Page 45 of A Shop Girl’s Christmas (Pennington’s Department Store #3)
Inside the Manor, a quietness had fallen, and Stephen took the opportunity to escape into the drawing room. Despite it being Christmas Day, his thoughts about Cornelia and how he’d have to speak to Carter sooner or later continued to play havoc with his mind. He entered the room, relieved to find it empty, and walked to the tall sash window that gave an unobstructed view of the south-facing gardens.
Cornelia and her sister were playing with the children around the pond. Francis held his mother’s hand and Nathaniel held his aunt’s as they walked the boys around the low wall that surrounded the freezing water. Nerves rippled through him as he thought of one of the children slipping into the pond’s depths. He’d been pleased and grateful that the children had so quickly warmed to him, even inviting him to join in their play.
It had also pleased him immeasurably to see the delight in Cornelia’s eyes as she’d quietly watched them. How was he to deny the pleasure it had given him to be included in such normality even for a while?
Footsteps sounded behind him and Stephen inwardly sighed as Carter entered the room, his smile wide.
‘Ah, there you are, Stephen. I was hoping to catch a moment alone with you. Shall we take this opportunity to talk?’
There was little point in putting off the inevitable. ‘Of course.’
Carter sat in one of the wing-backed chairs in front of the stone fireplace, which was decorated with garlands of holly and tiny silver bells, a huge poinsettia shining resplendent in a silver bowl on the hearth.
The décor should have been cheering, but Stephen was far from cheerful as he took a seat. ‘I assume you want to discuss my investigations into Lillian’s death?’
Carter’s eyes darkened with expectation. ‘I do. I told Elizabeth I would do my utmost not to ruin our Christmas in any way, but you have to appreciate how hard it is for me not to speak of it while you’re here.’
‘I do appreciate that, and I’m prepared to share what I can. So let me tell you what I’ve uncovered.’ Stephen leaned forwards and kept his gaze steady. ‘It could be that Lillian was targeted by this individual because of her charity work. It appears that—’
‘Wait.’ Carter frowned, his gaze angry. ‘You think because Lillian was a kind woman, a generous woman, with a heart bigger than anyone I’ve ever known, those qualities were what got her killed?’
‘Yes.’ Stephen gripped his hands together. ‘I believe the man we are looking for may have killed before. Could even be responsible for the recent killing you, astutely, recognised had similarities with Lillian’s.’
‘Why on earth would someone get killed because they were helping the poor and needy?’ Carter shook his head. ‘You’re wrong. You have to be.’
‘The why doesn’t always make sense. Even if a perpetrator is brought to court and they are found guilty, their motivations can still be incomprehensible. But that doesn’t make their crimes any less real.’
‘For the love of God.’ Carter collapsed back in his seat and ran his hand over his face. ‘Giving and caring were more than duties to Lillian. They were her passions. She called charity her purpose. Her reason for being on this godforsaken earth. Now you’re telling me she was killed for her strengths? Her calling?’
Stephen’s heart twisted with sympathy. ‘I’m sorry.’
Carter’s eyes filled with a mix of anger and pleading. ‘I need you to find this man. Get him locked up for the rest of his evil days.’
‘And I have every intention of doing just that. My inspector at Scotland Yard is also doing what he can from London alongside my investigations here. He wants this killer caught as much as you do.’
‘Your previous inspector, you mean?’
Stephen said nothing. Until he’d told Cornelia he was free to return to London, he wouldn’t tell anyone else.
Carter seemed to calm down as his grip on his chair’s arms relaxed a little. ‘So, what do you plan to do next?’
‘Well,’ Stephen blew out a breath. ‘The most pressing thing is to identify a viable link between the other killings and Lillian’s. If my theory is right, then it was the women’s work that particularly angered the killer. So far, all I know is that they delivered charity to the needy. Independently and from the kindness of their hearts. I need to find—’
‘Not independently.’
‘Sorry, I know you often accompanied—’
‘No, you misunderstand.’ Carter leaned forward again. ‘Lillian was part of a group.’
Dread dropped like lead into Stephen’s heart. Could this mean an entire organisation was on the murderer’s radar? ‘A group?’
‘Yes. They weren’t an official group, but just a circle of young, determined and generous women who came together to do some good in the city’s slums. They would meet at each other’s houses occasionally, to discuss strategies, but mostly they just called on one another for support.’
‘Would Lillian have kept a list of names belonging to this group? Is it possible we could find out whether the two other women who were killed were a part of this organisation?’
Carter got to his feet, his face more animated than Stephen had seen it since he’d arrived at Pennington’s. ‘As far as I can remember, she kept a box with papers relating to her charity work. There could be something in there, but I can’t remember coming across it when I sorted out her things after her funeral.’
‘But that’s not to say you couldn’t find it now.’ Excitement churned in Stephen’s stomach. ‘When you return home, I want you to find this box and let me have everything it contains. There could be something in there that will be helpful.’
‘I can’t leave here until tomorrow, at the earliest. If I suggest we leave tonight, Elizabeth will not be best pleased.’
‘Tomorrow is soon enough. It’s Christmas Day. There’s little either of us can do until morning.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’ Carter walked to a cabinet at the far end of the room. ‘I think we deserve a drink, don’t you?’
‘Why not?’
As Carter poured them each a snifter of brandy, Stephen’s spirits fell. If it came that Lillian Carter’s charity organisation was the killer’s target, the entire investigation had just burst wide open. How many women were in the group? How could he help the Bath constabulary to contact these women and ensure their safety until the killer was apprehended?
He stared at the hearth.
Things had just gone from bad to bloody hellish.