Page 46 of A Whisper in the Shadows

Mrs. Burley sat forward in her chair and nodded eagerly. “I am.”

“Please tell the jury what you saw on Monday evening, the eleventh of May.”

“Well, Mondays are when the Amicable Society meets here at the Swan and Hoop. My husband and I walked home from the meeting.” She flicked a glance toward her husband, who sat to her right. “We saw Mr. Phelps walking to his house in the company of Mr. Nevill, but that wasn’t unusual.”

Hadrian looked at Nevill to see his reaction. He kept rubbing the palm of his hand against his knee. The repetitive action made him appear nervous. Beside him, Mr. Furnier looked annoyed, his face pinched. His lips pursed when Mrs. Burley said it was typical for Nevill and Phelps to return to his house after a meeting.

Was that because Furnier was perturbed to be left out of whatever Phelps and Nevill may have discussed on their walk? Or perhaps Furnier hadn’t been aware that the two men often went to Phelps’s house together after meetings.

“Did you notice when Mr. Nevill left?” Thetford asked.

“Just before eleven,” she replied. “I know because I was pulling the draperies closed in the bedchamber as I was preparing to retire. I looked down and saw him leaving.”

“And did you see anyone else enter or leave Mr. Phelps’s house that evening?”

“I did not, but I also wasn’t watching the entire time,” she added with a light laugh. “Some will say I know everything that goes on in our street, but that isn’t entirely true. I do have a household to run.”

The coroner cocked his head. “Mrs. Burley, would you describe yourself as an observant person?”

“I would,” she replied proudly.

“Had you noticed any of the society administrators or the physician arguing?”

“Mr. Burley said that Mr. Furnier seemed annoyed with Mr. Phelps and Mr. Nevill at last week’s meeting. Then, afterward, I saw Mr. Phelps and Mr. Nevill arguing, though I don’t know what they said.”

“That was the meeting on the fourth of May?” Thetford clarified.

“Yes. I noted that Mr. Nevill didnotaccompany Mr. Phelps back to his house that night.”

Thetford shifted his gaze to her husband. “Mr. Burley, did you note anyone else calling on Mr. Phelps?”

Mr. Burley, his face pink, shook his nearly bald head. “I went to sleep as soon as we arrived home.”

“I see.” Thetford clasped his hands behind his back. “You are a member of the Amicable Society?”

“Yes.”

Mrs. Burley drew herself up and lifted her chin. “He was one of the first to be offered membership. We met Mr. Phelps not long after he took his lodgings across the street from us.”

“When was that?” Thetford asked.

“Late September,” she replied.

Again, Thetford looked to Burley. “You’ve been happy with your membership?”

Burley nodded. He appeared to be a man of few words, but perhaps that was because his wife used them all.

Thetford unlocked his hands and took a step toward Burley. “Who do you think killed Mr. Phelps?”

Burley shrugged. “How would I know?”

The coroner looked to Mrs. Burley, who was clearly having difficulty not speaking. She’d moved even more to the edge of her seat. Indeed, Hadrian feared she may slip to the floor in her eagerness.

“What is your opinion, Mrs. Burley?” Thetford asked.

“I don’t know that I have anopinion. I just know that some people were unhappy with the Amicable Society because of certain memberships that were offered to people who weren’t well.”

“Which people?”