Page 92 of An Unwilling Earl
“We have what we think might be some information on the killing of the women that are being pulled out of the river,” Jacob said.
O’Leary’s smile faded. “I see. Well, that certainly is a surprise. What sort of information do you have?”
Jacob looked at Charlotte, and she realized it would be best if she told the story herself. She began with the doll, then the cats, and finally, her suspicion that her cousin Edmund was the killer.
O’Leary sat through the entire telling of the story silently, hands still folded on his desk. He’d not made one note nor asked one question.
“You believe your cousin is murdering these women?” There was no inflection in his voice, and she couldn’t tell if he believed her or not.
“Yes,” she said, decisively. In the retelling she was more convinced than ever that Edmund was guilty and even more convinced that she was doing the right thing.
Halfway into the story Jacob had covered her hand with his, and he now squeezed it, a silent show of solidarity and comfort that she desperately needed.
“He is the son of a baron, raised in a somewhat well-off household. Educated, I presume?”
Charlotte was surprised by the direction of the detective’s thoughts. “I’m unsure of his education,” she said. “I believe he was sent away to school for a time, before his father died.”
O’Leary sat back and considered her for a long while, tapping his fingers on the desktop. “These types of crimes, murder like this, are often perpetrated by a lower class of people. Men who cannot control their…urges. Men who are burdened by their situation in life. Typically, barons and other gentlemen do not perform such heinous crimes. Their crimes are more in the line of extortion and bribery. Things like that.”
For a moment, Charlotte was speechless. He was telling her that because Edmund was a baron and educated that he couldn’t possibly perpetrate these crimes? It was the most foolish thing she’d ever heard.
“Pardon me, Detective, but I believe that deep down, when you strip away the titles and the education, people are the same. Just because a man has money doesn’t mean he doesn’t have the same urges as a poor man. The idea that certain type of men commit certain types of crimes seems a bit narrow-minded.”
Jacob’s fingers tensed on her hand, and it appeared that O’Leary was holding back a grin. But Charlotte was incensed. Outraged at such barbaric ideas.
“That is the modern take on crime,” O’Leary said, casting a glance at Jacob.
“But that is absurd,” she said. “If anyone could perform such an act it would precisely be an educated man. Who else but an educated man would know how to hunt these girls down and find them at their most vulnerable?”
“I assure you that there have been many educated men who have studied the crime statistics of this city and other cities as well. It is usually the uneducated man who commits the more serious crime of murder. Your cousin, while he sounds like a disturbed individual, does not fit the mold of a person who is capable of doing… Well, what was done to these women is horrendous, and a man of such education could not have done this.”
Jacob sat forward. “If I may interrupt. O’Leary, you are open to the observations of Armbruster and myself. We certainly don’t know of the studies done on crime and criminals. We bring a more pedantic approach to your job. Lady Ashland has lived with this man for nearly five years. She has observed things that no one else has. I think she might offer a fresh approach to the subject.”
O’Leary leaned back and contemplated Charlotte for a time.
Jacob squeezed her hand. O’Leary placed his hand on his chin and rubbed his lips with his fingers, deep in thought.
“What you are proposing is frightening to most people, even police detectives,” O’Leary said. “People don’t want to think that an ordinary man, a man who walks among us, eats dinner beside us, can do such vile deeds. They want to think that someone who does these things is a monster and that they can easily pick such a monster out from a crowd. What you are telling me is that evil can be anywhere.”
“That is precisely what I’m telling you,” Charlotte said. “Because I have seen it myself.”
“Charlotte believes that there are monsters in all of us, but most of us can control them,” Jacob said.
O’Leary seemed intrigued by that idea and seemed to think about it for a moment. “We have nothing,” he said. “No leads. No witnesses. Nothing but panicked servants. The victims have all been working women, most probably servants. Why do you think someone like your cousin would want to associate with a person so far beneath him?”
“Because, as you said, he is disturbed. A monster, if you will.”
“I can’t just barge into the home of a baron and accuse him of being a killer.”
“It’s him,” she said. “He’s the one killing these women. If you don’t stop him there will be more.”
O’Leary looked down at his desk, deep in thought.
“What kind of proof do you need?” she asked.
“Something that clearly points to a baron who kills women,” O’Leary said.
The three of them fell silent, each in their own thoughts.
