Read In the Barrister's Chambers Online

Authors: Tina Gabrielle

In the Barrister's Chambers (7 page)

BOOK: In the Barrister's Chambers
5.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Shock ran through Evelyn at Jack's comment, and she bit her lip. She recalled the promise Jack had her make, that if she were approached she would claim to be Jack's woman. She had assumed he meant his
wife,
but looking at her surroundings she realized that was never his intent—for no decent man would bring his spouse here.
They sat, and a buxom barmaid sidled over to Jack. The woman gave Jack a sly look, her greedy eyes raking his chiseled profile and broad shoulders. The shadow of his beard only added to his rugged, masculine appeal.
Jack did nothing to discourage the woman; rather he gave her a lazy wink and sent her off with a smile.
A streak of annoyance passed through Evelyn at how easily Jack could charm the female sex. Barmaids, librarians, courthouse clerks, and even high-born ladies—Jack seemed to know how to make them all respond with very little effort.
The barmaid returned with two tankards. Bending over more than necessary to place the ale before Jack, she displayed a huge amount of bosom for his view before walking away.
Just then, the door swung open and two men stepped inside, bringing with them a blast of wind.
Evelyn's tankard halted halfway to her mouth. “It's Randolph and Simon,” she said to Jack.
Jack rested his hand on hers, staying her when she made to rise. “Do not draw attention to yourself. Let them come to us.”
Chapter 10
Jack eyed the two men at the door. One was of medium height and dark-haired, the other was slightly taller with sandy-colored hair and round spectacles. Jack assumed the darker male was Simon Guthrie and the blonde was Randolph Sheldon as Evelyn had described them. Simon was the first to spot Evelyn in the corner. With a jerk of his head to his friend, the pair made their way to the back of the tavern and took seats at the table.
“Randolph!” Evelyn cried out. “I've been so worried.”
Randolph Sheldon reached across the table and clasped her hand in both of his. “Evelyn, darling. Please forgive me.” His blue eyes watered behind his spectacles, and his fair hair stood on end as if he had repeatedly run his fingers through it in angst. He wore a wrinkled coat with a limp shirt beneath, and his complexion resembled a dish of warm gruel.
Randolph raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them.
Jack grit his teeth, and a vicious thought popped into his head:
He does not deserve her.
“Oh, Randolph,” Evelyn sighed. “Are you well?”
“As well as can be expected. I never wanted this for you, Evelyn.”
“Nonsense, Randolph,” Evelyn admonished, her blue eyes gentle, understanding. “You did not bring this upon yourself. The murderer did.”
At the mention of the crime, a painful expression crossed Randolph's countenance. He glanced nervously at Jack.
Evelyn looked at Jack, then at Randolph. “This is Mr. Harding. He has agreed to represent you.”
“Simon told me about Mr. Harding,” Randolph said. “But I don't know if it's necessary for—”
“Mr. Harding is extremely accomplished, Randolph,” Evelyn said. “We are fortunate to have him.”
Randolph still looked uncertain, and Jack spoke up before Evelyn had the chance. “Mr. Sheldon, if Bow Street is looking for you, then it's only a matter of time until they find you. Do not be fooled by their intentions. Bess Whitfield was a popular actress, and the head magistrate is under a considerable amount of pressure to make an arrest. The people
expect
a conviction. And from what I understand, the evidence against you is sufficient to give them what they want—whether you are innocent or not.”
Randolph's eyes widened behind his spectacles. He looked young and scholarly, the type of man Jack expected Evelyn to be drawn to.
He is just a boy; what she needs is a man.
Jack's gut twisted at his bitter thoughts. He knew Randolph Sheldon was not a boy, but was twenty-two, the same age as Evelyn.
“They have made up their minds then. They think I killed Bess,” Randolph said in a choked voice.
At the common usage of the actress's first name, Evelyn's hand fluttered to her chest. “You never explained the extent of your acquaintance with Bess Whitfield in the past.”
“She was my uncle's daughter from his first wife. We were close as children, but then her mother died and my uncle remarried and they moved away. She wrote over the years, but it wasn't until she returned to London to take to the stage that we frequently saw each other again. My uncle died, you see, and I was her only living relative. She . . . she relied on me.”
