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

S olomon, on his way to Scotland Yard, stopped to buy the latest edition of a newspaper, but found no mention of the body outside the Crown and Anchor.

Perhaps corpses at that particular establishment were so common that they did not constitute news.

But at least it meant there was no general hue and cry out for David.

He suspected it also meant that David was wrong about the identity of the dead man—the murder of a rich merchant outside a dockside public house being most definitely newsworthy.

But then, neither was David merely the happy-go-lucky sailor he had appeared on their first encounter.

He had been damaged by his past—a past Solomon’s mind kept trying to veer away from—and confused by his returning memories.

Which all meant there was much to discover in a short space of time.

Determined to go to Sutton May with Constance tomorrow, Solomon could not leave David or himself in quite so much ignorance while he did so.

He might have time to visit the Crown and Anchor, though he knew from experience that would be an exercise in interpreting silences and blatant lies.

He might also learn more from the local police station, but he had no friends there and was reluctant to force himself on their notice when the man they had sought last night was hiding in Solomon’s house.

An unofficial chat with the irritable but honorable Inspector Harris at Scotland Yard was his best start.

Unfortunately, neither Harris nor his amiable sergeant were available, being out upon inquiries and not expected back until the end of the day.

Another name sprang to mind. “What about Inspector Omand?”

He and Constance had met and indeed helped Omand to solve the murder of Frances Niall. An older, apparently plodding sort of a man, he had proved to be both insightful and decent. Unlike his underling, Constable Napier…

“Inspector Omand is in court, sir,” said the elderly constable on duty, clearly unused to visitors asking for acquaintances as though they were at a gentlemen’s club.

Solomon had some sympathy with that point of view. He toyed with the idea of inquiring of the man before him what he knew of the murder at the Crown and Anchor. Then the elderly constable’s eyes suddenly lightened.

“But here’s his constable who works with him on most cases. Here, Napier!”

Solomon felt his hackles rise even before Napier, the ambitious young constable who no doubt still despised him, turned and walked reluctantly back to the desk.

“This gentleman’s looking for Inspector Omand,” the older policeman said. “Perhaps you can help him? Constable Napier, sir. Napier, Mr.—”

“I know who he is,” Napier interrupted with as little respect as he had ever shown Omand, let alone Solomon. He flicked his gaze over Solomon and his lips spasmed with distaste. “What do you want?”

“It concerns a murder last night outside the Crown and Anchor,” Solomon replied, since there was no point in not asking.

Napier’s sneer was more pronounced now. “Come to confess, have you?”

“Not until I know who died, at least,” Solomon said pleasantly.

“I hear they’re looking for a black man. Where were you at eight o’clock last night?”

It was deliberately offensive, causing the desk policeman to say in shocked tones, “Here, lad, mind your manners!”

Solomon, not even surprised, said, “In my office at St. Catherine’s Dock with several of my senior employees. If you know nothing, please save us both valuable time by saying so.”

What Napier might have responded to that, Solomon never learned, for the elderly constable, clearly anxious to make up for Napier’s unforgivable rudeness, said suddenly, “The Crown and Anchor case? I heard it was a respectable gent in disguise, had cards in his pocket, by the name of…Chase. Had a few dealings on the wrong side of the law and a bit of dodgy trading, but there, shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.

” He eyed Napier’s scowl and smiled. “Herbert Chase. That’s your victim.

Knife in the heart, no weapon found. Case will come to someone here, but it won’t be to young Napier. ”

“Thank you for your help.” Solomon nodded to the elderly constable and walked away.

Uneasily, he wondered what David’s chances would be against such seething prejudice as Napier’s, without Solomon’s protections of wealth, respectability, and important allies.

*

Solomon returned to Silver and Grey’s offices mainly because he couldn’t make up his mind whether to go home or to Constance’s house.

Indecisiveness rattled him, for he was used to thinking clearly and quickly and reacting accordingly.

Today, bombarded by tiredness and emotion, nothing seemed clear except his desire to see Constance.

He found her in her own office, frowning over whatever she had been writing, but she greeted him with clear relief, jumping up and hurrying toward him.

“Solomon! What did you learn? Did you see Harris?”

“No,” Solomon said with a rueful twist of the lips. “But I did see Napier. Remember him?”

