Page 40 of Word of the Wicked (Murder in Moonlight #5)

“No,” Solomon said, holding her gaze once more.

“You will . Because that is the only agreement I will make with you, and I will find out. I can sympathize with your compulsion. But you were quite prepared to let Nell Dickie take the blame for your theft—while her frightened child was with her, too. There is no excuse for that. Nor for pushing Mrs. Silver down the stairs at the manor house, and I will prosecute you for that with great pleasure if you do not begin today returning your stolen goods. And if anyone in this village suffers an unexplained accident, everyone will know where to look.”

He rose abruptly because pity had dissolved once more into anger.

Miss Fernie opened her mouth to speak, but Solomon raised his hand. “Your opinion of Mrs. Silver does not matter to me. You do not know her. But know this —her compassion is all that prevented my bringing Constable Heron with me today and charging you with everything . Do you understand me?”

She was trembling, and he was not sorry for that either.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Then we have a bargain?”

“Yes.”

He nodded curtly. “Good,” he said, and left the house with a massive sense of relief.

*

For want of anything better to do, David punctuated reading Solomon’s books with sketching the view from the window, and remembered faces from his past. Then he read everything new on Solomon’s desk.

He didn’t understand all of it—much of it was to do with money and investments and ships—but his brother seemed to have fingers in many pies, and the amounts of money involved were incomprehensible.

What he did begin to comprehend was the strange, ordered, but lonely life his brother had led, especially since leaving Jamaica.

There was no correspondence from friends.

It was all business and charity boards, or invitations that were politely declined.

And amongst it all, reports from all over the world from people Solomon paid to look out for his brother and investigate all possible sightings.

Which might have been the inspiration behind the birth of Silver and Grey Inquiries with the enigmatic Constance.

David wasn’t quite sure what to make of her.

She wasn’t like any whore he had ever met, or like any wealthy lady who had occasionally brushed past him with her nose in the air.

Who was David to judge anyone’s past? Or present.

She looked out for Solomon and was helping David because of Solomon, and that was fine with him.

His brother’s face changed when he spoke of her, when he looked at her. Which, oddly, gave David hope for himself. In the time he had spent in this house, a new sense of freedom had begun to grow, in bizarre counterpoint to the knowledge that he was trapped indoors.

Reuniting with Solomon seemed to have freed him in a way his previous wanderings never had. He had money from the Jamaican estate. He could do something else. Whatever he liked. Perhaps even nothing, although that seemed dull.

But any future depended on his not being hanged for Chase’s murder. When would Solomon be back?

In abrupt need of fresh air, he stood up and clattered downstairs—then froze, for Jenks the manservant stood in the hall conversing with a middle-aged stranger who looked right at him.

Jenks turned in his usual unhurried manner and inclined his head respectfully. “Sir, Inspector Omand of the police has called.”

For an instant, David felt sick. It was all over.

And he didn’t want it to be. He had more than freedom now. He had his brother. And hope and life.

Pretending to be Solomon was an old skill. Pretending to be adult Solomon, a man he barely knew, was something else entirely. But in for a penny…

He forced his feet forward, using Solomon’s elegant saunter. And Solomon’s accent, which he had only practiced once in front of the mirror. “So he has. Good afternoon, inspector. What can I do for you?”

Inspector Omand had a kindly face, but David didn’t let that fool him. He also had extremely shrewd eyes.

The policeman took off his hat. “Sorry to interrupt on a Sunday, sir. I was just passing and thought you might like to know that we tracked Drayman down to a brothel that’s more than half rookery.”

“Then you have him?” David’s heart drummed with excitement. Was that it? Was he cleared?

Omand grimaced. “Sadly not. He bolted, taking his ill-gotten gains with him.”

“Damn.”

“Well, at least we know he’s guilty of something. And we can find him again. Just thought you’d like to know, but I won’t keep you. Good day, Mr. Grey.”

“Good day.”

Omand departed, and as Jenks closed the door behind him, David breathed a massive sigh of relief.

“Did I fool him?” David asked.

“You almost fooled me ,” Jenks replied.

But David’s brain had jumped back to Drayman on the Mary Anne —on shore, hiding from a set of ruffians. Catching his breath, he ran up to the front door and wrenched it open.

“Inspector!”

Omand, who was several yards away, swung back in surprise and, as David strode out, hurried back to meet him.

“Inspector, where exactly is that brothel you found him in?”

*

Constance and Solomon caught the evening train back to London. Dr. Chadwick accompanied them to the station and waved them off.

“Thank you,” he said ruefully. “I think.”

“Ogden’s a good man,” Constance replied. “And with Sophie, I believe he and the school will thrive. And you’ll still have her in the village with you.”

“That is a good point,” he allowed, and bowed over her hand. “And I do thank you. Goodbye, Mrs. Silver.”

Solomon handed her up onto the train and she walked forward. Through the window, she could see Solomon talking quickly to the doctor before they shook hands and he climbed aboard.

“What was that about?” she asked when they were seated side by side and alone, and the train was puffing noisily out of the station.

“I suggested both he and the vicar make Miss Mortimer understand her nephew’s habits are unacceptable. She is the only one who can influence his behavior, since she holds the purse strings.”

“I should have thought of that…”

“I also mentioned Miss Fernie. I don’t want her pushing anyone else downstairs.”

“Well, making her return the stolen items, which she will inevitably do as secretly as she took them, should keep her occupied for a while. I do think I was a bit of an exception for her. She can tolerate fallen women like poor, remorseful Mavis, but she’s never encountered a brazen jezebel before. ”

“Constance,” he said.

“What?”

“Shall we be married and go off on a wedding journey?”

“Haven’t we already agreed to that?”

“It’s a lady’s privilege to change her mind. Besides, I meant now. As soon as I receive the license. And find a house.”

“What if it needs work?”

“Then we’ll get someone to do the work while we’re away.”

She slid her hand into his. “That is a good idea.”

“I thought so.”

Weeks alone with Solomon, without anyone else’s problems and puzzles to think about… The idea was intoxicating. To enjoy his full, unadulterated attention—and to give him hers. She needed that. But…

“There is still the small matter of David and the murder of Herbert Chase.”

“We are almost there,” Solomon said.