Page 64 of The Murder of Thomas Cardwell
Morgan nodded. “The barman said as the second man also brought the hired horse back before they shut for the night. I asked whether he—the barman—saw any resemblance to the three gents, and he said that night it was too dark to see much, but from what he did see, he didn’t think so.”
Stokes looked at Morgan—who had all the appearance of a puppy who had just delivered a bone to its master—then Stokes transferred his gaze to Walsh, who was merely looking hopeful, and nodded. “That is one excellent piece of detective work on both your parts.”
Both constables all but preened under the rare but well-deserved praise.
Barnaby leaned forward, drawing Stokes’s attention. “So therewasanother man who learned about the guns.” Barnaby looked at Penelope and Jordan, then back at Stokes. “Who was he?”
“And was he the man who killed Thomas Cardwell?” Penelope mused. “If so, why?”
Jordan was frowning. “What led this other man to follow Chesterton?” He met Penelope’s eyes. “Was it the same reason that prompted Thomas to follow Chesterton—meaning because of our gentlemen dupes and their unexplained additional income?”
“That,” Barnaby said, “would make the second man either Sir Ulysses or Keeble.”
“Or someone sent by one or the other to follow their son,” Morgan volunteered.
Penelope felt as if they were literally spinning, juggling facts and conjecture.
Stokes broke the momentary silence. “The essential question still before us is this: Who was the gentleman who met Thomas Cardwell on Tuesday morning at his office door—the man Thomas recognized enough to greet, then allow to follow him inside? The man who, a little while later, departed the office via the rear door and, in between, left Thomas Cardwell stabbed to death with his own letter knife.”
Stokes glanced around, clearly inviting comment.
After a moment, Penelope asked, “Have we been approaching the murder—the motive for it—from the wrong angle?” She glanced at Barnaby, then looked at Stokes. “What if it’s not about the gunsper sebut about the exposure of the gun-running scheme? We know Thomas intended to alert the authorities to the existence of the scheme.”
Barnaby frowned. “I think you’re right, but regardless, that’s a valid way forward motive-wise. So who does the exposure of the scheme threaten?”
They batted possibilities back and forth, but inevitably returned to the three gentlemen dupes and Sir Ulysses and Keeble.
“But,” Penelope said, “if we’re now on the right track as to motive, then the killer can only be someone who knew about the guns. By that reasoning, it can’t be the three dupes because, naive as they are, they never knew about the guns. We all agree on that.”
Barnaby nodded. “If they didn’t know about the guns, they couldn’t have known there was any threat hanging over them.” He looked at Stokes. “Based solely on motive, that leaves us with Chesterton, Winter, Haverstock, Huxtable, and this other man who followed Chesterton and learned about the guns.”
Stokes humphed. “And we know it can’t be Chesterton, and we’ve just proved his three backers were otherwise engaged at the time of Thomas’s murder.”
“We have an unknown gentleman who followed Thomas into his office and killed him,” Jordan said, “and another unknown man—according to the observant barmaid, likely a gentleman as well—who followed Chesterton from the Fox on Monday night and, we assume, learned about the guns.” Jordan looked at Barnaby and Penelope. “What are the chances we have two unknown gentlemen—one who learned about the guns and one who, for some other reason entirely, killed Thomas?” Jordanshook his head and answered his own question. “Those odds are too long. I think we need to accept that the man who followed Chesterton on Monday night is the same man who, on Tuesday morning, met Thomas at his office and killed him.”
“We mustn’t forget,” Penelope put in, “that our unknown man—and I agree there can be only one—didn’t go to see Thomas expecting to kill him. He went to see Thomas to…well, we don’t know what they discussed, but clearly, something Thomas said caused the man to seize the letter knife and stab Thomas to death.”
“But,” Stokes said, tapping his blotter with his pencil, “if we agree we have only one unknown man, then that argues that the motive for Thomas’s murder is, indeed, the threat posed by the exposure of the gun-running scheme.”
“More,” Barnaby said, his voice growing firmer, “that also means that the unknown gentleman came to see Thomas because he had reason to at least wonder if Thomas knew about the guns.”
“By that reasoning,” Penelope stated, “Sir Ulysses Moubray and Mr. Keeble are now at the top of our suspect list.”
Stokes nodded. “The easiest first question for us to tackle is whether each has a solid alibi for Tuesday morning between seven-thirty and eight-thirty.”
Barnaby was nodding. “Also, if we’re down to two prime suspects”—he glanced at Morgan and Walsh, who had been quietly standing by and avidly listening to the discussion—“regarding the man who followed Chesterton on Monday night, can we push further and see if the barman or barmaid of the Fox might be able to identify him?”
Stokes looked at Morgan and Walsh and nodded. “It’s worth a try.”
As it was too late for Morgan and Walsh to travel to Tilbury and return that day, Stokes told the pair to check with himfirst thing the next morning. “Depending on what we learn this afternoon, you’ll likely be heading down to the Fox to employ your persuasive talents.”
Morgan and Walsh grinned and chorused, “Yes, guv.”
Stokes waved them off, then turned to Barnaby, Penelope, and Jordan. “Should we beard our prime suspects this afternoon or leave it until tomorrow?”
“This afternoon,” Penelope stated. “It’s not even four o’clock, and between four and five is not a bad time to call if we want to be sure our suspects are at home.”
The men agreed, and they left the building and climbed into the waiting carriage, and Barnaby directed Phelps to the Moubrays’ house in Frederick Street.
