Page 13 of In Want of a Suspect
Darcy looked at her sidelong. “Usually people close their shutters when they don’t want anyone looking in.”
She knew that, of course. But that begged the question: What exactly was so secretive about discussing the day’s shipments?Unless Jack wasn’t telling the whole truth.
Lizzie was not prepared to go down that path quite yet. “All right, Jack said they were inside talking business. They would have needed a lamp.”
“Did he say where exactly they were when they first noticed this intruder?”
“No,” Lizzie said, suddenly wishing she’d asked Jack to meet them there and walk them through it exactly. “But there is an office in the back, if I recall correctly. And Jack talked about chasing the woman, so it’s likely that’s where they were. Lizzie closed her eyes and tried to picture it. A quiet day, no shipments in or out, discussing business when suddenly they hear a sound—someone is in the storehouse.
She opened her eyes. “There is one thing...”
“What is it?”
“Jack said that he saw her, and all three men immediately ‘went after her.’”
Darcy understood immediately. “They went after her, rather than ask her what she was doing there?”
“I suppose they could have assumed she was a thief. But why assume the lady is a thief and not someone who was lost?”
“Guilty minds often leap to guilty assumptions,” Darcy pointed out. “But wait—did he actually see this lady start the fire?”
“No.” Lizzie knew what he was thinking: Any solicitor worth their salt would argue that if no one witnessed this woman start the fire, then no one could know with any certainty that she wasresponsible. Lizzie would deal with that detail later—first, they had to find her.
Darcy let out a hmph. “And if we can presume that they have a lamp or lantern, and they’re chasing after a young woman, then it could have just as easily been any one of them who set the fire.”
“I can’t disagree with your logic, but I think before we can come to any definitive conclusions, we need to see inside.”And find that young lady, she thought.
Lizzie and Darcy approached the front of the building, where there was a makeshift gate nailed together out of broken-down shipping crates. A stout man with a dark beard and distrustful eyes watched them approach, and Lizzie recognized him from the day before as one of the men who’d held Jack back from running into the building.
“Good day, sir,” Lizzie said smoothly. “I’m Miss Bennet of Longbourn and Sons, and Mr. Mullins has hired me.”
“Longbourn and Sons?” the man repeated. “What are you, then? Accountants?”
“Solicitors,” Lizzie clarified. “Our condolences for yesterday’s tragedy, Mr....?”
The man eyed her suspiciously, but reluctantly said, “Parry.”
“Mr. Parry,” Lizzie repeated. So this was the foreman. “I’m so sorry. I’m certain you’re still shaken. But as you may know, Mr. Mullins hired me to try to get to the bottom of who, or what, caused the fire. May we ask you a few questions?”
“What’s there to get to the bottom of? There was a fire. Simon died.”
Lizzie and Darcy exchanged confused looks. Lizzie proceeded carefully. “Jack told me that a lady entered the storehouse yesterday, and he believed that she started the fire. Did you see anything?”
“I didn’t see a woman, but Jack-o said something about her.”
“You didn’t see her? Not at all?”
“No.” The one-word response was sullen.
“Can you describe what happened right before the fire?” Lizzie asked.
Mr. Parry looked at Darcy, which made Lizzie want to roll her eyes, but she held herself in check.
“We aren’t questioning what you saw or didn’t, Mr. Parry,” Darcy assured him. “We are simply seeking information.”
“Jack-o didn’t say anything about hiring solicitors,” Parry grumbled, but seemed to relent. “We were goin’ over the invoices and bills of lading in the office. We thought we heard some creakin’ like footsteps, but there wasn’t supposed to be anyone there.”
“Were the doors locked?” Lizzie asked.