Page 102 of A Whisper in the Shadows

“Pull yourself together, man,” Furnier snapped. He looked down his nose at the distraught Nevill. “Did you and Phelps kill Eaton together? And then you killed Phelps? I wouldn’t have imagined you could be capable of murder, but it seems I was wrong.”

Nevill lifted his head and wiped his hands over his face. He drew a deep, shuddering breath. “I swear I didn’t kill anyone.”

Maxwell fixed his gaze on Nevill. “What—rather, who—was in the night soil cart? We know you borrowed it along with Phelps.”

“And don’t say it was a pig,” Hadrian warned.

Tilda wanted to join in the interrogation, but her participation would draw questions. Whilst she and her partners acknowledged it was possible their true identities may come to light before the end of the evening, they hoped to remain in disguise for a little while longer. Hadrian still hoped to ensure the people who were cheated by Eaton and Phelps were financially restored.

“It was Eaton in the cart,” Nevill said, looking and sounding defeated. “But I didn’t kill him. Phelps did. He came to my house and told me I had to help him with a problem, but that first we had to stop at my shop to fetch some fabric. He didn’t explain anything. He was a friend in distress, so I complied.

“What on earth are you saying?” Mrs. Atkins shrieked. “What night soil cart? What happened to the pig?”

“There was no pig,” Tilda said softly. “Mr. Nevill is confessing that he helped Mr. Phelps with a problem, and it appears that may have been disposing of Mr. Eaton’s body.”

Mrs. Atkins sucked in a breath as her hand fluttered before her chest. “I feel faint.”

Hadrian bolted from his chair and pulled it toward Mrs. Atkins. She sat down soundly, and Hadrian had to keep it steady.

“My fan…” Mrs. Atkins managed as she held up her reticule with a shaking hand.

Tilda opened the reticule and retrieved a fan, which she opened and handed to Mrs. Atkins. But the woman didn’t take it. She glowered at Tilda in silent remonstration. Clearly, Tilda needed to fan her. Clenching her jaw, she did as the woman wanted.

Hadrian exchanged a suffering glance with Tilda before returning to stand near the table.

“Please continue,” Maxwell prompted Nevill. “You owe everyone here the complete truth.”

Nevill gave a faint nod. “We arrived at Phelps’s house, and Eaton was dead on the floor of the parlor. There was a great deal of blood.” Nevill’s face turned green.

“Why didn’t you fetch a constable?” Furnier demanded.

“I wanted to, but Phelps swore it was an accident.” Nevill wrung his hands, and the pitch of his voice rose. “He was afraid he’d hang. He said he’d caught Eaton in his corruption and confronted him. Eaton came at him, and Phelps grabbed his knife from the mantel to defend himself. I-I believed him.”

“But you don’t believe that’s true now?” Maxwell asked.

Nevill shook his head. “The night Phelps died—when I went back to his house after the meeting—I learned he’d been part of the original swindle.”

Tilda stopped fanning Mrs. Atkins and stepped toward the table between Hadrian and Maxwell. “How did you discover his role?”

Nevill blinked at her, as if he was surprised to hear her ask the question. Tilda simply hadn’t been able to remain quiet another moment. “When he went to pour the wine, I noticed a diary on his desk. It was open, and I saw a name at the top of the page that I didn’t recognize. But there were amounts listed, and I could see they were entrance fees and weekly dues, only for more money than we typically charge.”

Tilda and Hadrian looked at one another. That had to be the ledger they’d reviewed.

“At first, I thought it must have belonged to Eaton, and he’d catalogued the members he’d recruited, as well as the amount of money he’d charged,” Nevill continued. “However, it was written in Phelps’s handwriting. It washisrecordkeeping. He knew about the corruption.”

“And you discovered his deceit,” Maxwell said with a frown. “That would have been an excellent motive to kill him. You were, apparently, the last to see him alive.”

Nevill did, in fact, appear quite guilty.

“I didn’t kill him,” Nevill cried, his eyes wide. “And I didn’t kill Eaton. I did help take his body to the Thames, and I lied about that. I’m so ashamed.” Tears streamed down his cheeks once more.

“You’ll go to prison for that,” Furnier said.

“You definitely won’t be part of the Amicable Society anymore,” Draper declared.

Giles stared at Nevill in cold fury. “When you told us Phelps and Eaton had worked together to swindle the society, you could have told us the entire story but didn’t. How can we trust anything you say?”

Nevill put his hand on his heart. “I swear I’m telling the truth now. I will go to the police, and I will tell them everything.”