Page 24 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
“The imprint of a boot?” he asked.
“It is,” Wooten said. “The constable who looked into Miss Foulger’s wrecked flower stall found a footprint amid the wreckage, left in the mix of water, soil, and general dirt of Covent Garden. He was able to make a plaster cast of it before it could be obliterated.”
“I hope you recognized him for his excellent work,” Niall said, sounding impressed. He raised the cast to peer at the impression of the heel. “What’s this?”
“That, I am afraid, is the proof that Mr. Yardley did indeed destroy Glynn Foulger’s flower stall,” Wooten said quietly.
Kara frowned down at the mark on the heel. “Are those… initials?” Her heart sank. “JY.”
“John Yardley,” Wooten said with a sigh. “It seems all of the footwear he crafts is marked in the same way, including the boots he is currently wearing.”
Ire rose in Kara’s chest. “Where is he?” she asked Wooten.
The inspector gestured. “I’ve had him placed in our holding area. Isuspected you would wish to speak with him—and he has specifically requested to see you, Your Grace.”
Kara straightened. “Lead the way.”
Wooten led them to a tiny closet of a room. It was fitted in the back with a bench. A chair sat nearby, leaving just enough room for Niall and the inspector to squeeze in after the door closed.
Kara took the chair and scowled at Yardley. The little man was in his stocking feet, but he still had his hat, and once again he twisted it as he gazed at her.
“You lied to me, Mr. Yardley,” Kara declared. “Straight to my face, sir.”
“I know it seems that way, my—Your Grace, but I didn’t. Not exactly.”
She raised her brow at the man and waited.
“I… It was your man, the duke, what mentioned the flower stall.Youasked about the stalking and harassing—and I said I never did any of that. And I never did. Not any of whatyouspoke of, Your Grace.”
“That’s splitting hairs very finely, Mr. Yardley,” Kara replied.
“Indeed,” Niall said. “You merely lied to me, not to my wife?Thatis your defense?”
“Well, I could not confess to smashing the stall, not if I wanted you to help me.”
“So, now you do admit it?” Niall sounded stern. “You did destroy Glynn Foulger’s stall?”
Tears welled in the man’s eyes. “So help me, I did. I was so blazing angry at her! She would not listen. She refused to believe that I had changed, that I had worked to become a better man.”
Kara merely looked at him.
“I know how it sounds, Your Grace.” Yardley’s head drooped. “When the board agreed to send me packing, I was that distraught. I wanted to swim in a vat of ale. I never wanted to drown my sorrows so bad in all my life. But I knew that would only lead to bigger troubles. So I set out, walking the streets, trying to stomp and bleedout my anger into the very city itself. I must have walked miles, but eventually I found myself in Covent Garden, late at night.” He sighed. “I stood there, grieving like someone had died. It was my life that was gone, and there was just one thought in my head. Glynn had destroyed my livelihood, my chance at a better life, and I was gripped with the need to do the same to her. So yes, I confess. I did smash her flower stall. I took out all that anger on it and ruined it completely.” He raised his head to meet Kara’s gaze. “But I won’t confess to the rest of it, for none of that was me.”
“You didn’t follow her, try to scare her in the dead of night, or post those broadsheets?” Niall’s tone was full of doubt.
“I never did, Your Grace.” Yardley turned a pleading look toward Wooten. “You must believe me, sir. I vented my anger and frustration on her stall, but I did not harass Glynn Foulger, nor did I kill her. You must keep looking for the man who did!”
Wooten gazed directly back at the man. “Perhaps I would, Mr. Yardley, if I had a direction to focus on. But every time I ask someone who knew Glynn Foulger, it is your name that comes up.”
“There must be someone else, for it wasn’t me,” Yardley insisted. “Speak with her neighbors, mayhap. Glynn was a sharp-tongued woman. She was bound to clash with someone else. Or ask that toff, the one who loathed her so much.”
Kara stilled. “Toff? Who do you mean, Mr. Yardley?”
“Well, I don’t know his name, do I? I’m not on speaking terms with the nobility, as a rule,” he said sarcastically.
Wooten had drawn out his notebook. “A gentleman, you say? Someone who did not care for Miss Foulger?”
“Well, he looked at her like he despised her, sure enough,” Yardley said. “I felt a certain kinship with him when I spotted him, I can tell you.”
