Page 100 of Affair

Mrs. Witty made a commiserating noise and went back to kneading the bread dough.

Charlotte poured more tea. “Please continue with your story, Mrs. Gatler.”

“Well, let me see. Where was I?” Mrs. Gatler frowned. “Not much more to tell. After a while Mrs. Heskett and the gentleman went upstairs. A few minutes later I heard the shot. Sent me into a panic, it did. I swear, I couldn’t even move for the longest time. Then I heard him on the stairs.”

“You heard the killer’s footsteps?”

“I heard his voice.” Mrs. Gatler gave a visible shudder. “Mrs. Heskett’s spaniel must have got in his path. He swore at the little beast. Told it to get out of his way.”

“Tell me everything you heard, Mrs. Gatler.”

“I think he must have kicked the poor dog. I heard it yelp. Next thing I know, there’s footsteps coming down belowstairs into the back hall. Went right past my room. I just held my breath and prayed. Never been so terrified in my life.”

“Did the man pause?”

“No, thank the good Lord. He went straight on out through the kitchens. I didn’t leave my room until I was sure he’d gone. Then the dog started to howl. After a while I went upstairs. That’s when I found Mrs. Heskett. She was just lying there in a pool of blood. It was terrible. I don’t believe that she died instantly.”

“Why do you say that?” Charlotte asked quickly.

Mrs. Gatler looked uncomfortable. “She’d sort of dragged herself across the carpet. Got as far as the wardrobe. She’d opened a drawer. There was blood all over the wood. Probably tried to haul herself to her feet. It was dreadful.”

No, Charlotte thought. Drusilla Heskett was not trying to stand. She used her last ounce of life to hide the sketchbook. She knew it held the only clue that could point to her killer.

“Why didn’t you summon the magistrate immediately?” Charlotte asked. “Why did you not come forth to tell what had happened?”

Mrs. Gatler looked at her as though she was not very bright. “D’you think I’m mad? I was the only one in the house that night. The authorities would have assumed that I was the murderer. Staff always gets the blame in a situation such as that, y’know. I’d likely have been arrested. They’d have said I was caught trying to steal the silver or some such thing.”

Charlotte drummed her fingers on the table. “What, precisely, did the killer say when he stumbled over the dog?”

“What? Oh, yes. On the stairs.” Mrs. Gatler swallowed the remains of her tea and looked up with a troubled expression. “I think he said, ‘Get out of my way, you bloody cur.’ Or something similar. But to tell you the truth, it wasn’t the words that stuck in my head. It was the voice.”

Charlotte froze. “The voice?”

“Real rough and hoarse.” Mrs. Gatler shuddered again. “Made me think of rocks rolling around inside a coffin.”

“Dear God.” Charlotte very nearly stopped breathing. The man who had given her the rose and the note was the same one who had murdered Drusilla Heskett. She had actually stood face-to-face with Drusilla’s killer.

No, not quite face-to-face, she reminded herself. The man in the black domino had worn a mask. There was only one person who might be able to put that graveled, broken voice together with a face.

“What’s wrong, Miss Charlotte?” Mrs. Witty brushed the flour from her hands and frowned in concern. “You look as though you’ve been hit by a thunderbolt.”

“The man who employed Juliana Post to tell me those falsehoods about Mr. St. Ives was likely the same man who gave me a note last night.” Charlotte rubbed her temples as she tried to reason out the logic of the situation. “It has to be the same man.”

“How can you know that?” Mrs. Witty demanded.

“The stratagem was the same in both instances. In each case an attempt was made to make me believe the worst of St. Ives.” Charlotte flattened her palms on the table and pushed herself to her feet. “And that man is very likely the murderer. Oh, my God, I must hurry.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mrs. Witty called as Charlotte dashed across the kitchen.

“To see Juliana Post.” Charlotte paused briefly in the doorway. “I fear that she is in grave danger. I must warn her.”

“But, Miss Charlotte—”

“Mr. St. Ives will be calling soon. When he arrives, kindly tell him where I have gone.”

Mrs. Witty scowled. “Why ever would Miss Post be in danger?”

“Because she is the only one who may be able to identify the killer. I can only hope that he has not yet realized that she is a threat to him.”

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