Page 88 of A Whisper at Midnight

Hadrian took care to notice everything he could. They were standing in the lodging house in Spitalfields on the landing from which Martha had fallen. He clung to Mrs. Pollard’s hand, hoping he would see what happened next. She took a step toward Martha.

Mrs. Pollard released his hand and thanked him for helping her up. The vision was gone, leaving a searing headache and a lingering sense of rage—not his, but Mrs. Pollard’s.

Of course, it had been her memory, for he’d been touching her hand. Had she pushed Martha? She’d advanced on the young maid as anger coursed through her. If only Hadrian had seen what had happened next.

He was eager to leave. And to tell Tilda what he’d seen, as well as what he’d learned from Daniel Chambers.

Alas, that was not to be as Clara appeared in the doorway. She was extremely pale, and her eyes were round as dinner plates. “Miss Wren, you must come see what I’ve found in Mrs. Chambers’ bedroom.”

Tilda, her forehead creased, moved toward the maid. “What’s that, Clara?”

“A knife.”

CHAPTER 18

“There’s no knife in my chamber,” Beryl said crossly.

Tilda didn’t spare a glance for Beryl as she gestured toward Clara. “Show me, please.”

Clara turned, and Tilda looked toward Hadrian, who gave her a slight nod. She followed Clara and knew that Hadrian would be behind her.

On the stairs, he moved up alongside Tilda. “Wouldn’t the constables who searched the house the other day have found this knife?”

Tilda lifted a shoulder. “I would hope so, but it’s possible they missed it.”

When they reached Beryl’s bedchamber, Tilda saw that a dresser drawer was open.

“It’s in the drawer,” Clara said, but she did not go to the dresser.

Tilda moved toward it, and Hadrian joined her. Lying at the back of the drawer, partially obscured by handkerchiefs, was a knife such as one would use in a kitchen.

Carefully, Tilda moved the handkerchiefs so she could see the knife more clearly. The blade was long and thick—and clean.

Tilda turned her head to look at Clara. “You just found this today?”

“I didn’t notice it before. There are usually stacks of handkerchiefs, but Mrs. Chambers has been going through them rapidly the past several days.”

“Move,” Beryl said loudly as she elbowed her way past Clara into the bedchamber. “What is this about a knife?”

Mrs. Styles-Rowdon followed Beryl into the room, whilst Clara had moved just inside the doorframe, her expression still one of fright or disbelief. Or both. The others who’d been in the dining room, including the housekeeper and Joanna Pollard, loitered outside the bedchamber.

Beryl moved to the other side of Hadrian and looked into the drawer. “Where on earth did that come from?” She turned and glared at Clara. “Did you put that there?”

Clara gasped. “I did not.”

Tilda fixed her attention on Beryl. “Are you saying you did not put this knife in your drawer?”

“Of course not.”

“And why would you think Clara did?” Tilda asked.

Beryl threw up her hands. “Who else comes into my room?”

“You must consider that people who are not expected to be in your bedchamber may have been. Just as you must consider that someone outside this household may have come into this house to both poison and stab your husband.” Tilda looked around at everyone, her gaze lingering on the housekeeper. “Is there any way someone could gain access to the house without anyone noticing?”

Mrs. Blank pursed her lips. “Sometimes the back door is left unlocked. I told the detective inspector about that, just as I told him I don’t know if it was unlocked the night Mr. Chambers died. May I look at the knife? To see if it is from the kitchen.”

“You can tell?” Tilda asked.