Page 8 of Dead Beside the Thames
“It might, indeed.” Stokes glanced at Findlay. “I take it no whip has been found?”
Findlay shrugged. “No telling where it might be now. The killer might even have taken it with him.”
Stokes grimaced. “Time of death?”
Findlay regarded the corpse. “Judging from when he was found and the state of the body, I’d say between midnight Saturday to three o’clock on Sunday morning. I’ll testify that he hadn’t been in the water for more than twelve hours.”
Stokes nodded. He stepped back from the table and surveyed the corpse again, weighing the possibilities. While a whip as the likely murder weapon and Charlie also being a whip collector suggested Charlie as a suspect, given Sedbury’s size and weight versus Charlie’s, and that Sedbury had fought yet Charlie had no mark on his face or hands, Stokes still couldn’t see Charlie as Sedbury’s murderer. The scenario was simply too implausible—too much of a stretch of the imagination.
“Oh—one last thing.” Findlay flicked out the sheet, preparing to shroud the corpse once more. “Where he went into the river. It wasn’t off any of the bridges, if that’s what you were thinking.”
“It wasn’t?” Stokes perked up. “Where, then?”
“We can’t say exactly, but the body fetched up in the marshes on the south bank near Cuckold’s Point. I spoke to the rivermen, and in light of the conditions on the river and the tides on Saturday and Sunday, the consensus is that the body was put into the water from the north bank, somewhere between the Tower and the Duke Stairs. If I had to guess, then based on thetime I believe he was in the river, I’d put the entry point farther to the west along that stretch.”
This was why Stokes appreciated working with the more experienced examiners; they thought of asking the right questions of those around them. “Thank you. That will be a great help. We’d assumed a bridge because we were imagining an altercation between gentlemen.” Stokes paused, eyes narrowing. “But if he died near where he was put into the river…”
Findlay nodded sagely. “Indeed. Rather more likely he was involved in some nefarious doings, and something went wrong. He wouldn’t be the first lordling who bit off more than he could chew.” He drew the sheet over Sedbury’s body, then stepped back and looked at Stokes. “That’s about all I can tell you.” He clapped his hands together. “Right! You’ve got a murderer to chase, and I’ve got two floaters arriving any minute.”
Stokes held up a hand in thanks and turned toward the door. “I’ll leave you to it.” He was infinitely grateful that the other two corpses hadn’t been brought in while he was there.
As Stokes reached the door, Findlay called after him, “Don’t forget the formal identification!”
Stokes waved in acknowledgment, but didn’t stop.
He walked quickly up the stairs, down the corridor, and through the foyer, collecting O’Donnell with a glance. Once outside on the pavement, Stokes paused to finally fill his lungs. The aroma of the river wasn’t the sweetest, but it was a definite improvement over the scents of the dead.
O’Donnell halted beside Stokes, and he swiftly filled the sergeant in on the information regarding where the body had entered the river.
O’Donnell frowned. “That’s quite a stretch.”
“It is, and until we know more, we have to assume that the murder site lies somewhere close to the river in that area.” Stokes looked at O’Donnell. “You’re in charge of the search, withMorgan assisting. Pull in as many constables as you can and see what you can learn. Start with any informants in the area, but ultimately, we’re going to need witnesses.”
O’Donnell nodded. “In that area on a Saturday night, someone must have seen something.”
Stokes walked into the front hall just as Penelope was leading Barnaby and Charlie from the garden parlor to the dining room.
“Perfect timing!” She linked her arm in Stokes’s. “You can join us for luncheon and tell us what you discovered at the morgue.”
Stokes had to laugh. “Only you would look forward with such open expectation to news from that quarter delivered over the dining table.”
Penelope opened her mouth to refute that statement, then shut her lips on a “Hmm.”
They settled about the table, which Mostyn had already laid for four. The majordomo and the footman, Connor, brought in the platters, then retreated, leaving them to serve themselves.
Once they had, Barnaby said, “First, let me reiterate what we believe should be our next steps, then we can see how your latest information affects our thinking.”
With a mouthful of ham, Stokes nodded agreement, and Barnaby quickly listed their agreed next steps, namely to learn more about Sedbury and his family, the Hales, to search for witnesses to Sedbury’s movements after he left White’s, and lastly, to find witnesses to Charlie’s journey from White’s to Jermyn Street.
“We know who to ask for the first and the third,” Barnaby concluded, “but depending on where Sedbury went,his movements might prove more difficult to investigate. Not impossible, but it might take time.”
“However,” Penelope chimed in, “as there was little we could achieve during what remained of the morning, we delayed any decisions until after you returned and we heard what you’d discovered at the morgue.”
Taking that as his cue, Stokes revealed, “In truth, I learned more than I’d expected, largely thanks to Findlay, the medical examiner who did the postmortem. He’s an old hand with years of experience. Nothing much slips past him, and he’s quick to put two and two together.”
“That’s convenient for us.” Penelope folded her hands on the table. “So what had he deduced?”
“First, Sedbury was already dead when he entered the water, so it was, indeed, strangulation rather than death by drowning.”
