Page 42 of A Whisper in the Shadows (Raven & Wren #4)

W hilst Hadrian and Maxwell loitered on London Wall at the end of Second Postern, Tilda made her way to Mrs. Burley’s house. She knocked on the door and was pleased when Mrs. Burley answered almost immediately.

The older woman brightened upon seeing Tilda. “I saw you walking up the street, Mrs. Harwood. My husband said you called yesterday, and that I missed something very exciting at Mr. Phelps’s house. Do come in!”

Tilda braced herself for the gossip session that was to come. “Thank you.” She stepped into the small entrance hall that was really just a landing for the stairs leading up to the first floor.

Mrs. Burley closed the door, then moved past Tilda into the small parlor that looked out to the street. “I planned to call on you tomorrow, but I’m glad you came today, as I was feeling rather impatient to speak with you.” She laughed brightly. “Can I offer you tea?”

Tilda gave her a pleasant smile. “No, thank you. I can’t stay too long, as I need to meet Mr. Harwood.”

Mrs. Burley nodded and gestured toward the seating area. She took a seat in a well-worn chair upholstered with yellow damask. “Mr. Burley says you saw a woman being taken away by Inspector Chisholm from Mr. Phelps’s house last night. I’m very disappointed I missed that.”

Tilda sat opposite her hostess in a chair with a dull yellow cushion.

“Yes, my brother and I just happened to be walking by last night and saw what happened. I almost didn’t come here to ask, but I’m afraid my curiosity got the better of me.

” She cast her gaze down briefly as if she were embarrassed.

“I do understand.” Mrs. Burley gave her a knowing look. “I wonder who it was.”

Seizing the opportunity to obliquely ask about Mrs. Cardy’s visit to Phelps, Tilda grimaced faintly.

“Do you think it may have been Mrs. Cardy? I can imagine her confronting Phelps. I might do that if I were in her position. In fact, I thought I’d heard she called on him before he died.

” It was a risk to mention that last part since there was no such rumor, and if there was, Mrs. Burley would surely have heard it.

Mrs. Burley met Tilda’s gaze. “Where did you hear that?”

“I don’t recall. Is it not true? I wouldn’t blame her for seeking him out.”

“It is true,” Mrs. Burley said softly and exhaled.

“However, Mrs. Cardy didn’t visit Phelps on Monday night—it was Sunday afternoon, and I was with her.

But you mustn’t tell anyone because I was not forthcoming about our visit at the inquest. I didn’t want the police to have any more reason to suspect Mrs. Cardy of murdering Phelps. She didn’t do it.”

“You’re certain of that?” Tilda asked.

Mrs. Burley’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “She was at home with her children. She has a stronger alibi than I do.”

“Of course,” Tilda said quickly. “But I hope you aren’t suggesting you may have killed him.” She donned a look of horror that prompted Mrs. Burley to wave her hand.

“It wasn’t me either.” Mrs. Burley’s brow creased as she appeared to think for a moment. “Could the female visitor on Monday night have been Mrs. Atkins?”

“Why would she have gone to Mr. Phelps’s house so late?” Tilda asked.

Mrs. Burley shrugged. “I suspected she and Mr. Phelps were engaged in an affair. They seemed to have a tendre for one another. At least, she seemed to. I’m not so sure about Mr. Phelps.”

Tilda widened her eyes and parted her lips to appear rapt. “Why is that?”

“I think Mrs. Atkins may have believed they were closer than they actually were,” Mrs. Burley said in a confidential tone. “I happened to see Mr. Phelps with another woman last Sunday. They met at the Black Anchor. Mr. Burley and I were there for supper.”

“Indeed?” Tilda asked breathlessly. “What did the woman look like? Perhaps she was the one taken away by Inspector Chisholm last night.”

Mrs. Burley’s eyes rounded, and she sucked in a breath. “You may be right. She had dark hair and was perhaps in her middle thirties. I made a point of walking past their table to see her better. Her eyes were an unusual amber color.”

Tilda suspected the woman was Ida Walters based on that description. “You saw them on Sunday, you say?”

Mrs. Burley nodded. “I don’t know if they were romantically inclined, but their heads were bent close together, and they seemed rather intimate. Come to think of it, the woman was flushed.”

“Was she agitated?” Tilda asked. If the woman was indeed Ida Walters, which Tilda was inclined to think, she’d arrived in town sooner than she said.

This was not surprising as they’d all believed she was lying.

Tilda would share this information with Inspector Chisholm.

Perhaps he could use it to press more of the truth from Mrs. Walters.

“Do you think she was the same person Inspector Chisholm took away last night?” Mrs. Burley asked.

