Page 80 of Grave Expectations
"And I am just living here. Nothing more."
Gus marched back to the door where he once more stood guard, arms crossed over his chest. The scowl remained on his face, making him look fiercer than ever.
"Gus is still very upset," I told Mrs. Drinkwater. "As am I."
She looked down at the knotted fingers in her lap. "So what are you going to do with me?"
"That depends on how much more information you can give us."
"I've told you everything! Julia was the one who helped me. Ask her if you don't believe me."
"We will. But before we can let you go, we need to know about the person who almost commissioned your husband's work."
She lifted one shoulder. "I know nothing about him."
"Nothing? What is it a man, for example?"
"I…I suppose, although I never met him. Reggie did say 'he,' so I presume he was male. Oh, I don't know! What does it matter anyway? The commission ended some time ago. It never really began."
"Why not?"
"The fellow learned that Reggie used his magic to make the limbs work. He never kept it a secret from those who asked, though few did. Most people don't know anything about magic, you see, but this man must have. Reggie wrote back and never heard from him again."
"Did your husband mention anything about him?"
She frowned. "I recall now. He knew nothing about the fellow because the letter bore only a signature, and an illegible one at that. No letterhead or printed name."
An illegible signature with no monogrammed letterhead…it reminded me of the letters the orphanages had received some weeks back, asking after me. Could this be the same person? It was almost unthinkable that there could be a connection. Yet someone wanted to know about supernaturals, perhaps to kill them, and I was a supernatural.
I suppressed a shiver. "Did your husband keep the letter?"
"He threw it out when nothing came of the arrangement."
I sighed. We were no closer to knowing an identity than before.
"Of course, Reggie probably wouldn't have taken the fellow as his patron anyway, even if magic hadn't been an issue."
"Why?"
"He wanted Reggie to extend his work and reanimate bodies. Like you do, Miss Holloway."
I stared at her. Then I stared at Seth. He nodded. Itmustbe the same man who'd approached Frankenstein and who went on to commission Jasper's work. He wanted to bring the dead back to life, but through scientific means, not magic. For what purpose? And why not with magic?
"Mrs. Drinkwater, do you have any notion as to why your husband was killed?" I asked.
She twisted her hands into her skirt. "None whatsoever. I suppose we'll never know now." She looked close to tears. Seth handed her a handkerchief and she dabbed at her eyes.
"Could it be to silence him?" I asked no one in particular. "Perhaps Drinkwater knew the man's name, or something that could identify him."
"Or perhaps he just wanted him dead because he was a supernatural," Seth said with a shrug.
"The Brumley woman too," Gus added. "Don't forget her."
Mrs. Drinkwater whimpered. "This is horrible. So, so horrible. I just want my Reggie back. How am I to go on without him? He was my whole life."
"There, there," I said, absently. "Perhaps move in with your sister for a while." To Gus and Seth, I said, "We should find out more about the hired gunman who shot Mr. Drinkwater and Miss Brumley. Who was he in recent contact with, for example? Perhaps he left clues as to who paid him."
The door opened, thumping Gus in the back. "Oi!" He swallowed his protest as Lincoln stormed in, still wearing his coat and gloves.
