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“But why?” Griselda turned a puzzled frown on the others.

“As to that,” Jordan said, “courtesy of the argument Bobby and this Gibson were having, and them not seeing me or Ruth until Ruth attracted their attention, I learned that Bobby had an ongoing disagreement with Thomas about funds, and Gibson, it seems, had an even more fraught relationship with Thomas, also, it seems, primarily about money.”

Penelope was intrigued. “The plot has certainly thickened.”

The door opened, and Mostyn appeared, his expression a question Penelope could easily read.

“Thank you, Mostyn.” She rose, bringing the others to their feet.

“We’ll come through now.” To Jordan, she said, “Please join us for dinner. I’m sure Roscoe and Miranda can spare you for the evening, and it’s our habit to share information, then set it aside while we dine, before returning here, to the drawing room, to reevaluate the situation once any new insights have had a chance to sink in. ”

“And digest, as it were.” Stokes regarded Jordan. “If Roscoe’s delegated you to be his eyes and ears in this, best you stay and help us make sense of your recent discoveries.”

Obviously curious as to their investigative process, Jordan readily consented to join them in the dining room.

As per their stated habit, they eschewed all mention of the Cardwell case and spoke more generally, including sharing views on the recent opening of the Manchester and Leeds Railway, the first railway to cross the Pennines.

Having recently traveled by railway on Roscoe’s business, Jordan had much to contribute.

Penelope suspected that, having lived for so long in Roscoe and Miranda’s household, Jordan was accustomed to conversation of the style generally found about her dinner table.

Indeed, judging by the ease with which he relaxed and became one with the company, it was clear he found their ways familiar.

Once dessert was consumed and the plates cleared, she rose and led the company back to the drawing room.

They settled in the chairs they’d occupied earlier, and Stokes opened the discussion with “I believe we can dismiss any notion of Hemingways’ Linens being the source of Cardwell’s nefarious activities.”

Penelope told Griselda, “The Hemingways themselves run the business, and they seemed distinctly upright men.”

“In addition,” Barnaby put in, “from Penelope’s subsequent inquiries and the extent of their customer list, they’ve worked hard to gain a reputation it would be folly to put at risk.”

“Indeed.” Stokes looked at Jordan. “So what can we deduce from your latest discoveries?”

“First,” Jordan said, “it occurs to me that if Cardwell was killed because of something he discovered via, in whatever way, one of his client’s accounts, then as, in actual fact, Ruth kept the accounts, should the client responsible for Cardwell’s murder learn of her involvement, she might be in danger as well. ”

Stokes was slowly nodding. “That’s certainly possible.” He scribbled a line in his notebook. “Until we have this murderer by the heels, I’ll station a man in the park opposite the house to keep an eye on the place and on her when she ventures forth.”

Penelope noted the relief that flitted through Jordan’s eyes.

“As for what I learned of the brothers,” Jordan continued, “I feel fairly certain the ‘something’ that we all sensed the three Cardwells—Ruth, Bobby, and Mrs. Cardwell—were hiding was Gibson’s existence.”

“Hardly surprising,” Stokes said, “given he was in active disputation with Thomas.”

“More,” Barnaby said, “that they so carefully avoided mentioning Gibson Cardwell suggests that they are not certain that Gibson didn’t have something to do with Thomas’s death.”

Penelope mused, “They might not see Gibson as his brother’s murderer, but them avoiding all mention of him does suggest that, at the very least, they’re wondering if someone connected with Gibson—a creditor, perhaps—might be involved.”

Griselda widened her eyes. “You think Gibson might indirectly have caused Thomas to be murdered?”

Barnaby replied, “That seems to be one possibility.”

“And,” Stokes said, “from what Jordan heard, it appears that the younger brother, Bobby, might also have had reason to wish Thomas ill.” He looked at Jordan, then glanced at Penelope and Barnaby.

“I believe our next step should be to formally interview Gibson Cardwell and Bobby Cardwell, separately, at Scotland Yard and see what we can shake from them.”

“At the very least,” Penelope stated, “they each need to explain the basis of their disagreement with Thomas.”

“We also need to get a better understanding of the family finances.” Barnaby met Stokes’s gaze. “Given the facts we’ve assembled thus far, despite Thomas’s letter to Roscoe, it’s perfectly possible that Thomas Cardwell’s murder is purely a family affair.”

Penelope grimaced. “A family argument that went too far and got out of hand.”

Stokes had been checking his notebook. “There’s nothing to say that our unknown gentleman—the one we believe killed Thomas—wasn’t Gibson Cardwell, and Bobby Cardwell, perhaps understandably, is keeping his mouth shut about his older brother being the killer.”

Jordan offered, “After speaking with the siblings this afternoon, I came away with the impression that of the three brothers, Gibson is the profligate, Thomas was the serious one, and Bobby…isn’t yet sure which of his older brothers he wants to emulate.”

Penelope nodded. “Bobby did strike me as being somewhat immature.”

“All right,” Stokes said. “We’ll get both brothers in, but ensure they remain separate. We’ll fetch Bobby from Finsbury Circus, and Gibson from…” He looked inquiringly at Jordan.

Jordan smiled, the gesture sharp. “Number fifteen B, Falcon Street. He shares a flat with two friends.”

Smiling, Stokes looked down and scribbled the address. “We’ll make an investigator of you yet.”

Jordan softly grunted.

Stokes sat up and tucked away his notebook, then looked at Barnaby, Penelope, and Jordan.

“Shall we say nine o’clock tomorrow morning at the Yard?

That’ll give my men enough time to roust the pair out of their beds and to the Yard and allow a little time for them to stew in one of the interview rooms.”

Barnaby and Penelope readily agreed, then with Stokes and Griselda, looked at Jordan.

He grimaced. “I do work for someone else. I’ll report to Roscoe and see what he says. If he wants me to remain on the case—and I’m fairly certain he will—I’ll meet you tomorrow at the Yard.” He looked at Stokes. “Just please remember to tell the desk sergeant to let me past his gate.”

The others laughed, and Stokes assured Jordan his welcome at Scotland Yard was guaranteed.

“In a way, that’s what I’m afraid of,” Jordan replied, making the others laugh even more.