Page 31 of Murder on Black Swan Lane
“About how to keepmyneck from being stretched several more inches,” he snapped back.
“Pffft.” His friend waved off the comment. “Unless Griffin has found new evidence at the church, there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that you will swing for the murder.” He took a large bite of bread topped with beef and chewed thoughtfully. “He hasn’t, has he?”
“Not to my knowledge.” Wrexford sunk deeper into the leather cushions. Suspect or not, the crime was now like a thorn rubbing against raw skin. “But I thank you for your overwhelming concern.”
“No need to be sarcastic,” responded Sheffield. “I haven’t been frittering away the hours in idle pleasure.” Setting aside his plate, he rose and sauntered to the sideboard to refill his glass. “It turns out you were right to be curious about Lord Robert Canaday.”
CHAPTER 7
Wrexford sat up a little straighter. “Now you have my attention.”
“I thought I might.” Sheffield took a swallow of wine.
“Ye god, you should have pursued a career on the stage,” he groused. “You bloody well play a dramatic moment to the hilt.”
“While often overacting the role of court jester,” conceded his friend. “Now, about Canaday—word around the gambling salon last night was that Canaday and Holworthy did indeed know each other. Holworthy was also a member of The Ancients, and they shared an interest in religious poetry.”
“Interesting,” murmured Wrexford.
“Yes, but even more interesting is the fact that they apparently had a recent falling-out. One of the gamesters heard that there was quite a shouting match between them, and it ended with Canaday threatening the reverend with violence.”
“Over what?”
“No one seemed to know.”
“Well done, Kit.” Finally, a lead that felt as if he wasn’t just chasing after shadows. “I think I shall have to pay Canaday a visit.”
“I thought you might say that.” Sheffield looked very pleased with himself. “I’ve learned that he engaged to dine at White’s with Yarmouth tonight. After their meal, they will be playing whist with Fielding and Barbury in the card room.”
Wrexford angled a look at the mantel clock. He had a few hours to spare, and he found that the solitude of his laboratory and the precise focus needed to perform an experiment often stimulated sudden moments of clarity concerning other problems.
The mind, he had discovered, worked in strange ways.
“Excellent. I shall plan on meeting him there.”
“Would you care for company?” asked Sheffield casually.
“By which you mean you want me to pay for your supper.”
“A man can’t live on thanks alone.”
That provoked a laugh. “You look to be living quite well on the largesse of my wine cellar and kitchens.”
“You can afford it.”
“Leave me in peace for a few hours and I shall consider it. I have a few things to attend to in my laboratory.”
Sheffield drained his glass. “Then I shall return anon.”
* * *
“A moment, Canaday.” Wrexford caught up with the baron as he and his friend turned down the corridor to the card room. “Might I have a word with you?”
“I’m engaged for a game of whist right now,” answered Canaday. “Perhaps tomorrow—”
“It won’t take long,” interrupted Wrexford. He indicated one of the side rooms. “And I’d rather not wait until tomorrow.”
The baron frowned, but after a slight hesitation, he signaled for his friend to go on without him. “Very well. I can spare a moment. But no more.”
