Page 41 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
“Well, yes.” Royston started moving again.
“And several of the board members are prominent, charitable-minded ladies?”
“Yes. And they are intelligent enough to allow themselves to be guided by the gentlemen.” He cocked his head. “And to hand over the organizational reins to someone like me.”
“Definitely not married,” said Niall.
“Mr. Royston,” said Wooten, “consider for a moment that Yardley is telling the truth. If he did not kill Miss Foulger, then who do you think might have done it?”
The man looked taken aback at the question. “How could I know, Inspector? Look, I have learned, since her death, that the girl was quite popular among the other volunteers, but I did not have much interaction with her, myself. In the normal course of things, I might never have encountered her. But once she discovered Yardley had been made a distributor, she raised a fuss.Quitea fuss.” He glanced at Niall. “I was forced to step in, meet with her, and hear her tale of his past misdeeds. I thought it prudent to bring her complaints to the board—and now you tell me that at least part of her list of accusations was false? Perhaps you will understand why I use the wordvolatile?” He turned to Wooten. “And frankly, sir, I am surprised that you would ask me such a question. Finding Glynn Foulger’s killer isyourjob. And now, I must return to mine. Good day, gentlemen.”
Niall drew to a halt and watched the man stride through the cemetery gate.
“I think he was genuinely shocked to hear that Miss Foulger had been wrong about Yardley harassing her. Don’t you?” asked Wooten.
“Yes,” Niall agreed.
“He suffered a moment’s twinge abut carrying a false tale to the board of directors, but he didn’t let it bother him long.” The inspector stared after the man. “What do you think?”
“I think he’s a genuine ass,” Niall said with a sigh.
“I rather think Jephson is worse,” Wooten mused.
“Just because he disparaged me to my face?” Niall asked withamusement. “Believe me, I’ve heard far worse.”
“No, that was foolish, but it’s not why.” Wooten pressed his lips together a moment. “I’ve been with the police for a long while now. I’ve learned much about people, and I’ve recognized some patterns. Someone who doesn’t understand kindness often is unkind themselves. And someone who is often suspicious of those around them nearly always has something to hide.” The inspector stood a moment, rocking on his heels. “Yes. I think I shall part from you here, Your Grace. I believe I will do a little digging into the background of Mr. Jephson.”
Niall shrugged. “I think that we’d better hope that Kara had more luck with the ladies. We’ll speak again soon, then.” He started toward the gate. “I’ll go and see if they have learned anything useful.”
*
Kara sat withGyda in the parlor at the charity building, holding her hand throughout the simple, touching gathering of Glynn Foulger’s friends. There were tears aplenty, tales of Glynn’s impressive sewing skills and of her willingness to teach others, tales of her humor, of her forthright wit, but mostly of her kindness.
“I know this cannot be easy for you,” Kara whispered to her friend. Witnessing the loss these women felt must bring Gyda’s own bereavement bubbling to the surface.
Gyda lifted her chin. “Actually, this is good. I need to be reminded that I am not the first or only person to lose a loved one. It’s a good, swift kick to show me that our job is to go on, remembering and carrying on with what was important to them.”
“Are you thinking of the museum?” Kara asked. Lord Charles Osbourne had achieved his long-held goal of opening a museum dedicated to the idea of human creativity. Unfortunately, he had been killed during the opening-night celebration.
“Yes. Ansel has been managing on his own, but I need to get back into the thick of it and make sure Charles’s dream lives on.”
“You know we will help in whatever way we can.”
“I do know.” Gyda sat quietly for a moment, listening to another volunteer share a memory of Glynn. When the woman finished, Gyda turned and clutched Kara’s arm. “Kara, this is all setting my brain on fire. I can’t stop thinking.”
“Of what, dear?”
Gyda glanced around. “This is a lovely way to bid goodbye to someone, isn’t it?”
Kara followed her gaze. The women and men of the Wardrobe had laughed and cried together this morning. She thought it must be healing, as well as a fine tribute to their friend. “Yes.”
“It seems to represent all that was best of Beth’s friend, but I cannot help but compare it to the somber, sad gathering that Charles’s mother held for him.”
Remembering, Kara nodded.
“Everyone followed his mother’s lead, of course, to respect her grief. They had to, I know—but Kara, there wasnothingof Charles in that sad room! None of his passion, of his love of life and the human potential for beauty and creation.”
“You are right, of course,” Kara gave her friend a small smile. “But he has you to make sure his bright-eyed wonder, his curiosity, and his remarkable ability to find beauty in even small things lives on.”
