Page 94 of No One's Bride
Mr Murden nodded as he cleaned his spectacles with his handkerchief. “I wanted to broach the subject of Hibbet’s letter. Luckily, I took it with me, or it would have perished in the house fire.”
“We suspect arson, a deliberate act to destroy vital evidence,” Mr Daventry said. “Murden sent word to Hart Street, fearing the incident might be connected to the murder. I arrived at the Great Marlborough Street office while they were waiting to answer the magistrate’s questions.”
Sebastian drew the obvious conclusion. “So, Hibbet arranged to send the grimoire to Smith in the hope of catching a spy. Perhaps the coded letter is further evidence, and he trusted Mrs Murden with the truth.”
Or Mrs Murden was a spy.
Judging by the woman’s feeble countenance, it was doubtful.
“Is Christian here?” Mr Daventry scrubbed his hand down his face and looked exhausted. “We have desperate need of his services.”
Mr Chance gave a curt nod. “Unlike some of us, he retired at a decent hour. Doubtless you want me to wake him.” He tugged the bell pull like a hangman testing the rope. “I’ll drag him from bed myself if it means getting rid of you.”
Sigmund appeared, received his orders and stomped upstairs to rouse the other Mr Chance.
While waiting, Ailsa thought to probe Mrs Murden further. She guided the woman to a seat. “Is there a reason Mr Hibbet would send ye the coded letter?”
The lady’s legs quivered as she sat in the chair. “We’re all friends and have known each other for years. I can only think Joshua trusted me to keep a secret.”
“When did ye receive the missive?”
“The night poor Joshua died. A penny boy delivered it at nine o’clock, and I gave him our leftover supper.”
Did she know her husband suspected her of having relations with Mr Hibbet? It was a sensitive subject that couldn’t be ignored.
“Are ye aware of the auction house gossip? Do ye know people believe Mr Hibbet was more than yer friend?” Ailsa winced as the words left her lips. “Do ye know who started the rumours?”
Mrs Murden’s cheeks turned cherry red. Her nervous gaze flitted to her husband in a look of desperation, not guilt. “I have my suspicions, but without proof, it’s not right to mention names.”
“Ye suspect Miss Chadwick,” Ailsa stated. She had the most to gain from sullying Mr Hibbet’s name. Her father would not take kindly to his illegitimate son dallying with a jezebel.
Mrs Murden nodded. “To say so aloud would see my husband out of work. And he’s dedicated his life to making the business a success.”
Sebastian asked the next pressing question. “Other than Miss Chadwick, who knows about the coded letter?”
“Miss Chadwick?” Mrs Murden frowned. “No one knows about the letter. We’ve not mentioned it to a soul. Not until tonight. We assumed Mr Daventry knew because Joshua had left a clue.”
Oh, dear!
Now they would have to explain why Mr Murden was rummaging through the drawers in the apartment.
“I—I mentioned the letter to Miss Chadwick,” Mr Murden suddenly blurted. “It was a slip of the tongue, but she’s the only person I told.”
From his fireside chair, Aaron Chance snorted. “It seems you’ve found your arsonist. Now, would you all kindly sod off?”
“Miss Chadwick seems the likely culprit, sir,” Ailsa said, “but we still need to find a motive, and she lacks the strength to break a man’s sternum.”
“You speak like I should care, madam,” Mr Chance countered.
Sigmund returned, but to everyone’s dismay brought bad news. “Christian isn’t here, sir. His bed is still made. Shall I visit Dawkins in the stable yard and make enquiries?”
Mr Chance’s eyes turned as black as the portal to hell. “No. I’ll deal with the matter myself.” He rose from the chair like a demigod. The offspring of Odin. A deity of war. “You’ve an hour to deal with the matter, Daventry.”
“I’ll need the grimoire.”
Mr Chance nodded to Sigmund. “Give him what he wants. When the hour is up, see them all out.” His gaze shifted to Ailsa. “Miss MacTavish may stay if she’s nowhere safe to go.” And then he strode from the room as if preparing to slay demons.
Mr Daventry wasted no time. “We’ve an hour to decipher the code. Denton, Christian spoke to you about the symbols. I’ll need you to make sense of those on the letter.”
