Page 49 of A Whisper in the Shadows (Raven & Wren #4)
“Nevill certainly seems guilty, along with Phelps. Too bad he’s dead or we could use them against one another to learn the truth.
” Tilda slid him a sideways glance. “We’ll need to come up with a way to provoke him to confess what happened when we call at his shop.
First, we’ll need to return to White Alley and disguise ourselves as Mrs. Harwood and Mr. Beck. ”
Hadrian noted her slightly pursed lips. “You don’t look happy about that.”
“I didn’t think we were finished disguising ourselves, but I’m not looking forward to powdering my hair again.”
“I will miss the way you look,” he said. “But it’s only temporary. And perhaps not for much longer at all.”
“Let us hurry.” Tilda quickened her pace. “I’m quite anxious to speak with Nevill, knowing what we know now.”
“What if Inspector Chisholm has taken him to the police station?” Hadrian mused.
Tilda exhaled. “I suppose that’s possible. We must be careful not to encounter Chisholm, lest he wonder why we’re making these inquiries.”
“We may very well uncover Eaton’s murderer today,” Hadrian said. “I wonder how Chisholm will take that.”
“I’d like to think he’d be grateful, but he may not appreciate our involvement in his investigation.” She straightened her shoulders. “In the end, if the killer is caught, it shouldn’t matter.” She turned her head and met Hadrian’s gaze. “Hopefully he soon will be.”
T ilda lamented her transformation back into Mrs. Harwood.
She truly hated powdering her hair. Thankfully, she’d had Mrs. Kilgore’s assistance, as it was difficult to accomplish a thorough job of it on her own.
It was much easier for Hadrian to don his hairpieces.
Tilda wished she’d thought to obtain a wig from Mrs. Longbotham.
Disguised once more as Mrs. Harwood and Nigel Beck, Tilda and Hadrian made their way to Nevill’s shop in Moorgate. There were a pair of employees inside, each working with a customer, whilst a few other patrons poked around the shop.
Nevill was not present, but then he’d come from the back last time they visited. Tilda hoped that would also be the case this time. She and Hadrian looked about for several minutes before one of the employees was finally free. When none of the other clients approached him, Tilda did so.
“Good afternoon,” she said to the young man, recognizing him from the last time they’d been to the shop. “We’re looking for Mr. Nevill.”
“Mr. Nevill’s not typically here on Saturday afternoons. Can I help you with something?”
Tilda exchanged a disappointed look with Hadrian. “We’d like to have a coat made for my brother here.”
The young man nodded. “Shall I show you some plates and fabric swatches?”
“I know what fabric I’d like,” Hadrian said. “Dark blue broadcloth with a simple plaid. It almost doesn’t look like plaid at first glance. A friend has a coat made from it, and I’m sure he said it came from this shop.”
“That is very specific.” The young man’s face creased. “I’m not sure we have something exactly like that at the moment.”
Tilda pulled the swatch from her pocket and held it out in her palm. She displayed the side without the chalk mark. “This is the fabric. My brother’s friend gave it to us.”
The clerk nodded. “We did have that, but I’m afraid we don’t right now.” He gave them an apologetic grimace. “It actually went missing last week. I’d just marked out a pattern for a coat on it.”
That explained the chalk , Tilda thought.
“You’ve no idea what happened to it?” Hadrian asked.
Tilda wondered how they could lose an entire bolt of fabric. But, of course, they hadn’t. Nevill had taken it and not told anyone. Which he wouldn’t have, given what he’d used it for.
The young man shook his head. “I was hoping I just put it somewhere and didn’t remember and that it would turn up. Do you want to see other swatches?” he asked Hadrian. “We have some other very nice blue plaids.”
“I’ll think about it,” Hadrian said with a vague smile. “We appreciate your time.” He and Tilda turned and left the shop.
“When Nevill wasn’t there, I was prepared to be disappointed,” Tilda said.
“You seemed to be for a moment,” Hadrian noted.
“I was, but we were able to obtain confirmation that this fabric came from his shop. And now we have proof to present to others—since we cannot share your vision—that Nevill was involved with at least the disposal of Eaton’s corpse.
” She paused and turned to face Hadrian.
“Except we can’t prove that Eaton’s body was wrapped in the fabric, just that the broadcloth came from Nevill’s shop and a piece of it was found in a night soil cart that he and Phelps paid Oldham to borrow. ”
“We also have Oldham’s testimony that he burned a large piece of that fabric soaked in supposed pig’s blood.” He gave her a sardonic look. “We don’t really think the night soil cart was used to dispose of a pig, do we?”
Tilda shook her head. “Absolutely not. That ties Nevill to the disposal of something bloody. But we don’t yet have evidence that Eaton was at Phelps’s house on Saturday night. We’re going to have to coax a confession out of Nevill.”
“We’ve done that before,” Hadrian said. “Using the information we have from my visions.”
Tilda nodded. “The meeting at the Swan and Hoop is tonight. Let’s see if we can provoke a confession from Nevill.”
“What are we going to tell Maxwell?” Hadrian asked.
They began walking once more. “We’ll tell him about our meeting with the night soil man and finding the fabric,” Tilda replied. “Since Oldham described Nevill as one of the men who borrowed the cart, we wondered if the chalk mark might indicate the fabric came from his tailoring shop.”
Hadrian grinned. “Genius. That leads us directly to Nevill’s shop, and we can inform Maxwell of what we learned from the employee.”
“Precisely.” Tilda exhaled. “It’s too bad we can’t tell Maxwell about Nevill and Phelps standing over Eaton’s dead body in Phelps’s parlor.
But hopefully the ‘pig’s blood’ that the night soil man reported seeing on the fabric, and the fact that they paid him to dispose of it, will convince Maxwell that they were transporting a dead body. ”
Silence reigned for several minutes as they walked. Tilda thought through ways they could provoke Nevill to confess.
“If we can provoke him to confess about Eaton, perhaps he’ll do so about Phelps too,” Hadrian said as they turned into White Alley. “Whether Nevill killed either man, or both of them, he’s been hiding things.”
“That is certainly true. Once he knows we’re aware of that, he should begin to unravel.” She shot him a look full of anticipation as the scheme crystallized in her mind. “And I know exactly how to pull the thread.”