A Death Along the River Fleet (18 page)

Miss Belasysse started to tremble. “It is not my brother. Praise the Lord. I do not know this man.” She turned away.

Lucy saw the constable exchange a glance with Mr. Sheridan.
Of course,
she realized then. Mr. Sheridan had already known that it was not Henry Belasysse, having known the man as a friend of the family. She did not think they would have compelled Miss Belasysse to look at the dead man otherwise.

“Please,” Lucy said, touching the woman's arm. “Look more carefully this time. Are you certain that you do not recognize him?”

Miss Belasysse stood up and looked down at the man. “I tell you, I do not recognize this man.” The faintest look of revulsion crossed her features. “How did he die?”

“Stabbed,” Constable Duncan said, studying the woman's face. “Once in his back. And several times on his chest. The fatal blow was through his heart.”

“How shocking,” Miss Belasysse said, her eyes widening. Lucy saw her glance down at her bandaged hands before she clasped them together. Duncan also noticed the gesture.

Miss Belasysse turned back to Dr. Larimer. “Please, I feel rather unwell. I should like to return to my chamber now.”

“Allow me,” Mr. Sheridan said, extending his arm to her, then leading her out of the room.

“A bad business, to be sure,” Dr. Larimer said to the constable. “What do you make of it?”

Duncan glanced at Lucy. “I do not believe her to be innocent in this man's death,” he said. “There is something about her manner that suggests guilt.”

“But she denied knowing him,” Lucy said.

“Such denial means little, I should say,” the constable replied. “She most certainly would not be the first person to lie about a crime she committed. Moreover, even if in truth she does not recognize him, that certainly does not prove her innocence in this man's death.”

Lucy frowned but did not say anything more.

“I think many would feel affronted by the idea that the daughter of a baron would have committed murder,” Dr. Larimer stated. Then he added, “I myself have come to believe that the murderer's ilk defies categorization by wealth or standing.”

“What do you think, Lucy?” the constable asked. “Do you believe in your charge's innocence? I know you saw her rub the cuts on her hands when we discussed this dead man's knife wounds.”

“I do not know,” she admitted. “Could it be that the man attacked her, and she sought to defend herself?”

“By wresting the man's knife from his hands?” Duncan asked. “Could that be so?”

“Or she did this without knowing what she did?” Lucy said. Even to her own ears, her suggestion sounded weak.

Dr. Larimer shook his head. “You have seen her in a fit, Lucy. She is not sensible, which I can say with certainty. But she could not even walk of her own volition or drink a cup of water when a fit is on her.” He sighed. “No, if she did brandish a knife in the manner we are purporting, then I think she would have been in possession of her senses.”

The constable nodded. “The Lord Mayor is pressing me for action. I think he would be happy enough, with the evidence that is suggested by Miss Belasysse's demeanor, to place her under arrest.”

“Oh, no!” Lucy protested. Even though Newgate had burnt down in the Great Fire, she could not bear the thought of Miss Belasysse being cast into jail. Her own brother had stood trial for murder a few years back, and the whole experience had been quite terrifying.

Constable Duncan shifted uncomfortably back and forth on his feet. “Her actions are questionable, surely you must agree.”

“Please,” Lucy said. “She is not well. You saw it yourself. Her fits.”

The physician nodded. “I am rather afraid that if left unattended, the poor woman would die of the falling sickness in that terrible place. You would be condemning her to death, just by placing her under arrest, even before she came to trial.”

“She is the daughter of a baron,” Mr. Sheridan said, walking back into the room. Evidently he had caught the end of their conversation. “That has been confirmed. As such, we must treat her with the respect due her station.”

Duncan clenched his jaw. Lucy could tell he was not happy with the direction the conversation had taken. “If she did commit this crime, she should stand trial, not be pardoned like her brother was. Yes,” he added, seeing Lucy's surprised look. “I remember her brother's case well. Henry Belasysse was pardoned for the murder of a tanner, without even standing trial. It is not my inclination to protect criminals.”

Lucy swallowed. He was well within his rights to arrest the poor creature upstairs. The law was most certainly in agreement that it was up to the accused to plead their innocence, and right now things looked quite bleak for the woman.

