Page 45 of In Want of a Suspect
“That’s exactly why I need you to try—the stakes are too high.” Lizzie looked through the window of her office and said, “He’s here. Stay here; I’ll bring him back.”
Darcy watched her through the wavy glass that looked out into the main area of the office and tried to shake out any tension. Lizzie was far better at this aspect of their job than he—before meeting her it never would have occurred to him that he ought to affect various personas in an attempt to wring information from clients and witnesses. He approached every situationwith his normal, straightforward attitude, making no attempt to obfuscate or curry favor. But her methods had a strange way of yielding results. He hoped this time would be no different.
As Jack Mullins followed Lizzie back to the office, Darcy evaluated him. The last time Darcy had seen him, he’d been rain-soaked and frantic, but now he appeared solemn and well-dressed, in clothing that fit him nicely, which meant he had coin enough to have replaced his wardrobe already. His expression when greeting Charlotte had been polite but restrained, and now he wore a grave look as he followed Lizzie. Darcy suspected that under normal circumstances, the gentleman was likely a very cheerful fellow—he had that air about him. But the task of burying his brother and salvaging his burned-out business appeared to have worn him down.
“So grateful you could make the time for us today,” Lizzie said as she ushered Mr. Mullins into her office.
“Of course, I’m eager to hear your news.” He spotted Darcy in the corner, and confusion clouded his face. “Hello?”
“Oh, my apologies,” Lizzie said, sounding as if she’d forgotten Darcy was there. “This is my colleague Mr. Darcy. He often helps me out on cases, especially the more important ones.”
Darcy made the decision not to rise to greet Mr. Mullins, and instead nodded at him. “My condolences for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Mr. Mullins was clearly flustered by Darcy’s presence, but he tried to recover as Lizzie closed her office door and gestured to the empty seat opposite her desk. “I didn’t know you’d be bringing in someone else.”
“At no additional charge to you, I promise. Sometimes, for the very important cases, I like to have another set of eyes on things to ensure I miss nothing.”
Mr. Mullins appeared mollified, though Darcy wasn’t certain whether it was due to Lizzie’s reassurances or because she’d emphasized twice that his case was important. He sat, giving Darcy a single sidelong glance before looking back at Lizzie. “All right, then.”
“Excellent.” Lizzie sat down at her desk and made a show of shuffling a few notes, which Darcy knew was an act. She was the most organized person he’d ever met. She moved a pile of papers, revealing a gold and pink-topaz necklace. “Do you recognize this necklace?”
Darcy felt his eyes widen in surprise as he leaned forward, momentarily forgetting his role. That was Leticia’s necklace! He recalled she’d been wearing it the day they’d called. How had Lizzie gotten it?
“Er, no? Should I?” Mr. Mullins looked back at Darcy in confusion.
“Take a closer look,” Lizzie encouraged. “Go ahead.”
Baffled, Mr. Mullins leaned forward and took the necklace from her. He inspected it briefly, turning it about, and then handed it back. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it. What does it have to do with the fire?”
Lizzie didn’t answer him. “Jack, does the name Leticia Cavendish sound familiar to you?”
“Leticia Cavendish... no. I’m pretty certain I’ve never heardof her. Is she the lady who started the fire?”
“How about Josette Beaufort?”
That name gave Jack pause. “It does sound familiar. I’m not sure where I’ve heard it, though. She’s French?”
“Yes,” Lizzie confirmed.
“Is either of these women responsible for killing my brother?”
“I can’t say,” Lizzie said. “We’ve found no evidence of a tall, brunette lady who was in the vicinity of the storehouse on the day of the fire—”
“But this Miss Beaufort, and Miss Cav—Cavender?”
“Cavendish,” Darcy corrected, unable to help himself.
“Cavendish. Why are you asking me about them? Who are they?”
“Their names came up in the course of the investigation,” Lizzie confirmed. “But—and forgive me, Jack, because I know how much you want to find the person responsible—I cannot simply accuse someone without any evidence or even a motive. Why would a lady trespass upon your property and set fire to it?”
“I don’t know!” Jack’s fist came down on Lizzie’s desk with a sharp bang. Darcy nearly leapt to his feet but a stern look from Lizzie kept him in his seat. Jack seemed to realize he’d gone too far. “I’m sorry.”
Lizzie gave him one of her patient smiles, and if Darcy hadn’t been so suspicious of Mr. Mullins at this moment, it would have been entertaining to sit back and watch her work her charm.
“It’s all right, Jack. The thing is, we have very little to go on.If you don’t know why someone would want to set fire to your business, and you don’t recognize the names we’ve uncovered, I’m afraid I have run out of leads. Your foreman wouldn’t even let us into the building to inspect the damage.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Jack said. “The building surveyor said no one but workmen are allowed in or out until repairs can be made. They’ve been working on it, but the surveyor won’t be back for another week! As it is, I don’t know if it’ll be quick enough to receive our next shipment from the mills at the end of the month.”