Page 56 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
A dark thought wiggled its way into his head. “You don’t think that Lily—”
“Killed Glynn?” Beth’s mouth dropped open. “No! Absolutely not! When I reached for her and tried to see the embroidery under the strap, Lily grew fierce. She said it was hers. It had been meant for her. She said that her gentleman had given it to her as a gift, because she’d wanted to wear it before… before she stopped selling flowers.”
“But that could only mean—”
The tears fell. “Who else could have had that garment? It means that whoever gave her that smock is likely the killer!”
“Did she tell you who it is? Who the gentleman is, the one she is choosing?”
“No! She pushed me away. She ran away, Niall. She knows thestreets. I couldn’t catch her. But we have to find her!”
“Yes we do—and quickly.” He stood. “That smock is evidence. Wooten will want to know. He can help, get his men looking. Come on, Beth. Let’s go get them started.”
*
“Of course Ilooked into him,” Stayme said, grabbing Kara by the arm and ushering her and Gyda out of the library. “Quiet now!” He glanced back at Harold, sitting at a table, surrounded by books. “The boy is knee deep into the restoration of the monarchy. Let him think, will you?”
“You looked into Royston?” Kara asked as they all crossed into the parlor, only a little surprised, but extremely grateful.
“Well, this is not my first go-round with the lot of you, is it? I started examining the major figures surrounding the charity right after you agreed to get embroiled in the matter, but Niall asked me to look into Royston after the funeral, if you will recall. The Countess of Canfield seems to be exactly what one would expect. Her friend the Duchess of Rowledge, though? The poor woman is weighed down by her ass of a husband, who is no better than a boulder strung around her neck. Still, she manages to stand tall. I’ve no worries about her.”
“She was only just here.” Kara explained about the woman’s request.
The viscount appeared to be thinking. “Hmm. Well, I only just started in on Royston after Niall mentioned their discussion at the burial. It doesn’t make much sense for a man claiming to own multiple mills to also be employed managing a charity, does it?”
“He did tell Niall that he took the position as a favor to a friend. And now the duchess says that her husband hired him.”
“An association with the Duke of Rowledge is not the feather in his cap one might think,” Stayme said with a sniff. “The duke is mostlyknown for his gambling habits, his cruelty to his wife, and the unseemly amount of time he spends at certain specialty fleshpots in Southwark.”
“Which specialty?” asked Gyda.
“Those that peddle in young girls and boys,” Stayme said darkly.
Nausea roiled Kara’s stomach and she suddenly regretted that extra bacon. “Do you think Royston frequents such places?”
“I don’t know, but I can send my people to find out. I do know that I could not find his name associated with any bobbin mill in the Isle of Dogs. As far as I can tell, there is only one such mill in that area, and it seems to be a side business established by the Brown and Long Timber Works.”
“Then that is where we will go,” Kara declared.
“Slow down, young lady. Neither of you are going anywhere without me.”
“What?” Kara gaped. “But—”
“Nobuts,” Stayme interrupted. “You need me. If Royston is there, he’ll recognize the two of you. You will need me to distract him. Even if he is not there, you’ll get further as two workers’ rights advocates with a wealthy investor looking to sink his funds into businesses that protect and care for their employees.”
Gyda shrugged. “He’s right.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” the viscount snapped. “Did you think I developed an information network the likes of mine without being able to ferret things out myself?” Rubbing his hands together, he grinned. “I’m old, not dead, and it has been far too long since I indulged in a bit of fieldwork.”
Kara just looked at him, helpless to protest.
“Don’t worry so, girl,” Stayme said. “You’ve got Gyda for muscle and me for brains. All will be well.” He headed for the door. “Just give me a moment to prepare. This calls for a gaudy waistcoat and a jeweled walking stick.” The viscount laughed. “Oh, this will be fun.”
Not so much later, Kara was facing into the breeze as they moved at full speed on the river, heading east in a steam-powered wherry.
“It will take you near all the day to drive,” Stayme had said, dismissing the idea of the gig. “We have to get all the way to the farthest side of the peninsula. There’s a mast yard with a private dockyard just north of the timber works. We’ll try to land there. If they object, we’ll go further up to the Blackwell Stairs.”
Fortunately, the workers at the dockyard did not object to two women and an older gentleman disembarking. They assisted Kara and Gyda from their wherry with exaggerated politeness, and only a few suggestive calls came from men perched high on a crane. The three of them made their way out of the mast yard to the main road and headed south.