“Why did you not tell me?” Evelyn asked.
Randolph reached out to touch Evelyn's shoulder.
Jack wrestled with the urge to slap away Randolph's wayward hand.
“I wanted to, Evelyn,” Randolph said. “But it was Bess who asked me not to. She was worried it would affect my chances at the university. She knew that I depended on my Fellowship with your father and that I had plans to one day become a professor myself. Bess was concerned her ‘reputation' would hurt my advancement.”
Evelyn frowned. “Her reputation?”
Randolph's face turned a mottled shade of red.
Simon came to his friend's aid. “Bess was known for her performances offstage just as much as those at the Drury Lane Theatre.”
Bewilderment flashed across Evelyn's face. “Whatever do you mean?”
All three men looked at her.
Simon squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. Intelligent brown eyes glanced at her, then lowered, then looked at her again. “Bess Whitfield had many lovers. Some were men of influence and wealth while others were mere musicians and stagehands. Rampant rumors existed speculating that Bess's drove of lovers were the reason she had advanced in the theater so quickly. It's rare for a country girl to become a famous actress almost overnight at one of London's most popular theaters.”
Evelyn cast her mind back and the image of Bess Whitfield focused in her memory. Evelyn had seen Bess on stage two years ago during the opening night of the newly rebuilt Drury Lane Theatre's production of William Shakespeare's tragedy
Hamlet.
Bess had played the role of Gertrude, King Hamlet's widow and the mother of Prince Hamlet, who marries Claudius, her husband's brother and murderer who succeeds to the throne. Bess had been a beautiful woman, but it was her charisma and provocative allure that had captured the audience. Evelyn would never forget the pivotal moment when Gertrude drank a cup of poison intended for Hamlet by Claudius. She had fallen to the floor, moaning in agony and reaching out for her son. The applause for Bess at the end of the performance had rivaled that of the lead actor, Robert Elliston.
Evelyn had heard competition for leading roles was fierce, but she had never suspected Bess Whitfield's performance
off
stage had aided her career.
Evelyn blinked, then focused her gaze on Randolph. “And you knew this about Miss Whitfield?”
“It's true, but that's not the side of Bess I knew. We were related, Evelyn, and we shared nothing but kinship.”
Evelyn covered his hand resting on her shoulder. “I believe you, Randolph.”
She coddles him like a helpless babe,
Jack thought. Randolph could very well be guilty, an accomplished actor. Jack had seen it before; men so adept at lying, they could fool their own mothers while committing heinous crimes beneath the roofs they shared.
“Tell me what happened the night she was murdered,” Jack said.
Randolph dropped his hand from Evelyn's shoulder, and his gaze snapped to Jack. “I was at the university library that night when a note was delivered. It was from Bess saying that she wanted to see me. She requested I come to her London lodgings. She said it was urgent, that there was something she had to give me. An item of great importance.”
Randolph's hands twisted on the table. “I went right away. Bess rented the second floor of a four-story building. When I arrived on her doorstep, I knocked, but there was no answer. Then I noticed the door was ajar, and I let myself inside. I stood in the vestibule and called her name, but no one was about. The housekeeper was nowhere to be seen, and I later learned that she had left for the night. As I looked about, I heard a loud thump from upstairs. Concerned that Bess had fallen, I rushed upstairs. I found Bess in her bedchamber. She was . . . she was lying on the floor. She had been stabbed numerous times and there was blood . . . blood everywhere. On the rug, the walls, the furniture. I knelt down and held her in the crook of my arm, hoping to find her still breathing, but her life blood soaked through my shirt. She was already gone.”
Randolph swallowed and ran his hand through his hair. “That was when I heard a man shout out. When I realized it was the constable, I . . . I panicked. The window was already open, and I jumped out and climbed down the trellis. The neighbor must have heard Bess's screams and summoned the constable. Looking back, the murderer must have still been in the house when I entered. He must have made the noise I had heard and escaped through the window moments before I had come upstairs.”
“It's unusual for me to take on a client that is in hiding,” Jack said. “If Bow Street comes to me, I have an ethical duty as a barrister not to present perjurous testimony. You should turn yourself in for questioning.”
