Page 113 of A Whisper in the Shadows

“How do you know Phelps killed him?” Chisholm asked sharply.

“Because when I went to see Phelps, I asked if he knew where Tim had gone. Phelps acted strangely, and he said Tim had got what he deserved. He tried to blame everything on him.” Draper’s voice was climbing. “I was tired of his lies. The society deserved better than him!”

“That’s when you struck him with the candlestick?” Tilda kept her voice even.

Draper nodded.

Chisholm fixed his dark gaze on Draper. “Sounds as though I’ll be charging you with the murder of Walter Phelps and the attempted murders of Inspector Maxwell and Lord Ravenhurst.” He closed his eyes briefly, then sent Hadrian an apologetic glance.

“Lord Ravenhurst?” Furnier gasped as Draper paled.

“I struck a peer?” Draper asked faintly.

“An earl.” Tilda narrowed her gaze at Draper. “Why would you take the candle from Phelps’s house and use it here in plain sight?”

Draper stared at her a moment. “It was a good candle. I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“Where is the brass candlestick you used to kill Phelps?” Chisholm asked.

Casting his focus to the floor, Draper mumbled his response. “Hidden under my bed. I was going to sell it in a month or so.”

Tilda concluded that Draper wasn’t terribly bright. He seemed ruled by emotion and perhaps economy, as evidenced by his reusing of Phelps’s candle, regardless of the risk that possessing it would implicate him in a murder, and his intent to sell the weapon he’d used to kill Phelps. He’d made a series of poor choices and hadn’t seemed to fully consider the consequences.

Chisholm looked to the constable. “Handcuffs, if you please, Selby.”

The young constable made his way to Draper and placed the cuffs on his wrists.

“What of my wife?” Draper asked, his voice breaking. “My children?”

“I will explain to them what has happened,” Tilda said. “It may be best if you go now before your family returns. Mrs. Draper can visit you later.” If she wanted to. Though Tilda had questions for her about the biscuits. “Wait,” she said to Inspector Chisholm. “I want to ask Draper about the biscuits he sent to Inspector Maxwell.”

“Yes, I would like to know how much arsenic was used,” Dr. Giles said. “It will help determine the inspector’s recovery.”

“I added arsenic when my wife was distracted with the children,” Draper replied. “I didn’t add much. I really was only trying to make him sick. I made sure all the biscuits went to Harwood and Beck.”

Dr. Giles glared at Draper. “You fool. You endangered your wife by allowing her to cook with the poison.”

Draper blanched. “I thought it would be fine if she didn’t eat any.”

“Let’s go,” Chisholm said, inclining his head toward the door.

The constable took Draper by the arm and guided him out.

Chisholm looked to Tilda and Hadrian. “I’ll expect you to call at the station later to provide testimony. My apologies for revealing your identity, my lord. That was not my intent.”

“I do hope you won’t be charging Nevill with murder now that Draper has been arrested,” Tilda said.

“He was still involved with Eaton’s death,” the inspector replied.

“Yes, but only to dispose of the body,” Tilda argued. “He didn’t kill the man—there’s no proof that he did and every indication that it was Phelps. We know he left his house to fetch Nevill, who he had stop at his shop for the fabric with which to wrap the body. I believe that indicates Eaton was already dead at Phelps’s house.”

Chisholm’s brows pitched down over his eyes. “Nevill is still guilty of aiding a murderer.”

“Yes, but he’s not a killer.” Tilda knew Nevill wasn’t blameless, but he shouldn’t hang for a crime he didn’t commit.

“I suppose not.” Chisholm did not sound pleased. He departed, leaving Tilda and Hadrian with Furnier and Dr. Giles.

“Let me tend to your head,” Dr. Giles said. He’d brought his bag with him and set it on the table that Draper had used to hit Hadrian.