Page 85 of The Time for Love
No one had any answer to offer.
Sophy turned to Martin. “What about Murchison? Did you learn anything from him?”
Martin grimaced. “Not what we wanted to learn. Despite considerable pressure being brought to bear, Vince was too afraid of the man, of his ability to retaliate, to give us the man’s name.”
Julia looked increasingly concerned. “That doesn’t sound at all heartening.”
“No, indeed,” Martin grimly agreed. “And there was worse to come. Vince’s older brother, Walter, had been the mystery man’s first choice as his hireling, but Walter declined. Vince admitted that, and in desperation, Curtin brought Walter in. Compared to Vince, Walter is considerably older and infinitely wiser, and despite being a seasoned villain himself, he had no wish whatsoever to be drawn into our mystery man’s scheme. Unbeknown to Walter, Vince had gone after the man and offered his services and was hired to do the job.” Martin glanced around the faces. “Unfortunately, like Vince, Walter was unwilling to risk the mystery man’s wrath by telling us his name.”
Oliver grunted. “Not even to save his brother.”
Sophy’s grandmother leaned back against the sofa cushions and stared at Martin, then at Oliver. “So you’re saying that seasoned villains are too frightened of this mystery man to even utter his name?”
Martin nodded. “That’s the situation in a nutshell. Curtin will alert his constables and we’ll see if, armed with the man’s description, they can learn where he’s staying, but other than that, we’re no closer to identifying him than we were yesterday.”
Sophy muttered, “Or the day before that.”
The door opened, and Higginbotham entered. “Luncheon, my lady?”
Sophy’s grandmother glanced at the clock, then nodded decisively. “An excellent notion, Higginbotham.” She pushed to her feet, bringing everyone else to theirs. “We need distraction, and partaking of luncheon will fit the bill nicely.”
They filed out in the old lady’s wake and were soon seated around the dining table, serving themselves from the platters Higginbotham and the footmen had set out.
While she ate, Sophy monitored the atmosphere around the table; all of them were now sufficiently relaxed with each other to allow their emotions to show. They were cast down, disappointed, even disheartened; all those feelings were there, on display as they commenced the meal, and weighing on them all was the implication of how dangerous their mysterious adversary was.
But gradually, they came about.
The conversation, what there was of it, remained desultory, and all remarks made had to do with their search for the unknown man’s name, yet bit by bit, determination rose and strengthened, and focus returned.
Eventually, Martin looked across the table at Oliver. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but at present, the only route open to us to learn the mystery man’s name is to ask Edward.”
Oliver met Martin’s eyes and nodded. “That’s the way I see it, too.”
As Martin and Oliver had intended, their comments sparked a discussion—a revisiting—of everyone else’s view of Edward and his likely involvement with the mystery man and his scheme to place Edward in charge of the steelworks.
Julia trenchantly declared, “Edward won’t be involved. He’ll know nothing about it, mark my words.”
Sophy caught Charlie’s eyes, then grimaced. “I’m still of that mind myself.” She arched her brows at Charlie. “You?”
Charlie shook his head. “I’m not in Edward’s pocket, and I admit I haven’t been around much in recent years, but I really can’t see him being a party to this.” Charlie looked at Martin. “An unwitting stalking horse, as you suggested, absolutely yes. I can easily imagine a clever manipulator—and the chances are our mystery man can wear just such a hat when it suits him—could easily lead Edward to…” Charlie paused, then tipped his head. “Well, I could imagine our mystery man beguiling Edward to the trough, but I still don’t think anyone could make him drink—not if drinking wasn’t the right thing to do.”
Sophy nodded decisively. “I concur. Edward won’t be knowingly involved in anything underhanded, much less criminal.”
Her grandmother slowly nodded. “The ‘knowingly’ is key.”
Martin and Oliver exchanged a look, then Martin said, “If we accept your reading of Edward’s character as correct, then the most straightforward way to learn the mystery man’s name is to approach Edward directly, explain the situation, and ask him who the man is.” Martin looked around the table. “Is that what you would recommend?”
After several minutes of further discussion, all agreed.
Sophy looked around the faces one last time, then nodded. “So we’ll go around to Sycamore Street and talk to Edward. At this hour, he’s likely to be at home.”
“Indeed.” Her grandmother set aside her napkin. “No time like the present, especially as we know so little of what this villainous man intends.”
“Not only that.” Looking rather grim, Charlie eased back his chair. “It’s just occurred to me that the police have hauled in the Murchisons, but given no one’s come knocking on the mystery man’s door, if he’s been keeping an eye on those people in whom he has an interest, he’s likely confident that neither Murchison has passed on his name. He’ll feel comfortable knowing that both Murchisons appreciate the depths of his villainy and won’t cross him.” Charlie looked across the table at Martin. “But Edward…”
His expression grim, Martin continued, “Most likely knows nothing of the man’s reputation and wouldn’t be swayed even if he did.”
Charlie went on, “Edward is a weak link in the man’s scheme. If the villain feels threatened…”
