Page 105 of A Whisper in the Shadows

“I agree with that too. But I don’t know that I’m the right person to continue with it.” Furnier gave them a sad smile—the only smile Tilda had ever seen him crack.

“I know you’ve suffered losses, Mr. Furnier,” Tilda said softly. She also glanced at Mrs. Furnier. “You are perhaps thebestperson to ensure the society’s success.”

Mrs. Furnier nodded at Tilda and curled her arm through her husband’s. “I’ll make sure he considers it.”

Furnier looked to his wife and a more genuine smile—one filled with love—lifted his features. “Let us go to the police station now.” He glanced back at Maxwell and Hadrian. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After the Furniers left, Tilda turned toward Maxwell. “You seem genuinely interested in the society’s future.”

Maxwell lifted a shoulder. “I do live in the ward—at the police station. I think I’d like to retain my membership. Provided they don’t kick me out once they learn I’ve lied about who I am.” A faint smile crossed his mouth.

“I felt guilty committing to the society, knowing I won’t be there,” Hadrian said quietly. “I was encouraging Furnier toappoint Draper. The society needs people to continue. I feel badly that they are relying on us as part of the society’s rebirth.”

“I understand.” Tilda met Hadrian’s gaze. “I’m sure you won’t abandon them entirely.”

“No, I won’t do that,” Hadrian assured her.

“Neither will I,” Maxwell said. “Shall we go to Old Jewry?”

Tilda nodded, and the three of them made their way to the common room. Mrs. Atkins was seated at a table and immediately stood upon seeing them. Tilda heard Hadrian exhale.

“I’m quite serious about the society continuing,” Mrs. Atkins said without preamble. “I’m trusting you both to be my advocates, since Furnier and Nevill won’t allow me to participate officially. Not that Nevill will have any say going forward. Perhaps Dr. Giles will be stepping in.”

“Actually, Draper has put himself forward to be an administrator,” Maxwell replied. “Dr. Giles said he wants to remove himself from the society completely.”

Mrs. Atkins frowned. “That’s a shame. He was a good representative for the society with that engaging smile of his.”

Tilda stifled a smirk. Mrs. Atkins was easily won by an attractive face.

“I’m not surprised Draper would offer himself,” Mrs. Atkins continued. “He has been a staunch advocate for the society, and his wife too. In fact, if the society falls apart, I may work with them to found a new one.”

“How wonderful to create a society that would also accept women,” Tilda said.

Mrs. Atkins’s gaze snapped to her and widened briefly. “I didn’t say we’d be doingthat.”

Tilda considered asking why. Since they were women starting a society, it seemed only natural that women would beallowed membership. But she glimpsed futility in the endeavor and decided to remain silent.

Turning toward Hadrian, Mrs. Atkins fluttered her lashes. “I don’t suppose you’d care to see me home, Mr. Beck?”

“I’m afraid we’re expected at the police station,” he said apologetically, but Tilda knew he was relieved to have an excuse to refuse the woman. “Have a good evening.”

Tilda and Maxwell bid Mrs. Atkins good evening as well, then followed Hadrian from the pub. Something wasn’t sitting quite right with Tilda. She wasn’t sure if it was Chisholm’s anger at how the case was resolved, or if the case wasn’tactuallyresolved. She still wasn’t completely convinced that Nevill had killed Phelps, and, thanks to Hadrian, she was certain Nevill hadn’t helped Phelps kill Eaton.

But if not Nevill, who was Phelps’s murderer?

CHAPTER 24

After spending a few hours at the police station, Tilda had arrived back at White Alley late and in the company of Hadrian and Maxwell. She found herself wanting to discuss the case, primarily with Hadrian, so they could talk about his visions and how they might use them to find Phelps’s killer.

It seemed Maxwell was as convinced as Chisholm that Nevill was guilty of both murders. But Tilda didn’t hold that against him. Maxwell didn’t have the benefit of everything Tilda and Hadrian knew, nor could he.

The evidence had been enough to convince Sergeant Kilgore that Nevill should be charged with the murders of Eaton and Phelps. Indeed, he hadn’t required much persuasion.

Since they’d returned to White Alley so late, Tilda had retired immediately. She’d been hungry but was too tired to eat. Hadrian and Maxwell had gone downstairs to the kitchen to forage for whatever they could find. Tilda was sure Mrs. Kilgore would have assisted them.

Still, when Tilda woke the next morning, she found Mrs. Kilgore was up early too. Tilda made her way to the kitchen and encountered the woman brewing tea with an odd odor.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kilgore,” Tilda said. “What do I smell?”