“No!” Simon and Randolph said in unison.
“You said yourself Bess Whitfield was popular with the people and Bow Street is under pressure to make an arrest,” Randolph pointed out.
“Yes, but hiding is not aiding your cause. To the contrary, it makes you appear guilty. Eventually they will find you. If you return, I can be present when you are questioned and officially request to be kept informed of the outcome of any investigation.”
“There is another option,” Simon said as he withdrew a paper from his jacket pocket. Leaning forward across the table, he lowered his voice. “We have compiled a list of suspects. People that had both motive and opportunity to kill Bess Whitfield. We could investigate them ourselves while Randolph is in hiding.”
“Yes,” Evelyn said. “Mr. Harding and I can help look into them.” Her face held an eager excitement like a puppy thrown its first meaty bone.
“Evelyn,” Jack said, a silken thread of warning in his voice.
Evelyn spun toward Randolph. “You said Miss Whitfield wanted to give you ‘an item of great importance.' What was it?”
Randolph shrugged. “I don't know, but I suspect the murderer was searching for the item when my arrival interrupted him.”
“How do you know that?” Jack asked.
“Bess's bedroom was a mess. The bed had been torn asunder, the mattress sliced down the center. Furniture had been turned over, curtains had been pulled off their rods and vases had been shattered. The two cushioned chairs in the room had been slashed, and horsehair was scattered all over the carpet.”
Jack's breath froze in his lungs. It was not every day that the description of a crime scene stunned him, but
this
crime scene, the way the room had been ransacked, was eerily similar to the way Emmanuel Darlington's library had been ripped apart days ago.
Jack had experienced a wary feeling in his gut then, had felt the crime had been somehow related to Randolph's problems. The inexperienced constable hadn't agreed and had called it a common burglary. But Jack had learned never to ignore his instincts—they had never failed him in the past. Now he had more than instinct to go on; he had coincidence. The two crimes were related; he felt it down to the marrow of his bones.
Whatever Bess Whitfield had planned on giving Randolph Sheldon was something that also involved the Darlingtons.
But what could it be?
Only one thing was certain: Evelyn and her father were in danger.
The constable would be of no assistance. Bow Street would turn a blind eye between the two crimes and would dismiss Jack's concerns. Rather, they would eagerly arrest Randolph and not look further for the true criminal. And once Randolph was arrested, Jack's time to search for the murderer was severely limited. Justice was swift. Within days after an arrest, a grand jury would find sufficient evidence to issue an indictment, and a trial at the Old Bailey would begin immediately thereafter. He had seen it time and again. The Crown's prosecution would be content with an easy conviction; it didn't necessarily have to be the right man.
Jack's gaze snapped to the list in Simon's hand. He had the resources to investigate the names. His fellow barristers and friends could aid him. They could find the killer, find whatever Bess had hid and had died for.
Only then would Evelyn and her father truly be safe.
Yes, she would be safe to live her life as planned with Randolph Sheldon at her side....
Evelyn took the list from Simon and scanned its contents. “I know some of these people. I could look into them.”
The corner of Jack's mouth twisted with exasperation.
She needs a firm hand. A man worthy of her mettle.
Jack scowled at his thoughts.
Don't be daft! Evelyn Darlington has made her choice.
Jack turned his attention back to Randolph. “Do you still have the shirt?”
“The shirt?” Randolph asked.
“Yes. The shirt that was soaked in Bess's blood. Do you still have it?”
“I . . . I suppose so. I've been hiding at Bess's home in Shoreditch. I stowed it there. Why?”
“I'll need to examine it.”
“All right.”
“Does that mean you'll agree to help?” Evelyn's face lit with hope.
Jack plucked the list out of Evelyn's hand. “I'll agree to look into the names.” He eyed Randolph. “I'll be in touch. Meanwhile, try to stay out of trouble and out of sight.”
BOOK: In the Barrister's Chambers
5.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Pouncing on Murder by Laurie Cass
Bargains and Betrayals by Shannon Delany
CHERUB: Mad Dogs by Robert Muchamore
Caribbean Casanova by Bayley-Burke, Jenna
Dark Demon by Christine Feehan