Добавить в цитаты Настройки чтения

Страница 51 из 56

“No!” Another wail, and Be

I kept my voice quiet as I pressed harder with the stick. “And yet, she died. I will watch you hang for it, Be

“I never killed her.” Be

His words rang with sincerity. My hope for a frantic confession evaporated. “What about Jack?” I asked. “I’m certain you had no love for him.”

Be

“Your footman. He followed you last night. You caught him, and you struck him down.”

More bewilderment. “I had no idea I had a footman called Jack. Margaret does all the hiring, with Woolwich’s approval. I have nothing to do with the servants.”

I lost my patience. “Whether you knew who he was or not, you struck him. For following you.”

“You have run absolutely mad.” Be

A liar was never more resolute than when he was telling the truth for once. Damnation.

“I might be convicted of bigamy,” Be

He folded his lips and sat back, fixing his gaze out the window.

We arrived in Bow Street in silence. Pomeroy himself, alerted by the message we’d sent before we’d gone to Cavendish Square, opened the carriage door and escorted Mr. Be

“Welcome, sir,” Pomeroy said. “You will find fine accommodations in this i

I had climbed down after Be

“Where were you going?” I asked Be

“Nothing at all to do with this,” Be

“Where?” I repeated severely.

“Tottenham Court Road.” Be

Pomeroy flicked my fingers with his. “The prisoner is mine,” he said. “When I get the conviction, I’ll stand you a pint.”

I let go. I no longer needed to hold on to Be

With Be

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I called up to Jackson to take us to Tottenham Court Road, and scrambled as quickly as I could back into the carriage.

Jackson drove us northward through Drury Lane and Bloomsbury, and we ended up on the wide thoroughfare of Tottenham Court Road. Jackson halted halfway along, as I’d asked, and I invited Grenville and Brewster upstairs with me.

I had not said a word to them in explanation. Grenville had started to berate me, then lapsed into silence. He’d learned when to leave me be.

If I were wrong, then I was. Unlike with Be

The younger surgeon, Coombs’s former apprentice, was not in, but the door to the main part of the house was unlocked, presumably so consultants could wait for his return. I thumped my way upstairs, Grenville and Brewster following, and tapped on the door at the top.

Mr. Coombs was indeed within. He peered at us with his wide brown eyes and readily invited us into his front room.

“How may I help you today, Mr. Grenville? Captain? Have you had any progress?”

Grenville said nothing, only stood back and let me speak.

“I have come to tell you that Mr. Andrew Be

Coombs’s eyes widened, and his brows climbed. “Be

“The husband of Judith Hartman, whose arm you set.”

“Ah, the poor creature you found in the river. He murdered her?” Coombs’s voice warmed. “Then I am glad I could help you discover her identity. And that you are bringing the man to justice.”

“Mr. Be

Coombs gave me a puzzled look. “Then I do not understand. I thought you said you arrested him.”

“For something else entirely. Why did you treat Judith’s arm?”

“Why?” Coombs’s puzzlement grew. “She’d broken it, and her father brought her to me.”

“Who broke it? Her husband? Or her father, in his anger?”

“I … don’t know.”

“I believe you do know exactly what happened,” I said.

I leaned both hands on my walking stick. I noticed Brewster, out of the corner of my eye, position himself in front of the door.

Coombs shook his head. “I am in the dark.”

“I believe that Mr. Hartman brought Judith here for her arm to be set—how she broke it, I am not certain. He gave you her sister’s name because he was ashamed that Judith was now Mrs. Be

“Yes.” Coombs nodded. “I explained this.”

“Be

Coombs said nothing. My heart beat swiftly. Again, I was guessing, poking in the dark, but I was certain Coombs was the key to this.

“I can always ask your apprentice,” I said. “I imagine he was here at the time, as your assistant.”

“All right, yes.” Coombs scowled at me. “Be

“Did you tell Judith this?” I asked, watching him.

Coombs lifted his knuckle and pressed his teeth into it—a habit he had—and I saw a new light come into his eyes. “Yes, I did. When she returned to me to have her splint removed, I mentioned it. I said I could furnish proofs if she wanted it. She did, and we arranged to meet again.”

I saw Grenville’s tiny start of surprise. A man who didn’t know Grenville might not observe that he was jolted; he hid it well. Brewster, as always, remained stoic.

“Did you meet her here?” I asked.

“Not here, no, indeed. In the City, near the Great Synagogue, where her people are.”

Her people rented rooms over a shop in the Strand, but I forbore to say so.

“You met her,” I said. “You told her of Be

Coombs nodded. “I felt she ought to know. She’d left her life to be with him, poor lamb. We walked from Aldgate down toward the river—I scarce noted which direction we went. And then Be

“Mmm.” I had the feeling I knew what he would say next. “What happened?”

“He was enraged. Be

Coombs stopped, letting out a long breath.

“What time of day was it?” I asked.

“Pardon? Oh … I scarce remember.”