Page 6 of Word of the Wicked (Murder in Moonlight #5)

Pitying his brother hurt. They had been born together in privilege, and so all Solomon had should be shared with him. And yet their lives had diverged in totally opposite directions. Again, he stuck to facts.

“I think the dead man is called Chase.”

David’s eyes widened and he sat down abruptly. “Chase… Yes! Herbert Chase?”

Solomon nodded, then sat opposite him, leaning forward. “When you were watching him in the Crown and Anchor, trying to work out who he was, was he speaking to someone else? Part of a large group or a small one?”

David frowned. “He was on his own…most of the time. A couple of people spoke to him—just in passing—but he didn’t really want to talk.

I had the impression he was waiting for someone.

” His eyes drifted. “Probably this one fellow I did see him with. He looked like a sailor. Sat at the same table and had a conversation.”

“A friendly conversation?”

David shrugged. “Hard to tell. Seemed serious, but didn’t last long.”

“Did you recognize this sailor?”

David shook his head. “Wasn’t really looking. It was him, Chase, who caught my attention.”

“Why?” Solomon asked. “What was it about him that held your attention?”

“I—I’m not sure… Wait!” David stared at him as though seeing something else entirely.

“He looked at his watch. That’s what made me think he was waiting for someone.

He took it out of his pocket in a secretive kind of way, and shoved it away again.

People don’t have watches in the Crown and Anchor, as a rule.

But also, it reminded me of something. Someone.

And he began to look familiar to me. I just couldn’t think why—until I saw him dead again. ”

“And did you notice this other sailor talking to him before or after you spoke to Chase?”

“Before.”

“Did the sailor stay in the Crown after they spoke?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember seeing him again. But I was a bit…drunk.”

Solomon let it go. “Thinking back to the previous time when you saw Chase, on the ship—how did you know he was dead?”

“Captain said so.” David’s eyes became unfocused again, and he rubbed them. “I think. A lot of things are still…hazy.”

“Then this happened before your illness? Before you lost your memory?”

David nodded.

“Do you have any idea when it was? What year or season?”

“Not really. I…I was working on the ship, so I must have been older than fourteen.” His gaze met Solomon’s. “That was when I escaped and got taken on the crew of a ship called the Curlew .”

“Was it on the Curlew you saw Chase attacked?”

“I don’t think so. There were a lot of ships in between, I’m sure. I didn’t like staying too long.”

He was afraid of being caught again. Dear God…

“I felt older when I saw Chase,” David added. Then he frowned. “Are you telling me Chase didn’t die on the ship?”

“He can’t have, can he?”

“I suppose not.” The idea seemed to please David, for he straightened, then scratched his head. “Then why? Why tell me he’s dead when he isn’t?”

“I don’t know yet. Unless it was something you just assumed without being informed?”

David shook his head. “No. The captain definitely told me. Everybody on board knew.”

“Then you’re right, there has to be a reason for that.”

“I might remember,” David said, more hope in his voice than Solomon had yet heard. “Things still come back to me that I’d forgotten. I thought I couldn’t always trust the memories, but perhaps I can.”

“The more you remember, the more we can investigate and find evidence that should help.” Solomon stood up.

“Just rest for the next couple of days. Make use of anything you find here, pictures, letters, books, maps. While we are away, our assistants will be looking into Chase, and any possible witnesses to the murder.”

An odd expression came to David’s face. “It doesn’t enter your head, does it? That I could be any flimflam man just taking advantage of our similar appearance.”

“No,” Solomon said simply.

He left the sitting room for the bedroom, where he fished out a leather bag and began to load into it soap, razors, a comb, and a few clothes suitable for any occasion he could think of.

He was in a hurry to leave, and yet part of him wanted to stay, to be with his brother, whom he didn’t know anymore.

Perhaps David felt the same strange conflict.

About to leave the room, his hand already on the door, Solomon caught sight of a wrapped box in the corner. He had been saving it to give to Constance when they finally found the house that would be their home. Only they’d had no time to really look.

They had been waiting for too much.

On impulse, he picked up the box and took it with him.

