Page 79 of A Whisper in the Shadows

They left the bank a moment later, and, unfortunately, it was raining rather steadily. Tilda pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head. “Did you see one of Jarret’s memories?”

“I did. He was in Mrs. Atkins’s parlor. Phelps was sitting with her on a settee. It reminded me of the vision I saw when we were at her house yesterday, but of course this was from Jarret’s perspective, not hers. She and Phelps appeared to be flirting—they were smiling at one another and were positioned quite close together. Jarret was uncomfortable and was eager to leave. That’s all I saw, I’m afraid. Handshakes don’t typically allow a lengthy vision.”

“How’s your head?”

“It only aches a little, and I expect the pain won’t linger.”

Tilda thought for a moment as they approached Coleman Street. “I’m trying to think if the memory you saw reveals anything new.”

“I don’t know if it did, but it’s perhaps further confirmation that Jarret didn’t care for Phelps. Not that we needed it since we heard that definitively from Jarret. I’m glad we obtained his perspective about Phelps, as well as Furnier and Nevill.”

“Agreed,” Tilda said. “However, I don’t know if Jarret possesses a strong enough motive to have killed Phelps.”

“Jarret certainly made it clear that he thinks the society is better off without Phelps. Isn’t that a motive?”

“It is. I’m just not sure it’s strong enough compared to other suspects. What does Jarret have to gain? If he was jumping at the chance to involve himself in the society, I might be more convinced.”

“I understand what you’re saying.” Hadrian’s brow creased. “Since Jarret was at Mrs. Atkins’s house, perhaps she might be able to tell us more about Jarret’s relationship with Phelps and what happened when the two men parted ways.”

Tilda nodded. “That’s a good idea. We can’t simply take Jarret’s words as truth.”

They arrived at Number Five White Alley. As they were quite damp from the rain, they removed their outer garments in the entrance hall.

Mrs. Kilgore appeared. She wore a cloak as if she were going out.

“Are you off somewhere?” Tilda asked.

“I need to run home for a while,” Mrs. Kilgore replied with a nod. “Mr. Nevill delivered this.” She held out an envelope and Tilda took it.

“It’s to Mr. Harwood and Mr. Beck,” Mrs. Kilgore said.

Tilda glanced at Hadrian and offered him the note. He shrugged and told her to read it.

Opening the envelope, Tilda removed the short missive and scanned the contents. “He’s inviting you to speak with him and Furnier following the inquest today.” She looked up at Hadrian. “I hope that means they’ll be offering you the job as canvasser.”

“I hope so,” Mrs. Kilgore put in. “The society needs to reimburse my cousin for the money her husband paid. You still plan to make sure that happens, won’t you, my lord?”

Hadrian nodded. “I will do my best.”

“Youmusthelp them,” Mrs. Kilgore said imploringly. “It’s not fair that my cousin should suffer, and neither should anyone else who was cheated by that horrible Eaton.”

Tilda gave her a gentle smile. “We are in agreement about that.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you later for dinner.” Mrs. Kilgore pulled the hood of her cloak up, and Hadrian opened the door for her.

As he closed the door, Tilda narrowed her eyes slightly. “Is there a chance she could be the woman in the cloak Mr. Burley saw? What if Mrs. Kilgore called on Phelps to demand he repay her cousin?”

Hadrian’s brows snapped together. “You don’t think she might have killed him?”

“I would be shocked if that were the case, but what if she was there and saw something? Though I’m sure she would have come forward and shared all she knew, given her husband’s position within the police.” Tilda waved her hand. “It was an absurd thought provoked by her donning a cloak.”

She handed Hadrian the note Mrs. Kilgore had given her. “Perhaps you’ll see one of Nevill’s memories.”

Hadrian took the parchment, and right away his gaze went vacant. Tilda noted that it was easier to tell when he was having a vision now, perhaps because he’d learned somewhat to seek them out and focus on what he hoped to see. Whilst that was good for obtaining information, it made him appear odd. Someone watching him might wonder what was happening to him, especially if the visions lasted for some time, as this one seemed to. Thankfully, those that accompanied his handshakes were short.

Finally, he blinked and focused on Tilda.

“You look different now when you have visions,” she said.