Page 52 of A Whisper in the Shadows

“He wouldn’t,” Rippon said firmly, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

The coroner’s brows arched briefly. “I was merely asking a question. It’s not my job to form an opinion. Thank you for your testimony, Mr. Rippon.”

Unclasping his hands, Thetford moved to stand before the unknown woman with the half-veil. “I appreciate you coming today, Mrs. Atkins.” He glanced toward the clerk. “This is Mrs. Charles Atkins.” He returned his attention to the lady, who tilted her head back to look up at him. “Will you tell everyone how you knew Mr. Phelps?”

“I met him at church one Sunday.” Mrs. Atkins spoke with a breathy rasp. “We became instant friends. He told me of his plan to start a friendly society, which I found to be a wonderful idea. I was eager to provide financial support to ensure its success.”

“Did he ask you for that support or did you offer it?”

Mrs. Atkins was silent a moment. “I don’t recall.” She waved her gloved hand. “It doesn’t matter. I invested in the society because I believed it would provide a much-needed service to the ward. My husband, God rest his soul, would have wantedto partner with Mr. Phelps. As a woman, I could not found the society with Mr. Phelps either. I gave him money instead.”

“You gave it to him?” Thetford asked with surprise. “Or you loaned it?”

“It was an investment of sorts,” Mrs. Atkins explained. “Mr. Phelps explained that I would earn a dividend, but not for a year.”

Tilda paid close attention to the reactions of the other witnesses, namely Nevill, Furnier, Giles, and Jarret. The latter seemed genuinely surprised. He turned his body toward Mrs. Atkins and regarded her with open curiosity.

“Were you aware of the accusations regarding members being admitted to the society despite being ill?” the coroner asked.

“I’d heard the rumor, but I can’t believe Mr. Phelps would have allowed such a thing to happen,” she said with a tsk. “I’m sure it was a clerical error.”

Mrs. Cardy, who sat to Mrs. Atkins’s right, turned her head and glared at the other widow.

“Did you speak with Mr. Phelps about the matter?” Thetford asked.

“Perhaps. I don’t exactly recall—we discussed a great many things.” She paused to smile briefly. “We took tea together every Thursday. Last week was the last time I saw him.”

“It seems as though you were close friends,” the coroner observed. “Do you have any ideas as to who may have killed him?”

“I would never comment on such a ghastly act. Indeed, I don’t really wish to be here today, but I’m concerned this entire situation will cast a shadow over the goodness of the Amicable Society. I earnestly believe the society should be preserved.” She added the last with a great deal of fervor.

“Thank you, Mrs. Atkins.” Thetford pivoted to address the final witness, Mrs. Cardy. “We appreciate your presence here today, Mrs. Cardy, so soon after the loss of your husband. How long had he suffered from consumption?”

“Well over a year,” Mrs. Cardy replied. “I can’t say for certain. I think one of my daughters is sick now,” she added sadly.

Tilda’s chest constricted. The poor woman had been through enough.

The coroner’s brow creased. “I’m sorry to hear that. Your husband paid an entrance fee to join the Amicable Society. Do you know how much that was?”

“’E said it was six shillings.”

“The entrance fee for his age is half that,” Furnier said. He glowered toward Mrs. Cardy. “You are mistaken, ma’am.”

“I am not mistaken,” she snapped back. “I know what my ’usband told me!”

“Do you have a receipt for that fee?” Furnier asked crisply.

Mrs. Cardy crossed her arms and squeezed herself into a smaller shape than she already was. “All my ’usband got was a certificate with ’is name on it.”

“Does the certificate include anything about the entrance fee?” Thetford asked.

Mrs. Cardy shook her head, and Thetford’s brow creased. “Can you present this membership certificate?”

Her cheeks flushed. “I burned it.”

Thetford looked toward Nevill. “I’d like to see what this membership certificate looks like.”

Nevill frowned. “I’m afraid I can’t help you. That was something Eaton provided to the members he recruited.”