“She could be,” Tilda said slowly, as if she were pondering the idea. “I did not see her very well as it was dark and she was wearing a cloak. I would guess she was probably in her thirties, so perhaps it was the same person.”

Mrs. Burley lifted her chin. “I’ve half a mind to call at the police station and offer my assistance to Inspector Chisholm. I could meet this woman he has in custody—assuming he still does—and see if she is the same person.”

“That would probably be helpful,” Tilda said. In fact, she would plan on telling the inspector what she’d learned. However, she didn’t want Chisholm to come to White Alley. She wanted to visit the police station and interview Mrs. Walters, if he’d allow it.

Tilda put her mind back to the gossip session with Mrs. Burley. “I wonder what Mrs. Atkins would say if she knew Mr. Phelps had another…friend.”

“I believe she’d be jealous.” Mrs. Burley cocked her head.

“Would she?” Tilda frowned. “She doesn’t seem sad about his death.”

“She doesn’t strike me as the sort of person who allows melancholy to overtake her. When her husband died, she didn’t even mourn for a year. But I don’t know her well. We aren’t friends,” she added with a chuckle, as if the notion were amusing.

Tilda believed that. She couldn’t imagine Mrs. Atkins would consider someone of Mrs. Burley’s station her equal. “Why then do you suspect she’d be jealous?”

“I’ve observed Mrs. Atkins to enjoy the attentions of various gentlemen, especially Mr. Phelps,” Mrs. Burley said thoughtfully. “I don’t think she’d care to share him with someone else. She’d take that as a personal slight.”

“I see.” Tilda agreed with Mrs. Burley’s assessment of Mrs. Atkins. “Have you seen her go to Mr. Phelps’s house before?”

“Once or twice,” Mrs. Burley replied. “But Mr. Phelps has many visitors. Mr. Nevill calls on him, and they often return together to his house after the society meetings on Monday night.” She blinked.

“I saw them on last Saturday evening together, but it was odd. Mr. Phelps left his house and returned a short while later with Nevill. I didn’t see them leave. ”

“Why was that odd?” Tilda asked. “You said Mr. Nevill visits regularly.”

“Yes, but Mr. Nevill doesn’t typically visit on Saturday evenings, and it was quite late, nearly midnight, when they arrived together.

Sometime later, two night soil men came around, and I noticed neither was the usual night soil man, Mr. Oldham.

He either works alone or brings his son, who is around ten years of age. ”

Tilda resisted the urge to ask Mrs. Burley why she paid such close attention to her neighbors. Whilst Tilda found it annoying, in this case, the woman’s behavior was most helpful. “You’re sure it wasn’t Mr. Oldham and his son?”

“No, it was two grown men in heavy cloaks, which I suppose is what I found strange. They didn’t look to be dressed for taxing night soil work. I saw the cart parked in front of Mr. Phelps’s house, then they pushed it toward London Wall without going to anyone else’s yard.”

“That is odd.” Tilda imagined a night soil cart would be an excellent way to dispose of a dead body, but she didn’t have enough information about Eaton’s death to make any conclusions. “Did you ever find out what happened?”

“No, but I should inquire. Mrs. Oldham is a friendly sort. They just live over in Evans Court.”

Tilda stored that information away for later. She wanted to speak with this night soil man, Mr. Oldham. But she also didn’t want Mrs. Burley seeing her doing so. “When do you plan to do that?”

Mrs. Burley waved her hand. “I’ll speak with her at church on Sunday more than likely. I’ve a busy day tomorrow already with my daughter-in-law.”

Moving on to a new subject to see what else she might learn from Mrs. Burley, Tilda adopted an eager expression. “I’ve just come from Eaton’s inquest.”

Mrs. Burley clapped her hands together. “I heard that was today. I’m sorry I missed it. Do tell me what happened, if you please.”

Tilda provided a description of the events and tried to make it as interesting and gossip-worthy as possible. “One of the most exciting things that happened today is that my brother was hired as the new canvasser for the Amicable Society.”

Mrs. Burley’s brows rose. “How splendid! That must be quite different from working at a gentlemen’s club.

” Confusion marred her brow. “In truth, I can’t imagine why he’d prefer that.

I should think working in the West End with the wealthy would be fascinating.

Think of the gossip he hears.” Her eyes glowed with excitement.

“Nigel isn’t one for gossip,” Tilda replied. “I think that’s frowned upon at the gentlemen’s clubs anyway.”

“I suppose it would be,” Mrs. Burley said with a disappointed frown.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll do a better job than Timothy Eaton did,” Tilda said firmly. “He certainly has no plans to swindle anyone. In fact, he’s very committed to ensuring all those hurt by Mr. Eaton’s actions will be reimbursed.”

“Do you think there’s a great many more people than just Gilbert Cardy?” Mrs. Burley asked.