Page 10 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
The sergeant raised a brow. “So, you are here, too, Miss Winther? I should have guessed.”
If Landover had been disapproving of Kara when last they had met, he had been utterly flummoxed by Gyda. Kara bit back a smile. Her friend often had that effect on people—and it was only one of many reasons to love her.
“It’s your lucky day, Sergeant,” Gyda said with a grin.
“Miss Williams is understandably upset,” Kara said. “We’ll sit with her until you are finished.”
The sergeant nodded and set off after Royston. Mr. Jephson followed silently in their wake.
Beth willingly went to settle on the farthest bench. She raised shaking hands to her mouth. “I heard Glynn shouting at John Yardley. I heard her tell him he was not fit to be around vulnerable women and girls.”
“Do you know where this Yardley lives, Beth?” asked Gyda.
Beth shook her head. “No. I think he works in a shop on the Strand.” She looked between Kara and Gyda. “Will you be in London for a while, do you think? Or do you plan to return to Scotland straight away?”
“We meant to stay in any case, Beth, but we will most definitely stay as long as you need us. Perhaps—” Kara broke off as Sergeant Landover and Mr. Royston returned. She looked, but Jephson had not returned with them. “Was it there? The shoe form?” she asked.
Landover shook his head. “No. We must assume the one that killed the young woman is Yardley’s.” He bent to speak gently to Beth. “I know it is difficult, miss, but would you come over to have another look at Miss Foulger with me?”
Clutching Gyda’s hand, Beth nodded.
“Look carefully, miss,” the sergeant said as they looked over the young woman’s form. “Is the body situated now as you found it this morning?”
Beth nodded.
“Nothing has been moved? Adjusted?”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“And the weapon. You saw it just so, early this morning?”
“Yes.” Beth gestured. “And the cabbage.” She frowned suddenly. “But where is her bag?”
Landover paused. “Bag?”
“Glynn always carried a bag over her shoulder and across.” Beth mimicked the fit. “She always had a sewing project going for the charity. Smocks, usually, for the younger girls. Her smocks were prized by those who received them.”
“It’s true,” Royston chimed in. “Miss Foulger was a talented seamstress.” He glanced over his shoulder as his name was called. “Excuse me for a moment.” He walked back toward the charity building.
“Was Miss Foulger’s bag there this morning?” the sergeant asked Beth as Royston headed away.
“I don’t think so.” Beth frowned. “I’m trying to remember, but it was such a shock, finding her like that. I could scarcely breathe. My ears were buzzing. I went cold all over and nearly fainted.”
“It’s all right, Beth,” Gyda said soothingly. “Just close your eyes and think about what you saw.”
Scowling, Beth obeyed. “No. It wasn’t there. And it should have been. Glynn would have been coming from there.” She pointed at the church.
“How do you know that?” asked Landover.
“Her stall is not far from the front of St. Paul’s. It’s just outside theflower building. She often closed up for the day, then cut through the church and yard and came in the back over here. She always sewed during the slower times of the day. She had that bag with her nearly always.”
“What did the bag look like?” asked the sergeant.
“It was blue and had every sort of flower embroidered along the edges, like a garland. It was her own work. One of a kind. She would have had it with her,” Beth said decisively. “She was working on a special smock, one that I meant to give to one of the girls in my district.”
“Special in what way?” asked Kara. She realized she was asking questions that the coroner’s assistant should, and sent Landover an apologetic look.
“Glynn always added something special to her smocks. A little surprise. She always put it on the inside, just under the buttonhole for one of the straps that went over the shoulder. Just a little bit of embroidery. It wasn’t always the same. A flower. A star. A bird. A boat. A sun. Just a pretty little secret that no one else would know about, to make them smile when they saw it.” Beth’s lip trembled. “She was making one for me to give to a flower girl who is often hanging about the Garden or in the streets between here and Mayfair. Lily, her name is. Glynn was going to embroider a lush, flowering lily inside the smock for her.”
