Page 18 of The Hazardous Measure of Love
The back swung open and he stood on tiptoe to look in. ‘There’s something inside!’
We clustered around him as he unfolded the single sheet of paper.
LEAVE HER ALONE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
‘That’s all?’ I lifted the clock down, almost staggering under the weight of it. Luc took it and set it on the desk before I dropped it. ‘There’s nothing else.’
Luc held the paper up to the light. ‘Good quality paper, watermarked – but nothing unusual. The writing could be by anyone who has their letters: footman or duke.’ He frowned at the note. ‘But who isshe?’
‘Madame Vaillant? Miss Jordan? One of the female staff?’
‘Or any one of the thousands of women in London,’ Garrick said. ‘What I find strange is that he should keep it, then hide it like that.’
‘I suppose…’ Adrien broke off.
‘What?’ I demanded.
‘My first thought was that there are any number of places that he could have locked it away securely. Places I do not have the keys for. His side of the desk or his bedchamber, for example. But if someonedidsearch, had got hold of the keys illicitly, or forced locks, then they would not find it, because it was hidden there.’ He nodded towards the clock.
‘Did he trust you?’ Garrick asked bluntly.
‘I think so.’ Adrien hesitated, but more because he was thinking hard, than because of any guilt, I sensed. ‘I hadn’t been working for him all that long, of course, but although I did not hold all the keys, he made no secret from me of where the rest of them were and this was the only one that never left his person. But he was a very private person – very self-contained and controlled. I understood clearly that there were areas of his life that were none of my concern: there was no unpleasantness about it. I could have taken those other keys at any time he was away and looked at whatever was locked away, because I had the key to the drawer they were in and he knew it.’
‘So this note must belong to a completely separate category of privacy,’ I said. ‘Not simply the personal, or government or business matters that should be kept confidential, even from you. He trusted you not to pry into those.’
‘Something tells me that he hid this away to puzzle over,’ Luc said. ‘I do not think he knew who it was from. A more volatile man would have thrown it on the fire. A less precise man would have put it in one of the locked drawers, even though it did not fit any of the categories of their contents. If he had understood it, he would have taken action and would not need to keep it. But he did not have a file labelled “Vaguely Threatening Messages”, so he hid it away in the clock.’
‘There’s someone at the door.’ Adrien closed the desk drawers and began locking them.
Luc moved to the door and opened it a crack. ‘Sir William. Adrien, you and I will speak to him. Cassie, Garrick, you take the opportunity to search the bedchamber.’
‘Turn right out of here, through the baize door at the end of the hall and up the servants’ stair,’ Adrien said.
We slipped out, the opened door shielding us from view. One flight up the uncarpeted wooden stairs we found a door that led onto the first floor. We began trying doors.
‘In here,’ Garrick said, and I followed him into an oppressively masculine bedchamber.
‘Goodness, what a passion-killer of a room,’ I remarked, making him snort as we stood there looking round at the dark hangings, even darker wood and the earnest, unimaginative, artwork.
I opened a door in the corner and found the dressing room. ‘I’ll begin in here.’
We were still searching half an hour later, without having found anything remotely out of place, suspicious or even odd, when Luc and Adrien joined us.
I scooted out from under the bed where I had been admiring the thorough dusting and discovering nothing more interesting than that the housekeeping here was superb. ‘What did Sir William say?’
‘That Tillingham was killed with a single stab to the heart from a narrow, slender, straight blade that had entered horizontally. Either the murderer was lucky or they knew exactly where to aim a killing blow.’
‘Sounds like a stiletto,’ Garrick said, sitting back on his heels from where he had been tapping skirting boards.
‘Must have been someone he trusted, to let them get so close with a blade,’ I mused and perched on the edge of the bed, feet swinging. ‘Or he didn’t realise they had one. Or he was taken completely by surprise. We aren’t much further forward.’ I stood up, then thought some more. ‘On the other hand, it was a very clean kill. Even if hitting the heart was simply luck, there was no stabbing about, or slashing or mutilation. It doesn’t seem like frenzy, or blind hatred, or someone defending themselves, come to that. This seems almost professional.’
‘Or it was committed by someone who was thinking clearly.’ Luc sat next to me. ‘Shooting would attract immediate attention. A bludgeoning or throttling would risk a great deal of noise if Tillingham fought back. Hacking and mutilation would increase the risk of discovery and might cover the killer in blood.’
I shuddered.
‘Sorry.’ He put his arm around me and pulled me into a hug.
‘No, it is best to think it through as logically as we can,’ I said. But I made no effort to free myself. ‘This could have been spur of the moment, provided a weapon was to hand. But then we eliminated the paper knife, and what kind of other weapon can you reliably expect to find in a gentleman’s study? Shooting implies at least some degree of planning, but it looks as though bringing a blade did too. Why not use poison?’
