Page 81 of From the Ashes
Lincoln nodded. I'd read the report and agreed with him that much had to be left out. Marchbank was a suspect and we couldn't let on how much we knew, even if he promised not to tell the others.
"What have you been doing all this time?" Marchbank asked.
"I've been pre-occupied with other matters."
Marchbank's gaze slid to me. "I see."
Seth peered around the door. "The last box is being loaded now, sir."
Marchbank rose and we walked him to the front door where Doyle stood waiting with the earl's coat over his arm.
So what will you do with yourself now?" Marchbank asked, a hint of mockery in his gruff voice. Clearly he still didn't believe Lincoln would step aside completely from the investigation.
"I may take a holiday at the seaside," Lincoln said.
"But it's December!"
"The country is beautiful at any time of the year."
"I didn't peg you as an aesthete," Marchbank said as Doyle helped him into his coat.
"I wasn't, until recently. I believe I became a lover of the countryside on my recent visit to Harcourt's estate in Oxfordshire."
Those few days out of London had been lovely and I held fond memories of them. Lincoln had once told me that he'd not truly noticed how beautiful the countryside was until then.
"Grand place," Marchbank agreed. "You ought to come and visit Lady Marchbank and me at March Hall. You too, Charlie. Not in winter, though. Bitterly cold place is Yorkshire at this time of year."
Didn't I know it.
"That's why Elsa and I prefer to stay here until Easter." He tipped his hat and Seth saw him to his carriage.
"Well?" Seth said when he re-entered. "What did you learn?"
"He killed the hypnotist who killed his father," I said.
He whistled. "And I thought him the sane one."
Lincoln walked off without a word, and took the stairs two at a time.
"Something got into his bonnet," Seth said, watching him go.
We headed to the kitchen and waited for Bella to leave before I repeated what we'd learned about Marchbank to the others. Lincoln still hadn't come downstairs and my curiosity eventually got the better of me.
I knocked on his door and he bade me to enter. He sat in an armchair in his sitting room, a paper in hand and others on his lap and on the table nearby. He looked up and seemed surprised to see me. He quickly stood and set down the paper.
After a moment, he said, "Is everything all right?"
"I was wondering what you were doing. You left in rather a hurry without explanation. Is everything all right withyou?"
He indicated I should sit then he too sat. He picked up the paper again. "These are the documents Mannering stole from Bell. I decided to take another look at them."
"Any reason in particular?"
"Frustration at getting nowhere. I don't think Marchbank is our killer."
"Eliminating him is progress."
"Not enough. Not nearly enough." He rested his elbow on the chair arm and skimmed his top lip with the side of his finger. "Tell me what you think of these. A fresh set of eyes might reveal something I missed."
