Page 60 of Speculations in Sin

The business with the keys showed that the murder of Mr. Stockley was carefully planned. The police might think it a quarrel between Sam and Mr. Stockley, with Sam striking out in rage, but the more I learned, the more likely it was deliberate and premeditated.

Whoever had done it had tried their best to throw suspiciononto Sam. That meant this person had watched Sam and Mr. Stockley interact, had noted where they’d gone, had known what they were conferring about. I supposed that whoever was embezzling from Daalman’s had realized he was about to be discovered and had chosen Sam to put his hands up for all of it.

It made me quite furious. I’d find this embezzling, murderous plotter and let Inspector McGregor squash him like a bug.

Mr. Kearny slid his keys back into his pocket and cleared his throat. His glance at Joanna betrayed a flicker of longing he couldn’t quite disguise.

I’d reflected once before that he was sweet on her. Joanna was a comely woman, always had been. It did not surprise me that as soon as Sam was locked away, men started to come out of the woodwork to court her. Mr. Jarrett, in his awful way, had done the same as Mr. Kearny.

I gazed at Mr. Kearny as though I expected him to rise and depart at any moment. After all, I’d come to call on my friend, relieving him of the duty of comforting her.

“Oh. Er.” Mr. Kearny took the hint and got to his feet. “I should be going, Mrs. Millburn. If you need anything, as I said, you send word to me. I’ll be here in a flash.”

“That is very kind.” Joanna left her chair and began moving to the door, her action encouraging him to go. “Thank you, Mr. Kearny.”

“Not at all. Not at all.” He dithered until Carrie appeared in the hall behind him, pointedly holding his coat and hat. “Good day, Mrs. Millburn. Mrs. Holloway.”

He added my name as an afterthought, then turned and nearly snatched his coat from Carrie’s hands.

“Mr. Kearny.” I stepped out into the hallway as he struggled to thrust his arms into the sleeves. Carrie watched inamusement instead of reaching to help. “Do you read Mr. Dickens, by chance?” I asked him.

“Eh?” Mr. Kearny turned in a circle, one sleeve eluding him. I caught it so he could slide his arm inside. He sent me a bewildered look at my question. “Why the…Dickens…do you want to know that?” He guffawed at his joke.

“Mr. Millburn enjoys him,” I said. “I thought perhaps you could lend him a book so he can while away the hours while he waits for his trial.”

“Been a long time since I read anything,” Mr. Kearny said, unconcerned. “But I could pop into a secondhand bookshop and take him something. Poor chap.”

“As you like.” I backed from him, nonchalant. “Thank you, Mr. Kearny.”

“Not at all.” Kearny lingered still, and Carrie shoved his hat at him.

He took it, said another round of good days to Joanna in the sitting room doorway, and to me, and finally departed.

“He sprang up out of nowhere,” Joanna said as we watched Mr. Kearny amble down the lane. “It was a kindness of him to look me up, I suppose. He was trying to reassure me, rather clumsily, that Sam would be all right.”

It wasn’t kindness, but I decided not to explain. It was the natural inclination of a man who saw a good woman who might soon be free to look after him. If Mr. Kearny had killed Mr. Stockley and laid the blame on Sam to get to Joanna, I would wring Mr. Kearny’s neck myself.

“I’ve just come from seeing Sam,” I said gently as we entered the sitting room, Carrie closing the door behind us. “He sends his love.”

Joanna swung to me, stricken. “You should have told me you would go. I want to see him. Let us go back there now.”

I put my hands on Joanna’s arms to keep her from rushing out of the house, coatless and hatless, to sprint to Newgate.

“I had no idea I’d be visiting him until Daniel intercepted me early this morning. They’ll not admit you, my dear. They barely admitted me—I had to go in on Daniel’s say-so.”

“That is nonsense,” Joanna blazed. “Families see prisoners all the time. They feed them.”

“Yes, I know. But Sam is being guarded rather closely.”

Joanna’s panicked eyes began to narrow. “You are lying to me, Kat. He doesn’t want to see me, does he?”

“Not like this, no.” I caressed her trembling shoulders. “Please understand, Joanna. Sam loves you dearly, and he hates that he’s been humiliated and broken. He does not want you to seehimuntil he comes back into this house, as the man you admire.”

Joanna regarded me fiercely. “That is rot. I love him no matter what. You won’t keep me from him. I need to see him before—” She broke off, unable to finish.

“There will be no ‘before,’ ” I said quickly. “Sam will be let off. I and Daniel and this barrister will make certain of it. Daniel referred to Sir Rupert Shepherd as heavy artillery. We will win this, all of us.”

“If it were your husband locked away in that filthy prison, you’d not be so sanguine.” Joanna glared at me. “Would you? Willing to tamely wait while others decided his fate? You’d be storming the ramparts. What if it was Daniel inside there?”

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