She grimaced. “Vividly. I can’t imagine he told you anything.”

“No, but in spite of him, I did learn that there really was a murder outside the Crown and Anchor, and the victim was one Herbert Chase, a respectable gentleman in disguise for some unknown purpose.”

“Which makes David’s story substantially true,” Constance said, tugging him by the hand and forcing him to sit down.

“You doubted it?”

Constance sat down beside him. “He’s a bit of a mess, Solomon.”

“Straws and camels’ backs,” he said vaguely, rubbing at his forehead and forcing his mind away from Constance’s beauty to the unpalatable problem. “You think he might have committed the murder? Both murders?”

“It’s what he is afraid of. He doesn’t trust himself or his memories.”

He stared at her. “Well, that would test our commitment to justice. Are we harboring a felon?”

“We’re harboring your long-lost brother, who is innocent until proven guilty.”

“But you don’t trust him,” Solomon said. “What did he say to you?”

“Nothing in particular. He needs time to adjust.”

“Would you let him near your girls?”

This was Constance’s acid test of a man’s very basic decency. If she sensed—or knew of—physical cruelty or violence, a man was not allowed to enter her establishment, whatever his wealth or rank in the world. She was more adept at reading a man’s character than anyone else he knew.

She hesitated, which caused his stomach to tighten. “I would say he’s not quite stable,” she said carefully. “And yet I sense less violence in him than I ever did in you. I think…from pity, I would allow him the comfort.”

Startled, Solomon said, “You think I am a violent man?”

“It’s there, under your ironclad self-control. David seems less so—unless he really is two people.”

Solomon threw his head back against the chair. “I can’t leave him alone with Jenks.”

“He would have no reason to hurt Jenks—whatever his character. This dead man, Chase, is presumably part of his past, so I suppose we shouldn’t rule out the possibility that David was involved in his death.”

With relief, Solomon turned back to facts.

“I went to the St. Catherine’s office, spoke to some of my people.

We’ve never had anything to do with Chase, but he is not unknown.

He began respectably enough and made some good money importing on a small scale.

More recently, he began to fall on hard times, and some of his business dealings are no longer quite so respectable. ”

“Which would explain his presence—in disguise—at the Crown and Anchor,” Constance said. “It would be helpful to know whom he was there to meet.”

“No one at the Crown and Anchor is going to tell us that. Nor who left the place with him. Our best chance is to find some passerby who might have seen someone running away.”

“Someone who was not David,” Constance said. “He did say someone else was being chased, too.” She smoothed her hand over her skirts, a betraying gesture of unusual uncertainty. “Do you want to stay here tomorrow to pursue this?”

“Actually, I thought we might ask Lenny Knox to investigate Chase’s place of business. And he and Janey could look around for witnesses. We do have an appointment tomorrow, though I’m hoping we can wrap up the matter of those letters without too much difficulty.”

Her hand stilled on her gown. Somehow, her face lightened. She wanted him to be with her, which warmed him. How had he come to doubt this?

“In the meantime,” he added, “David might have remembered more for us to mull over. I’ll speak to him again tonight.”

“You only have one bedchamber,” Constance pointed out. “Why don’t you collect your things for traveling, and stay with me tonight?”

She was not even sure he would say yes. In guilty wonder—had he been cold or thoughtless in his behavior to her?—he touched her cheek and her lips.

“I would like that,” he said huskily. God, I would…

She turned her face into his hand in a quick caress. “Then go home, Solomon, and fetch what you need. You’re dead on your feet. I’ll speak to Janey and write instructions for her and Lenny.”

*

Jenks looked slightly surprised to see him.

No wonder, since he must imagine the man upstairs to be his master.

Solomon almost gave in to the urge to tell him the truth, but it was important that Jenks should not be knowingly involved with harboring a fugitive.

As long as the butler did not see them together, he should be safe.

Hurrying upstairs, he found David standing in the middle of the sitting room floor, staring at the door as though wondering whether or not to rush out.

Solomon shut the door. “It’s only me,” he said lightly. “I’ve come back for a few things. Are you comfortable here?”

The question seemed to take David by surprise. “Yes,” he said after a distinct pause. “He doesn’t bother me—the man downstairs. Jenks? Mrs. Silver told him to let me rest and just leave my meals on the table.”