Page 77 of Murder in Matrimony
“You’re late.” Mr. Baker loosened the grip on her arm. “You were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago to throw this chit in the Thames.”
“Ah, but there is one problem.” Isaac Jakeman stepped closer, taking Amelia’s arm as if it was part of a criminal transaction.
Mr. Baker’s brow furrowed. “What is it?”
In one swift motion, Jakeman pushed Amelia toward the office. “I like this chit more than I like you.” He grabbed Mr. Baker’s arm instead. “Lower your gun, Sir. I am for the lady.”
Seeing the truth of his words, Simon lowered the gun.
“What is this? Here now. Did she pay you? I will pay more.” Mr. Baker tried pulling away, but it was no use, and he knew it. Isaac Jakeman had no doubt killed his fair share of men. Resisting or retaliating would ensure his own demise. Jakeman had no qualms about hurting the older man. He held the belief of an eye for an eye.
“No, she did not pay. But you will pay whatever the lady wishes.” Jakeman looked at Amelia and smiled. “What do you wish for, Lady?”
In a moment, she knew. What could be done—must be done—for the Rothschilds and the East End. It was almost as strong as her wish to tell Simon she loved him, and she voiced it immediately. “I wish for Baker Biscuits to give the proceeds from the new biscuit to Mrs. Rothschild and her charity.”
“An admirable wish.” Jakeman dipped his chin. “You were not jesting when you said you wanted to help Wapping.”
“I meant every word, Mr. Jakeman. I promise.”
He held her eye for a moment, then shook the arm of Mr. Baker. “See? She calls me Mister. Why wouldn’t I like her better?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Now, I want you to promise the lady and her friends here that the proceeds willgo where she wishes. You will put them in writing for your partner, and in turn, I will not cut off your head. You will rot away in prison like the rest of the cheats on the East End.”
“How could you, Ike?” Mr. Baker’s voice was hoarse with emotion, and for a moment, he looked like an older version of the younger man. “You and I are the same.”
“You are not the same,” Amelia spat back. “You are nothing like Mr. Jakeman.”
“There, you see? We are quite different.” He nodded at Simon. “Now then, we have some business to commence. Would you like to join us?”
Kitty put her hand on a rung. “We would.”
Oliver put his hand over hers. “Let’s find a constable, shall we? I think they have matters under control, and Mr. Baker must be taken into custody.”
Kitty met Amelia’s eye, and Amelia nodded her agreement, giving her a weak smile. She should have told her friend the plan, but in her own defense, she had no idea Mr. Baker would be in the factory on a Sunday.
Kitty took Oliver’s hand then but not without a parting word. “If you ever try something like this again, Amelia, I won’t bring Mr. Hamsted and Lord Bainbridge. I’ll bring Lady Tabitha.”
The name echoed in the rafters, reminding one and all that there were things scarier than men and guns, and it was Aunt Tabitha.
THIRTY-TWO
Dear Lady Agony,
Tell it to me short and straight, like cupid’s arrow. Do you believe in love at first sight?
Devotedly,
Reader in Love
Dear Reader in Love,
In a word, dearest reader—absolutely.
Yours in Secret,
Lady Agony
While Mr. Baker signed his half of the proceeds over to the Rothschilds, Oliver and Kitty Hamsted found a constable who eagerly took down the accounts of the murder of Rose Rothschild and Mr. Cross. They had the evidence from Rose’s murder—the screws—but the evidence from Cross’s murder was yet to come. The officer thought it very probable that Mr. Baker kept the poor box from the church, and the Metropolitan Police would be able to substantiate the claims quite quickly. The time of death had been mistaken because of the clock but also the fire, which kept the body warmer than it would have been without it.
Before the officer’s arrival, Isaac Jakeman had quietly left the same way he came but not before receiving Simon’s eternal gratitude and a genuine handshake. Amelia owed him her very life, and she told him so. He shrugged off the kindness as commonplace, but she knew it was not. Anyone in his position would have done what benefited himself. Instead, he’d put her wellbeing before his own, and for that she would be forever grateful.