But before Lucy could say anything, Duncan spoke again. “However, I should like to speak to her uncle and mother again. Something of their explanation sorely bothers me, and I should like to discuss these matters with them further.” Then he frowned. “It is unlikely that her ladyship will receive me.”

That was certainly so. He could hardly knock on Lady Belasysse's door and question the noblewoman about her earlier statements. He might not even be allowed to set foot inside their residence.

“Sir, your wife did invite them to partake in your Easter dinner on Sunday,” Lucy said, looking over at Dr. Larimer.

The physician rubbed his chin. “That is so,” he said.

“I thought that the constable might be on hand,” Lucy said to Dr. Larimer, “when the Belasysses return, sir.”

Mr. Sheridan made a funny sound in his throat. “I do not think that Lady Belasysse would be all that inclined to dine with a constable.” He looked back at Duncan. “No disrespect of course, Constable Duncan,” he said in his snide way.

“None taken, of course,” Duncan replied easily.

“Very good, Constable. I cannot have you interrogating her while we dine, naturally, but I shall tell Mrs. Hotchkiss to set you a meal in the kitchen.” Dr. Larimer looked at Lucy. “Is there something else?”

Lucy wanted to be on hand when the Belasysses returned to the physician's household. In a rush she continued. “Indeed, I was going to ask you, Dr. Larimer, if my brother, Will, and I might be here for dinner? In the kitchen, of course. Master Hargrave always gave his servants the day off on Easter, but I thought since I am tending Miss Belasysse, you should not like me to be very far away.”

Mrs. Larimer walked in then, apparently catching only the last bit of Lucy's comment. “My heavens! Master Hargrave releases his servants from their duties on Easter?” She clapped her hands together. “However does the poor man fare? With a bit of cold mutton, I suppose. No, we shall invite him here. Herbert, send dear Thomas a note first thing.”

“I will, my dear,” Dr. Larimer replied. “A splendid suggestion, to be sure. I should very much enjoy seeing Thomas for Easter dinner.”

“Oh, I must speak with Mrs. Hotchkiss,” Mrs. Larimer exclaimed. She was about to walk out of the room when she stopped abruptly as though an idea had struck her mid-step. “Dear Lucy,” she said turning around, “certainly you may join us. Your brother, too, if you like.”

“Why, thank you, mistress,” Lucy said, pleased and a bit stunned by the unexpected invitation. Constable Duncan gave her a quick smile, as though he understood the honor she had been bestowed.

“Not at all,” Mrs. Larimer said, waving her hand. “I was hoping that you might be on hand to help serve. I remember that Master Hargrave always thought so highly of you, and I know that you were not one to spill or make waste. Then you may enjoy your meal with your brother at your leisure, once our meal has cleared. We should not need you very much after that. You may ask Molly for an extra apron. Unless, of course, you thought to bring one of your own?”

“Oh,” Lucy said, feeling her cheeks warm a bit. Of course, as Miss Belasysse's nurse, she was not being asked to join the family for Easter dinner. Indeed, she had not expected such a thing. But even less had she expected to serve the family's meals. She did not quite know what to say. The cut from the slight was keen.

Not realizing what had just transpired, Dr. Larimer rubbed his hands together. “Just so, just so. We shall have a splendid dinner, I should think.”

When the men resumed talking and Mrs. Larimer left, Lucy slipped out of the house and sat down on the bench under the old tree. Unshed tears stung her eyes.

The sound of a twig breaking behind her made her look up. Duncan was looking at her, a bit ruefully. “Thank you for inviting me to Easter dinner,” he said. “That was quick thinking. I agree, it will be good for me to be on hand, should the Belasysses say anything of interest.”

“So you can listen at the door, and with any luck, they will say something while I lay the ham before them,” she said, trying to sound more merry than she felt. But it was hard to keep the bitter tone from her voice, and it seemed Duncan heard it, for he swiveled back to look at her.

“Something like that,” he said, searching her face. Though he grinned at her, she could see the puzzled look in his eyes. “Lucy—” He hesitated. “Had you expected to be invited to dine with the family? When Lady Belasysse—Lady Belasysse!—is to be the guest of honor?”

