Page 17 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
“It’s a rookery in Bermondsey, is it not?” asked Kara.
“It is. It’s one of the poorest spots in London. It’s so bad, they’ve started clearing it. They mean to tear it all down, put up something new and shining, no doubt. But I ask you—where are all the people in that place supposed to go? They’ve no money. God and his angels know the other rookeries are filled, tooth by jowl. Someone must help them.” He sighed. “I’ve done what I can. I talked with a brewery and a tannery, and found a few family men some jobs. But there’s so many more that need help. Just someone to care. To try to point them down a better path. I gained their trust through the Wardrobe. I meet more people in need every time I come through with distributions. I can make a difference—for some of them, at the least. Taking away my position at the Wardrobe hurts them as much as me, don’t you see?”
“I understand your dilemma, Mr. Yardley, and I commend you on the efforts you have made,” Kara said warmly. “I own several manufactories, forges, and mills, you know. If you can give me a list of names of men who wouldn’t mind relocating for a job, I will make inquiries with my managers.”
Yardley’s eyes widened. “Will you? Yes, yes! I can give you ten names right now. Thank you, my—Your Grace.” He paused. “But my case? Do you think you could see your way to helping me? To intervening with the police?”
Niall spoke before Kara could. His wife had a soft heart, and he knew she would have been affected by Yardley’s story. “You do know why the police consider you a primary suspect, don’t you, Mr. Yardley?”
The man started to wring his cap again. “I know Glynn and I had our differences—”
Niall interrupted him. “Your shoe form was used to bash her head in, Mr. Yardley.”
“No!” The man’s eyes widened in shock. Faltering, he grabbed the back of a nearby chair. “Never say such a thing!”
“My wife saw it herself, lying next to the young woman, still covered in blood and brains.” It was harshly said. Niall had done it on purpose. He watched the man closely.
Yardley slid into the chair. Bending over, he clutched his middle, and then his head. “No,” he moaned. He pressed a hand over his mouth for a moment, then looked up, his eyes wild. “I didn’t do it, I tell you! Please, you must believe me!”
Strangely, Niall had begun to believe him. The man had been shocked at that revelation. Niall didn’t think the cobbler had been faking his reaction.
Kara spoke up. “Mr. Yardley, Glynn Foulger accused you of harassing her. She said you have been following her, throwing things at her windows and knocking on her door at night, trying to scare her. Shesaid you posted crude statements and drawings in the streets around her rooms, around the charity, and in Covent Garden, near her work.”
“She said you smashed her flower stall to pieces, to get back at her,” Niall added.
Yardley began to look a little wild. Niall stepped closer to his wife as the cobbler fixed his desperate gaze upon her.
“Your Grace, I never did those things you said. I swear to you! I did approach her a couple of times. I just wanted to talk, to explain how I’ve changed. I wanted her to know I am different now, that she could trust me. But she wouldn’t let me close. She just shouted at me.” He dropped his head in his hands. “I did get angry. She was stealing my life away without even giving me a chance to explain. But I never did those things you said.”
“Who, then?” asked Niall.
“I don’t know! I could not have been Glynn’s only enemy. She was… testy. Ill tempered. She hated the river, mistrusted men, and forever complained about how loud and dirty London is.” Yardley looked up. “You should ask young Beth. They were thick, the pair of them. She might know of someone else Glynn had trouble with.” He paused. “Or the flower girls.”
“Flower girls?” Kara asked.
“The flower sellers in the streets. They bought their wares from Glenn and were friendly with her, many of them.” He looked pleadingly at Kara. “Will you do it, Your Grace? Will you help me?”
She looked to Niall.
He shrugged. “The shoe form is a damning bit of evidence.”
“I never touched it, not in days,” Yardley objected. “I left my things at my workstation because I meant to appeal to the board of the Wardrobe, ask to be brought back. I spent the last couple of days in Bermondsey, talking to some of the folks I’ve helped, asking them to speak for me.”
Kara straightened. “Mr. Yardley, we have a friendly relationshipwith an inspector from Scotland Yard. If you will speak to him, tell him everything you have told us here, tonight, then I will do my best to convince them to look for other suspects, for someone else who might have wished to harm Miss Foulger.”
Yardley hesitated. “Won’t your inspector want to take me and throw me in a cell?”
A knock sounded on the door, and the other footman poked his head inside. Niall went to him.
“Your Grace,” he whispered, “Inspector Wooten has arrived.”
“Thank you,” Niall said. He turned to Kara and gave her a nod.
“I don’t know,” Kara said, answering Yardley’s question. “But I believe they will listen more closely if you go to them, instead of making them chase you down.”
“If you didn’t do this,” Niall said, “then do not let them cast you in the role of a fugitive.”
Yardley considered for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. If you will help me, I will speak to your inspector.”
