Page 9 of Dark Tidings on the Thames
“I hope so,” Beth whispered. “I truly enjoy the work. I like the people who help in the charity, and I feel like I am truly making a difference.” Her spine straightened. “You can scarcely credit it, but often I have to convince the needy to accept our offerings. They fear the ties or obligations that might come with accepting help. But they are learning that I—and the Wardrobe—can be trusted.”
“Good for you, Beth,” Kara said stoutly.
“I’m so proud of you,” Gyda said, giving the girl a quick, fierce embrace.
“Glynn sounds like she was a lovely friend,” said Kara.
“She … she was.”
“The best thing you can do for her now is to answer Sergeant Landover’s questions. Once he has the information you can give him, he can hold his inquest and the police can begin to track down her killer. At the least, we can give her justice.”
Beth nodded, blinking back tears again.
“Shall I bring him in here to you?” asked Kara.
“No. He wished to speak with me there, where I found her.” Beth gripped both of their hands. “I can do it, with you helping me.”
Together, they stepped out into the churchyard. Beth’s steps slowed as they approached the spot where Glynn Foulger lay, but Sergeant Landover was busy speaking with one of the men from the nearby group.
Approaching middle age, the other gentleman wore his dark hair cropped close and his beard neatly trimmed. He looked solemn and sorrowful as he answered the sergeant’s questions. “Their relationship was definitely contentious,” he was telling Landover. “Anyone who worked here in Bedford Street can attest to that.”
“He speaks of the cobbler?” Kara whispered to Beth.
The girl nodded. “Yes. That’s Mr. Royston talking to the coroner’s man. He runs the everyday workings here at Bedford Street. He’s talking about John Yardley. Glynn didn’t like Yardley at all. She knew him from before, from when she first came to London. She told everyone that he should be run out of the Wardrobe.” Beth frowned. “I knew they didn’t get along, but I never would have thought that he could—” Shivering, she turned away from the sight of her friend.
“And who is that man?” asked Gyda, gesturing. “The one standing just beyond, watching everyone with that sour, suspicious look on his face?”
Trying to act casual, Kara glanced over to see the man listening to the other two speak. He was of average height, but broad in the chest and in the face. His hair was mostly gone, cut close to his head. Hisclothes were decent, but not fashionable, and he did indeed wear an unpleasant expression, as if he smelled something that had curdled.
Beth looked over, then quickly away again. “That is Mr. Jephson. He is one of the board members. He comes sometimes, to check up on how we are doing.”
Royston was still speaking with the sergeant. “Miss Foulger lodged a complaint against Mr. Yardley, with the board of directors of the charity.”
“You are a member of the board?” asked Sergeant Landover.
“I am. I was there when Miss Foulger accused the man of harassing her.”
“Harassing her? In what way?”
“Following her. Threatening her. Leaving nasty notes posted around the building here and in Covent Garden, where she sold flowers during the day. The final straw came when he kicked in her stand at the flower market. Destroyed it utterly.” Royston shook his head. “It was a mistake, though, as it was the property of the farmer who employed her. He raised a fuss with the police and they actually investigated it. Constables came around here, even spoke to other members of the board. That was the last straw. I had to revoke Yardley’s membership and ask him to leave the charity.”
Beth gasped. “I didn’t know that. I knew he hadn’t been about the last few days, but no one knew he wasn’t coming back.”
“He was angry when I spoke to him, to be sure,” Royston said, “But I never expected… this.”
“He hasn’t cleared out his spot,” Beth said suddenly, loudly enough to be heard by the sergeant. “His leathers, some of his needles and awls and things. He normally left some of his tools and equipment here, at his station.”
“Did he leave a shoe form there, among his things?” Landover asked with a glance toward the one lying nearby.
Eyes wide, Beth nodded.
The sergeant turned to Royston. “Is it still there?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll go look,” the man answered grimly.
“I’ll go with you,” Landover told him. “I want to see his station for myself.” He glanced over at Beth. “Can you wait here for me, miss?”
“We’ll let her sit over on the bench at the far end of the churchyard,” Gyda said.
