Death of a Stranger - Anne Perry [94]
“I understand the restrictions,” she said hastily. “I am sure you are aware that Mr. Baltimore died tragically just over two weeks ago . . . in Leather Lane?”
“I am.” If he felt any distaste he was too well schooled to show it.
Hester’s regard for him increased. She glanced at Marielle and saw her intense interest. She was watching Boyd, and then Margaret, and then Boyd again, as if the outcome was of the greatest importance to her. Hester was filled with a fierce understanding of why Margaret longed to escape from her home and the pressure to marry suitably . . . as Marielle had done, and possibly whatever other sisters she had. She recalled some mention of a younger one, who was no doubt impatient for her turn.
Was Boyd aware of this also? Did he know he was being gently but very firmly engineered into the desired place? He looked like a man supremely able to make his own decisions. No ambitious mother, or sister, would maneuver him, of that Hester was certain. But it was Margaret’s feelings that concerned her.
“I work in a charity in that area,” Margaret went on with a candor that made Marielle wince and her husband look startled, and then unhappy.
“Really, Margaret . . .” he said with disapproval. “Gaining a little money for those who are unfortunate is one thing, but you should not become involved in any personal way, my dear . . .”
Margaret ignored him, keeping her attention on Boyd. “Mrs. Monk was a nurse in the Crimea,” she went on relentlessly. “She offers medical assistance to women who cannot afford to pay a doctor. I am privileged to give what additional help I can, as well as to raise money for the rent of the rooms and for medicines.”
“Admirable,” Boyd said, seemingly with sincerity. “I don’t see what I can contribute, beyond an offering of money, which I am happy to do. What has Nolan Baltimore’s business to do with this? He did well, but not extraordinarily so. And anyway, as you observed, he is dead now.”
Hester searched his face but saw no personal grief in it, and no trace of surprise or alarm. Neither did she see the outrage she had at least half expected.
“He was murdered,” Margaret added. “As you may imagine, it has caused some upheaval in the area, an intense police presence—”
“Of course it has!” Marielle said sharply, moving forward a step as if to come between Margaret and Hester, who represented this regrettable involvement of her sister’s. “It is completely shocking that a respectable man should be attacked in the street and done to death by the immoral and predatory creatures who inhabit such places.” She turned her shoulder toward Hester. “I don’t know why you wish even to discuss such subjects, Margaret. You never used to be so bold in your conversation.” She looked at Boyd. “I am afraid Margaret’s soft heart at times leads her into some strange, not to say misguided, avenues. . . .”
“Marielle . . .” Courtney began.
“I do not need you to apologize for me!” Margaret snapped. Then she looked candidly at Boyd before her sister could respond. “Mr. Boyd, Mrs. Monk and I have reason to believe that Mr. Baltimore may have been murdered by a business rival rather than a prostitute.” She ignored Marielle’s sharp intake of breath at the word. “And we would both be most obliged if you could tell us more of his business interests and his character as you may have heard it. Is it possible he went to meet someone he was dealing with in such a place as Leather Lane, or its environs, rather than in his customary offices?”
Hester felt obliged to interject. “We know what his family says of his business interests and conduct. I am acquainted with his daughter. But their view cannot help but be biased. What was his reputation in the City?”
“You speak very plainly, Mrs. Monk.” Boyd turned his gaze to her, and she knew instantly that he remarked it in respect, not disapproval, although the faint ghost of humor was still there in his eyes. She found herself liking him. Had she been in Margaret’s place, and had she not already met Oliver