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Bethlehem Road - Anne Perry [90]

By Root 554 0

“Oh yes!” She seemed almost relieved. “Yes, she’s in Florence. At least, the letter I got this morning was from there. She may be somewhere else by now, of course.”

“Well then?”

“Great-aunt Vespasia ... sent for me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “To discover the Westminster Cutthroat?” he said with heavy disbelief.

“Well, yes, in a way... .”

“Explain yourself, Charlotte.”

“You see, Africa Dowell is the niece of Great-aunt Vespasia’s closest friend, Miss Zenobia Gunne. And they think the police suspect her—quite rightly, as it turns out. Of course I didn’t tell them it was you!”

He searched her face for several moments and she held his gaze without flinching. She could keep a secret, sometimes, and she could be evasive, with difficulty, but she was no good at all at lying to him, and they both knew it.

“And what have you discovered?” he asked at length.

She bit her lip. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Well I made friends with Amethyst Hamilton—”

“How on earth did you do that? Does Aunt Vespasia know her?”

“No—I just lied.” She looked down at the table, embarrassed, then up again, meeting his eyes. “She and her stepson loathe each other so much they cannot even be civil, but I can’t see anything in that which could lead to murder. She’s been married for many years, and nothing new has happened ...” she trailed off.

“And,” he prompted.

“She inherits quite a lot of money, but that’s hardly a reason, especially not—” Again she stopped.

“Not what?”

“I was going to say, not to kill Etheridge and Sheridan as well, but I suppose that doesn’t necessarily follow, does it?”

“Not necessarily,” he agreed. “It could be that the last two murders were close to hide the one that matters, or they could have been committed by a copycat. I don’t know.”

She put out her hand and gently covered his. “You will,” she said with conviction, but he was not sure whether it was her mind or her heart which spoke. “We will,” she added, as if as an afterthought.

9


CHARLOTTE SET OUT the following morning on the omnibus to see Great-aunt Vespasia. It was a sparkling spring day, the air mild and the sun warm. It would be lovely to be in the country, or even in one of the fashionable squares with all the new leaves bursting and the sound of birdsong. Perhaps she and Pitt would be able to go to the country for a weekend this summer. Or longer—a whole week?

In the meantime she thought of the small things she could buy with the extra money Pitt would have. A new hat would be an excellent start, one with a very large brim, and pink ribbon on it, and flowers—big cabbage roses with golden centers, they were so becoming! One should wear it at a certain angle, up at the left and a little down over the right brow.

And she could get two or three muslin dresses for Jemima, instead of having to make do with only one best one for Sundays. Should she get pale blue, or a very soft shade of green? Of course, people said that blue and green should never be worn together, but personally she liked the combination, like summer leaves against the sky.

She employed the entire journey in such pleasant thoughts, so much so that she was almost carried past her stop, which would have been very annoying, since there was a considerable distance to walk anyway. People like Great-aunt Vespasia did not live on the routes of the public omnibus.

She climbed off with indecent haste and all but fell over as she reached the pavement. She ignored the critical comments of two large ladies in black, setting off at a very brisk pace towards Great-aunt Vespasia’s town house.

She was admitted at once and shown into the morning room, where Vespasia was sitting with a pen in her hand and several sheets of writing paper in front of her. She put them aside as soon as Charlotte came in.

“Have you discovered something?” she asked hopefully, dispensing with the formalities of greeting.

“It is as bad as we fear.” Charlotte sat down immediately. “I did not tell you before that it is Thomas who is handling the case! I was afraid Zenobia might not believe I could be open-minded,

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