Page 40 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
“He needed to be questioned,” Wooten said. “But I’m sure you know he denies the charges.”
“Well, he would, wouldn’t he?”
“I assume you lot will be able to make the charges stick?” Jephson asked. This time the condescension was clear.
“We will if we find that he did indeed commit the crime,” Wooten replied, unperturbed. “We have proved that he most definitely was the person responsible for the destruction of Miss Foulger’s market stall.” Royston nodded again, but Wooten continued. “We also have definitely proved that he wasnotthe person who had been harassing her.”
Royston stopped walking, shock written all over his face. “He was not?” he said in disbelief. “But Glynn… She was so sure! We dismissed Yardley because of it.”
“Erroneously, it would seem,” Niall said wryly.
Royston still looked flabbergasted, but Jephson’s scowl had deepened.
“But whowasharassing her?” asked Royston. “She told some chilling tales.”
“It’s ironic that you should ask that,” said Niall. “It seems the perpetrator was a young man who had propositioned Miss Foulger and been rejected. A young man she had managed to avoid, until you gave him the information he needed to find her at home.”
Royston blinked. “Surely you are jesting?”
“Indeed, we are not,” Wooten told him. “The guilty party said as much during our formal interview with him at Scotland Yard.”
Royston still looked shocked. He gave Jephson a nervous glance. “I don’t know what you mean. I have not the slightest notion of which you speak.”
“It was a young man who approached you in Bedford Street as you left the charity. He asked for Glynn Foulger’s direction.”
Royston started walking again, moving slowly. They all moved with him. “Yes,” he said. “Now that you say so, I think I do recall him. Several weeks ago, it was. I turned him away at first, but he was annoyingly persistent.” His head lifted. “Yes. I do remember! He said he worked for the farmer who employed Glynn in the market.”
“Did it not occur to you that her employer should likely already know where she lived?”
Royston stopped again, closed his eyes for a moment, and breathed deeply. “No. It did not, but I suppose it should have.”
“You could have saved Glynn Foulger a lot of misery, perhaps, had you thought about it,” Niall said.
“But not her life, surely?” Royston asked. “Yardley did destroy her market stall, you said. He must have killed her as well. His shoe form—there can be no denying it was the murder weapon. We all saw it.” He looked to Jephson for confirmation.
The board member did not give it. Instead, he swept a cold look over all three of them. “If you will all excuse me, I have other business to attend to. Good day to you.” He strode off, heading for the cemetery gate.
Royston looked as if he wished to hurry after the man, but he looked back to the inspector instead. “Surely Yardley did kill her?”
“The murder is still under investigation, sir,” Wooten reminded him. “But I suggest if anyone else asks for personal information about the volunteers at your charity, you should please refrain from giving it.”
“Well, it’s notmycharity, is it?” Royston asked irritably. “I am the manager, but the Waif’s Wardrobe is not my primary business.”
“What is your primary business, then?” Wooten took out his notebook and pencil.
“I am a mill owner,” Royston said proudly. “The owner of several mills, as a matter of fact. I have a bobbin mill in Cumbria.” He raised a brow. “Do you know how many bobbins the cotton-spinning mills in Lancashire alone use? Business was going very well indeed, so I opened a second mill here in London. The city has both a large workforce and the ports to recommend it. The Isle of Dogs is becoming a manufacturing center at the moment, and its position means I can easily send my bobbins to Yorkshire, Derbyshire, Nottinghamshire, and even to the mills sprouting up in the colonies.”
“If business is so good, why bother with the Waif’s Wardrobe?” asked Wooten.
“I took the position on as a favor to a friend,” Royston said. He shrugged and started walking again. “The work is easy enough. I do not have to be present every day. I have a secretary installed there to handle most of the day-to-day organization.” He rolled his eyes. “To be honest, I wouldn’t even be needed, if most of the volunteer force did not consist of women.”
Niall halted. “What would make you say that?”
Royston stopped too, and looked back over his shoulder. “I’m sure you know what I mean. Women are emotional. Volatile, even. They require direction and instruction.”
Niall snorted. “Based on that pronouncement, I will venture that you are not married, sir.”
Wooten interrupted. “Hold a moment. I had thought that the charity was begun by women. Do I have that right?” He consulted his notebook. “The Duchess of Rowledge and the Countess of Canfield?”