Lucy shrugged and looked away. “Sometimes Master Hargrave would dine with us,” she said.

“But in the kitchen, is that not so?”

When she didn't answer, he continued. “I beg you to give them no mind. You are worth ten of them, there is no doubt of that.” He began to walk across the courtyard, to exit through the metal gates to the path that led back to the street.

Before he left, he said, “And no matter what, I am very glad to take a meal with you and your brother. It is an occasion I will look very much forward to.”

For a moment she smiled, before his next words chilled her. “After all, we may very well find the evidence we need to arrest Miss Belasysse for murder.”

 

14

“Molly, deliver this note to the Hargraves, if you would,” Lucy overheard Dr. Larimer tell his servant the next morning. They were in the kitchen, and Lucy was preparing a hot drink for Miss Belasysse. She assumed this was the invitation for the Hargraves to dine with them on Easter.

“After I am done with my slops?” Molly asked. “Mrs. Hotchkiss will be after me for certain. And my chopping?” She gestured to some potatoes. “Then after that I've got my pots, and Mrs. Hotchkiss says—”

They would never know what Mrs. Hotchkiss would say, for Dr. Larimer held up his hand. “Fine. Please take care of your more pressing tasks. We should not like to disturb Mrs. Hotchkiss. Within a half hour's time, if you would.”

Seizing the opportunity, Lucy scrawled a note for Adam, hoping that he would not have to report to the Fire Court on a Saturday morning. She did not write too many other details for fear of it landing in the wrong hands, but she did explain that she needed to speak with him about an important matter. Duncan's last words before he left the night before had disturbed Lucy more than she wished to admit. She pressed the note into Molly's hand before she left for the Hargraves' home. “For Adam Hargrave, you understand?”

*   *   *

About an hour later, Molly came to her. “Mr. Hargrave came back with me. I settled him in the drawing room.” That the servant had done so suggested a stature for Lucy that was unexpected. For a wild moment, she thought to tell the girl that she could not receive visitors in such a way. Instead, she swallowed and replied, “Thank you, Molly.”

When Lucy entered the drawing room, Adam stood up. He kissed her on the cheek and drew her to two chairs embroidered in an exotic style that Molly had told her was called “Turkey work.” Dr. Larimer had just bought these chairs from a furniture dealer with ties to the East.

“Lucy,” Adam said, his dark blue eyes searching her face. He pulled out the note she had written that morning from a pocket inside his coat. “Tell me the meaning of this. It sounds urgent.”

“It is.” Taking a deep breath, she then explained that the constable wished to arrest Miss Belasysse for murder. “I am quite concerned about her, you see. As one who suffers from the falling sickness she might not survive should she be imprisoned.”

“Yes, I imagine that to be so.” Like Lucy, he had seen inside the Newgate prison firsthand, and other jails, too, she suspected. He knew the atrocities and fatal indifference that would await this woman before trial. “The law presumes guilt, not innocence, Lucy.” Adam stood up and began to walk around. She had seen him do this before when he was trying to puzzle through a problem. His father did the same thing. “I am afraid that, other than being the alleged daughter of a baron, this woman has very little in her favor, and everything against it. The blood on her, the cuts on her hands—all suggest that she had wielded a knife. Then a man's body, full of stab wounds, turns up in the same area where she was discovered, witless—” He sighed. “It is not surprising to me that Duncan is suspicious of her. Lucy, does she deserve your goodwill?”

“I do not know, Adam. Someone claiming to be her husband followed us the other afternoon. Said her name was Erica Nabur. He knew all about her problems with memory. Said she frequently wandered off, which I suppose she has done in the past, according to her family. He tried to get her to leave with him. I think that is rather suspicious, too.”

“Someone came after you?” Adam asked, tensing. “Why did you not tell me this straightaway?”

“Well, I am telling you now,” Lucy replied, pressing her hands together. “I did not think to tell you—we were quite unharmed, you see.”

She thought she would leave out the part where the man grabbed Miss Belasysse's arm and Lucy laid into him, kicking and punching. Adam most certainly would not like to hear about that, and she hated to trouble him further. “Besides, we told Constable Duncan directly after it happened.”