Page 81 of Speculations in Sin

“Samismy friend,” Mr. Kearny tried. “Truly. I liked him right away, helped him find a place here. I never meant for all this to land on him.”

“Yet, you said nothing,” I repeated. “You stood by and let Sam be taken, perhaps to hang. What about Mr. Stockley? Why did you kill him? Had he come too close to revealing your crime?”

Mr. Kearny looked confused a moment, then his eyes widened until they bulged. “Are you accusing me of killing Stockley? I never did. I swear to Providence, I never touched the man. I took the money, yes—it was there for the taking, and so very easy. It just needed some clever tweaking so no one would notice it going. But I’m not amurderer. Good Lord, I’d never dothat.”

He gazed at me with a mix of so much indignation and abject terror that I began to believe him.

“Go,” Miss Swann repeated to Mr. Kearny in her icy voice.“Now.”

Mr. Kearny gulped. He faced the two of us women, me condemning, Miss Swann infuriated—a forbidding goddess protective of her temple.

Then he bolted.

I snatched at his coat, but Mr. Kearny was too fast for me. He slammed open the door and sprinted into the hall, the door banging shut again from his momentum.

I knew I’d never catch him. I was hampered by skirts even if I could run as swiftly as a man in fine condition. I raced to the window instead, fumbling with the curtains and tugging at the window sash.

The window stuck fast, but I saw I did not need to shout down a warning. Daniel was already hard on Mr. Kearny’s heels as that man barreled into the lane below me. Daniel emitted a series of sharp whistles worthy of Mr. Grimes, and I saw movement at the end of the lane. Someone would catch him.

I turned to find Miss Swann directly behind me, her face hard with determination.

“You will say nothing,” she instructed.

I sent her an incredulous look. “I will not report an embezzler so your precious bank won’t be slandered? It is too late to cover things up now, in any case, Miss Swann. Mr. Kearny will be caught and taken to the police.”

“Mr. Kearny will never come to trial. I will make certain of it.”

“You would let Sam Millburn rot in prison, instead? Or be hanged for a crime he did not do?”

“Mr. Millburn does not matter,” Miss Swann answered, tight-lipped. “Daalman’s existed long before he was born, and it will continue long after he is dead.”

“What do you mean, he does not matter?” I stepped to her in outrage. “Sam has a wife and children. He matters tothem. They cannot get along without him. Think of what would happen to your sister, and your—your grandmother—if you were in prison in his place.”

Miss Swann’s face lost all color. I wasn’t certain if theelderly woman was her grandmother or any relation at all, but my argument clearly enraged her.

“How dare you?” she demanded. “What can you even know of my family? I am a Daalman, the only one of them who works in this building day in and day out. I protect their name, their history.Ido.” Miss Swann tapped a long finger to her chest. “Who areyou?”

“I am a cook,” I said with all my dignity. “And I know a woman who’s lost all sense of right and wrong when I see her.”

“A cook,” Miss Swann sneered. “How can you possibly understand? This bank would be nothing without me.”

“Mr. Zachary runs it,” I pointed out. “And the board.”

“Mr. Zachary.” Miss Swann’s lip curled. “He does what I tell him. He understands his place.”

“And gives you whatever keys you ask for.” My words slowed as I abruptly understood who had killed Mr. Stockley and why.

“He does not need to give me anything,” Miss Swann snapped.

I glanced at a wall panel behind the desk that was slightly out of skew with the others. Mr. Kearny had indicated Mr. Zachary kept all the keys in a locked cabinet behind such a panel. I guessed it would be easy for Miss Swann to take the key tothat—Mr. Zachary might leave it carelessly about, but even if he did not, I didn’t doubt she was sharp enough to lift it from him.

If Miss Swann copied the cabinet’s key, then she could gradually make copies of all the keys within it, which opened every door in the building. The board might not have entrusted the keys to her, but that had not stopped the resourceful Miss Swann.

“You can unlock any door you wish,” I continued. “You do not let the fact that two different keys must be used stop you from entering a strong room.”

“No, I—” Miss Swann broke off, as though realizing she was about to say too much. “Enough of this.”

She followed the words with a swing of her arm. Too late, I realized she’d lifted a small marble vase from one of the tables while I’d been at the window.

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