs and became one of them. But he’d wanted a better life—he saw what happened to most of the boys, whoeither got themselves killed, or carted off to Dartmoor or worse places. A vicar of his parish helped him, found him books and tutored him, and Sam proved himself to be good at numbers. He worked very, very hard, and met and became friends with a young gentleman who eventually got Sam his position at the bank.”

“You mean Mr. Kearny?” I asked.

“I still do not know why you thought you needed to go to Daalman’s today, but I am bloody glad you were there.” Joanna, I recalled, had been able to swear quite vehemently when we’d been children, though she’d become most genteel since then. “Yes, Mr. Kearny. He and Sam got along splendidly—enjoyed many of the same books and things. They were from different walks of life, but this did not seem to matter to either of them.”

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