*

Constance, having made Janey’s day on the way home by informing her of the tasks she was to undertake in partnership with Lenny Knox, retreated to her own sitting room with a heap of post and the establishment’s account books.

This was mostly to stop herself worrying about things she could not control, such as how well Solomon and David were getting on together without her, and whether or not Solomon would want a bath when he arrived.

Or would he, after all, choose to stay with his brother, leaving her to go to Sutton May alone? She knew she was being selfish wishing for Solomon’s company.

She finished answering her letters and began noting down the welcome donations to the charitable side of her business which Solomon had helped her formalize and publicize before Christmas.

It was working wonders in enabling her to pay for apprenticeships and decent clothing and medical fees and so much more.

He arrived without warning, after the briefest of knocks which she answered without even looking up.

“Come in.”

As soon as he did, she knew. There was something about his very presence that seemed to make the air move. Even before the faint, unique smell of him teased her senses, she knew it was him.

He carried a large leather traveling bag and a box, both of which he set down on the floor to take off his coat and hat.

“Did no one show you up?” Constance asked in surprise.

“They pointed me at the stairs. I accepted the honor.”

“How did you find David?”

“Nervous, but trying to remember, almost as if he’s sorting dream from reality. He recognized Chase’s name, though he’s not quite sure when it was that he witnessed that shipboard fight.”

“Hopefully, it will come to him.”

“He also mentioned a watch that Chase looked at somewhat surreptitiously in the Crown and Anchor. Which makes me think it was valuable. It would be interesting to know if the watch was still on him when the body was found.”

“It would. Perhaps Lenny or Janey could find that out, too. Do you want a bath before we dine?”

He blinked. “A bath?” He appeared to think about it. “I’m not sure I have the energy. Even to eat.” He bent and lifted the box from the floor, carrying it across the room and placing it on the desk in front of her. “I bought you a present before Christmas.”

“You gave me presents at Christmas.” A ring to symbolize their betrothal, a silk shawl that was exactly the same color as her eyes. Personal gifts that touched her heart.

“This is different.”

Intrigued, she cut the ribbon that held the wrapping in place and opened the box.

Inside seemed to be a sea of tissue paper.

She fished her way in, coming up with a round object, from which she removed the tissue paper.

It was a delicate porcelain cup, so beautifully painted and unique that she recognized it at once.

“This is the tea set we saw in my mother’s shop!”

“I could see you liked it, so I went back and bought it. I meant to give you it when we settled on a house.”

“Oh, Solomon.” She turned to him, impulsively throwing her free arm around his neck. “That was so thoughtful, so… But we don’t have a house yet.”

“I know. But it came to me that we have been waiting too much.”

There was a deeper significance in his words that resonated with her. What truly mattered was not respectability or success. It was each other, being together, love.

She rested her forehead against his. “Thank you.”

For a moment, his arms closed around her and she let herself bask. But exhaustion radiated from him in waves. There were other gifts she could give him. She took his hand and led him through to the bedchamber.

“How would you like a picnic in bed?” she asked.

He sighed. “That sounds like heaven. If you join me.”

“I will.”

He drew her down on the bed beside him and kissed her. More than warmth and gratitude, excitement ignited. He began to unbutton his coat.

“Get into bed,” she said huskily. “I’ll arrange for our private feast.”

He was tugging off his necktie, his eyes glinting, as she tore herself away.

It was enough to keep desire humming through her as she went to the kitchen and collected a tray of tasty delicacies from Bibby.

Her heart beat hard, and she was smiling and breathless as she crossed the sitting room back to the bedchamber.

He had closed all the curtains and lit only a couple candles by the bedside. His clothes were in a neat pile on the chair in the corner. Solomon himself lay in bed, naked beneath the covers and sound asleep. Constance’s flimsy nightgown was clutched in his hand, half hidden beneath his cheek.

“Oh, Solomon,” she whispered.

He didn’t wake, even when she climbed into the bed beside him. So she sat close to him and ate by herself while he breathed beside her and radiated warmth and a strange kind of contentment.