Page 40 of Evidence of Evil
“I’m not very sure, to be honest. Mr. and Mrs. Grey, from The Willows, are sniffing around for my sister’s secrets.”
Worcester felt sick.
Perhaps Mr. John saw it, even in the dim light of two candles, for he said, “You don’t know anything, do you, Worcester?”
“Such as what, sir?” Worcester managed.
“Anything that might shed some light on what happened to Miss Frances.”
“Nothing like that, sir,” Worcester lied. “I’m sure the inquest must have got it wrong, and the poor lady just fell into the lake.”
“In her nightgown?”
“It’s odd, sir,” Worcester said with what dignity he could muster. “There is no denying that it is odd. But I don’t believe all these questions are helping anyone.”
“They’re certainly not helping my father.” Mr. John went on toward the staircase. “Get some sleep, Worcester. You deserve it.”
Worcester did, and Mr. John was a kind young gentleman to suggest it. Unlike his sister, who, despite all the upheaval since, Worcester was glad to see in her grave.Rot in hell, you evil witch.
*
“I don’t thinkthere’s any malice in John Niall,” Constance said as they walked back to The Willows. “And yet…I find him a more credible suspect than I did before.”
“Why?” Solomon asked.
“Because he knows what his sister was—amoral, spiteful, and cruel.”
“We know what hesaidshe was. Perhaps he is just throwing the net wider to confuse us with suspects we might never meet.”
“You still don’t believe she was that bad?” Constance asked.
“We have very little proof either way. Only the word of Sir Humphrey and Lady Maule, and John, who might have his own reasons for deflecting us.”
“Because he is the one who killed her?”
“He told us about a lover, and a flirtation with a groom. I don’t think he likes Lady Maule being suspected, but he’s quite happy to throw others into the shadow of the hangman.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” Constance mused. “I suppose he is only helpful when we force the issue. And, when you think about it, he took our breaking and entering his family home in a veryunderstated way. He would have been quite justified in rousing the household and throwing us out. Especially when I pointed a pistol at him.”
“And yet he didn’t,” Solomon said. “I wonder why?”
“Protecting his father?” Constance suggested. She sighed. “Or himself. Have we actually learned anything at all?”
“We have a few more places to look,” Solomon said. “Which may have been his intention in talking to us.”
Chapter Nine
It was perhapsfortunate that when Solomon woke the following morning, Constance was sound asleep at the opposite side of the bed.
He had dreamed she was lying cuddled into his shoulder, which had both touched and aroused him. Even asleep, he had known those were dangerous emotions around Constance Silver. And yet this morning, he did not bolt out of bed to escape temptation. He lay still beside her and found he rather liked the strange companionship.
After a long moment, he turned over to see if she was awake, propping his head on his hand.
God, she was beautiful.
In sleep, without any artifice or humor or hiding, she moved him in quite unexpected ways. But that wasn’t why his heartbeat quickened. Beneath his hand, the bed was warm.
She really had been curled close against him. The memory of the dream intensified again. He wondered what it would be like to have her there every morning.
