Page 46 of In Want of a Suspect
“So soon?” Lizzie sounded genuinely surprised, and Darcy was as well. He moved quickly.
“Time is money,” Jack said. “If I have nowhere to store the cloth, then I can’t arrange to sell it.”
“It sounds difficult,” Lizzie said, sounding sympathetic. “Have you had any trouble with your exporting business? Other clients have struggled with pirates in recent years.”
Jack waved away Lizzie’s worry. “Our ships are outfitted with carronades these days. I’m sorry, but have you investigated these ladies?”
Darcy watched Lizzie steel herself for the next part. “Yes, Jack. I have. And I’m afraid that they are quite shocked to hear of the fire and the suspicions. They are involved in relief efforts for the French émigrés in your neighborhood. But they say they’ve never been to your storehouse.”
“So that’s that? A dead end?”
“Not exactly.” Lizzie looked at Darcy, and he nodded. Sherefocused her gaze on Jack. “Jack, Leticia Cavendish was murdered yesterday.”
A long silence followed Lizzie’s words, and Darcy watched Mr. Mullins very carefully.
Liars tended to exaggerate their facial expressions or movements. They made a point of being shocked or devastated or made loud proclamations. But Jack Mullins did neither. His body went still, and his mouth fell open, although just slightly—his reaction was of surprise and confusion. “Are you serious?”
“Very.”
The stunned silence stretched out for a few beats longer and Darcy was surprised when the man began to tremble, and then when that trembling turned into disbelieving laughter. “Murdered? The prime suspect of my brother’s death was murdered?”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say she was theprimesuspect,” Lizzie corrected.
“But was she tall and brunette?” Jack demanded. “She could have been there.”
“She fits the description you gave, but I cannot emphasize enough that we have no evidence placing her there. Even if she were still alive, we could hardly bring her before a court of law without proof.”
“Is that her necklace?” Jack demanded. “Why did you ask me if I recognized it? Where did you find it? Do you suspect that I killed her?”
The thought had certainly crossed Darcy’s mind, but Lizzie shook her head adamantly. “I asked if you recognized it in caseyou might have a connection to her that you didn’t realize. The necklace wasn’t anywhere near your storehouse.”
“And what about the other lady? The French lady?”
“Miss Josette Beaufort,” Lizzie said. “She is quite distraught about Miss Cavendish’s death.”
Jack muttered something that sounded to Darcy like “Bloody French.”
Darcy was glad then that he was situated behind Mr. Mullins, for the thunderous thoughts that swirled in his head surely were showing on his face.Composure, he reminded himself. Even Lizzie looked aghast.
“Jack, I understand that you’re upset. Truly, I do. But you must understand my position. I cannot conjure up a suspect out of nothing. If you could comb through your memories for anything your brother might have said for any sort of motive or clue—”
“So it’s now my brother’s fault he died?”
“Jack, no, that’s not what I meant—”
“No, I think I understand.” Jack rose to his feet, and Lizzie and Darcy scrambled to follow. “I thought you could help, but if there is truly nothing you can do for me—”
“That’s not what I said! Leticia Cavendish was murdered, Jack. I don’t believe that is a coincidence! But I need your help to—”
“No need,” Mullins said. “This was a mistake. You may send me a bill for your time.”
Lizzie’s mouth dropped open. “Jack!”
“Good day, Miss Bennet. Mr. Darcy.”
And with that, Jack Mullins strode out of Lizzie’s office.
Lizzie wavered behind her desk, torn between running after him and staying put. “Let him go,” Darcy advised. “I don’t think you’ll be able to talk any sense into him.”