Page 78 of No One's Bride
“I—I’m sorry, Cutter.” Snot tricked from the wench’s nostrils. “He said it was just a favour for a friend.”
“Fetch him!”
While the woman hurried away, Mr Gibbs came bursting into the taproom. He took one look at the knife and pistol on the table and stopped dead in his tracks. “I heard shouting, milord.”
“You may join us, Mr Gibbs.” Ailsa beckoned him over. “Mr Jones is assisting us with our enquiries.”
Mr Jones cursed. “When a man threatens to blow a hole in your ballocks, you have no choice in the matter.” He glanced at the ceiling and cursed. “Though I thank you for bringing the matter to my attention. I’ll not have vermin living under my roof.”
After a series of bangs and shouts from above stairs, a man raced into the taproom, his lank brown hair framing his face like shabby curtains.
“You want to speak to me, Cutter?” He caught Ailsa’s eye as he finished buttoning his trousers. Recognition dawned, and he swallowed like he had a brick lodged in his throat.
Mr Jones grabbed Mullings by the scruff of his shirt and forced him into a seat. “When I gave you that scar on your hand, I said next time you’d lose a finger. Answer these good people, else I’ll take two.”
With pleading eyes, Mullings willed her to remain silent.
“Ye came to my home, Mr Mullings, to deliver a casket from Chadwick’s.” It seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had changed since the night Sebastian held her close in the darkness. “Except ye delivered the wrong package. Mr Woodbury told us everything.”
“I suggest you tell us exactly what happened.” Sebastian tossed back his whisky and seemed impressed by the smoky aftertaste. “Convince us you’re innocent of murder.”
Mr Jones grabbed his knife from the table and firmed his grip on the handle. “Don’t lie, lad. There’s a thumb at stake.”
Beads of sweat coated Mr Mullings’ brow. “I sometimes do jobs for people, people what can’t do jobs for themselves.”
“Someone hired ye to deliver the wrong books?” Hopefully, she would learn what had happened to the rare copy ofUtopia.
“Yes. The assistant at the auction house.”
“Hibbet hired you?” Anger flared in Sebastian’s eyes.
Mr Mullings nodded. “He wanted me to get Woodbury drunk and deliver one of the books to Mr Smith in Tavistock Street. A magician’s manual, he said. I was to make sure he received it at nine o’clock that night, but I had trouble finding a hackney.”
Mr Smith? The sinister fellow dressed in black?
“But ye delivered the grimoire to me.” No wonder Mr Smith had been watching her from the shadows. He’d been expecting to receive the spell book.
“Yes, I knew I’d made a mistake when I opened Smith’s box to see what the fuss was about and found thatUtopiabook. I came back to swap them, but he gave chase.” Mullings pointed at Sebastian.
So, the delivery man was the mysterious intruder.
Still, the toad was lying. He returned empty-handed and meant to steal the casket, not swap it.
“The wooden boxes looked the same,” Mr Mullings grumbled. “So I kept my mouth shut and delivered the last box to Mr Smith. I ran before he could check the contents.”
The story sounded plausible but what of Mr Hibbet’s motive?
“Did Mr Hibbet say why he hired you?” Sebastian asked. Like their impassioned emotions, their thoughts were aligned.
“No. Just that Smith was to get the spell book, and Betsy was to approach the watchman at the bottom of Broad Street and say she heard screams from the auction house.”
Ailsa jerked at the revelation. “Mr Hibbet paid ye to inform the watchman?” Good heavens. Did he know someone would murder him in cold blood?
Mr Mullings confirmed the theory by adding, “He said it had to be at nine o’clock as he was expecting a visitor and there might be trouble.”
So, the murderer was known to Mr Hibbet, and it all had something to do with delivering the grimoire to Mr Smith and not Professor Mangold. Nothing but a foolish mistake had drawn Ailsa into the fray.
The notion left her limbs heavy. If Mr Mullings had completed the task successfully, Sebastian would have had no reason to call. No reason to believe they were under a spell. No reason to kiss her wildly and make passionate love to her in the garden.
