Page 39 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
“I recall the story in the papers, when it happened,” Stayme said. “Dreadful.”
“I remember it as well,” Wooten said. “That poor woman saw a great deal of tragedy in her young life—and it may continue on after her.” The inspector met Niall’s gaze. “When we see Mr. Royston tomorrow, I will tell him that the harassment charges against Mr. Yardley have been repealed.”
Niall heard what Wooten did not say. “But he hasn’t been released?”
“No. He’s the only suspect Frye has for the murder.”
“Is he even looking for another?” asked Kara.
“Not that I can see,” Wooten said.
They all sat in silence for a moment.
“Well, perhaps Mr. Royston will have an idea on where to point us,” Niall said. “But for now, there will be tragedy here if we do not do justice to Cook’s special dessert. Let’s bring on the roly-poly.”
Chapter Nine
Morning mists stillhung in the air when Niall and Wooten made their way into All Saints Cemetery. Niall eyed the cast-iron decorations on the gates, examining the closest one—an hourglass in relief—with a critical eye. A bit on the nose, in his opinion.
Covering fifty-two acres, the place stretched out, quiet and green before them. The paths appeared to be weed-free and looked after, and the lush foliage of late spring gave the place a pretty, restful air. They passed the white obelisk dedicated to five men who had been transported for campaigning for parliamentary reform and headed into the narrow avenues between the graves. They varied from imposing monuments to important men to small, simple headstones that marked the resting places of the common dead and more modest burials.
Niall spotted a clergyman and two gentlemen standing at a fresh gravesite ahead. A couple of cemetery employees with shovels stood nearby. They withdrew as Niall and Wooten arrived.
Royston gave Niall a nod and stood stiffly straight as the vicar began to speak. The service was short, but the charity manager’s attention seemed to wander. The gentleman next to him merely stared ahead, frowning. The man of the cloth also apparently had other things on his mind, or perhaps demands on his time, for he consigned Miss Foulger’s soul to her heavenly father, gave the men a nod, thenstrode away.
“Not much of a service,” Wooten whispered as the groundsmen came forward to begin the filling of the grave. He and Niall moved away. They went slowly, though, allowing Royston to catch them up.
The manager obviously knew who Niall was, although they hadn’t yet met. He hailed them and spoke as he came abreast. “I am Royston, manager at the Waif’s Wardrobe. It was good of you to come, Your Grace. And I understand your lady wife is helping with the memorial that the volunteers at the charity are planning. Please, extend our thanks to her.”
“I will do so, sir.”
“Perhaps you will allow me to introduce Mr. Stephen Jephson? He is one of the board of directors of the Wardrobe. He was kind enough to accompany me to the burial today.”
“Sir.” Niall gave the other man a nod.
“Sedwick,” the man said slowly. “Ah, yes. Sedwick. The artist.” It wasn’t said with a sneer, but it skated on the edge of it. “And the duke. Although that is rather a late development, isn’t it?”
“The title is,” Niall agreed easily. “Not the art. That is of long standing.”
“As is the steadfast character and brave service to his country that led to the grant of a ducal title,” Wooten said loyally.
“Please, you’ll put me to the blush,” Niall said with a laugh. He opened his mouth to introduce the inspector, but Jephson shot him a narrow look.
“Why are you here at this girl’s burial, Sedwick?”
“Because the women at the charity feared there would be no one to see Miss Foulger interred,” Niall answered. “That would be a sad, lonely shame, for a good woman to be so abandoned. My wife asked me to make sure that was not the case, and so here I am.”
“Very good of you,” Royston said.
“Thank you.” Niall turned to the newcomer. “And you, Mr. Jephson?Why are you here?”
“Because Royston insisted,” the man said.
“I always find it very interesting to see who turns up at the graveside of a murder victim,” Wooten said mildly.
Niall bit back a grin. “Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you both to Inspector Wooten, from Scotland Yard.”
Obviously surprised, Royston gave Wooten a nod. “Wooten? You are the one who apprehended Yardley, I heard. Well done.”
