Page 87 of The Last Chance
The housekeeper had been much younger, her hair dark, not grey, her face thinner, gaunt even. And she had not worn spectacles. He was certain it was the same woman—a dreaded ghost from his past.
Rothley made to speak, but Aaron raised a stalling hand.
Who was she?
The answer danced in his mind, a fraction out of reach.
A loud rap on the front door jolted Aaron from his musings. The sound came just before the hall clock chimed the dreaded hour.
Aaron swallowed past the lump in his throat. “If they arrest me, I need you to free me from gaol,” he told Rothley. “You’ll work with my brothers to?—”
“And with me,” Delphine added. “We will all work to uncover the truth, Aaron. You have our word. We will do it for Miss Lovelace, too.”
“Yes,” Rothley agreed, ignoring the second knock on the door. “I’ll not spend my life plagued by more unanswered questions.”
Aaron gathered himself and opened the door.
Daventry looked nervous as he ushered the magistrate, Mr Harriott, into the hall of Fortune’s Den. They were surprised to see the Marquess of Rothley, who barked orders, demanding someone better prove two innocent people were being framed for murder.
Mr Harriott, a short tubby man with hair as thin as his patience, gripped the warrant. “We need Miss Lovelace to come to the Thames Police Office to answer some questions,” he said eloquently. “You should come, too, Mr Chance. It will save time, and we need your statement.”
“I gave you a statement on the night of the murder.”
“New evidence has come to light.”
Aaron sent Delphine to fetch Miss Lovelace.
While they waited, Rothley mentioned Miss Fitzpatrick’s motive. Thankfully, he did not say Lucia was Venus. “Chance has proof Berridge purchased his father’s watch from the auctioneers. How blind can you be? Berridge has been making threats for years. He wants retribution for his son’s death. He’s making a laughingstock of you all.”
Nervous about challenging a marquess, Harriott said, “I have no option but to follow procedure. All suspects must answer the claims made against them. The evidence is compelling.”
“You do have a choice,” Daventry said, deciding to risk his reputation. “You could delay questioning them for a few days. They’re obviously making progress. And I disagree with your opinion of the evidence. You’ve based the hypothesis on anonymous letters with no clue as to the sender’s identity.”
Harriott argued the point. “The fact remains, Miss Lovelace knew the man who was murdered on her premises. I need to question her about her motive.”
“Question her or arrest her?” Aaron countered.
Harriott shifted nervously. “Arrest her on suspicion of murder. She will have legal representation. There’s time to determine whether the letters are legitimate.”
Aaron lost his temper. “Why is she even a suspect? Twenty reliable witnesses corroborate her story and place her in the drawing room when the murder took place. Speak to the coroner. Howard was stabbed with some force.”
“The coroner agrees a woman may have delivered the lethal blow.”
“May have?” Aaron scoffed. Whether fighting with fists or logic, it was important to win the point. “Question all ladies present that night. You must admit, the letter arrived at a convenient time.”
“Well, yes,” the magistrate said, wavering.
“Release her into my custody.” Rothley spoke with an aristocrat’s aplomb. “I will act as surety while we gather more evidence to support their claims. Based on Mr Chance’s history with Lord Berridge, you must accept this all seems rather suspicious. No man wants to look a fool in front of his superiors, Harriott.”
A sudden sense of inadequacy weighed heavily on Aaron’s shoulders. A weakness he had not felt since he was a boy. He could kill with his bare hands and had money to do as he pleased. Yet, in the eyes of the law and society, he remained insignificant. A mere mister held no sway. He couldn’t use his title as a weapon to bend people to his will.
Rothley was more powerful.
The fact left Aaron facing a startling truth.
Men did what he said because he owned their debts, and they were terrified. Without the club, he lacked the means of controlling the lofty lords. And what if he lost a limb and couldn’t fight?
Delphine returned. “I knocked twice, but she’s not answering.”
