Pentecost Alley - Anne Perry [79]
Emily made a quick guess at what she meant.
“She didn’t tell us,” Emily said aloud. “It was all dealt with without any of the rest of us knowing, until it was too late. Did you really see the man who killed her?”
“Yeah.” Rose shifted position slightly, easing herself backwards. “Why? Wot’s it ter you? Yer know ’im? It were some toff from up west.”
“We work up west,” Emily pointed out. “Did you see him clearly?”
“Yeah, more or less.” Rosie’s eyes narrowed. “Why’d you care?”
Emily made another guess. They had not much to lose.
“We hoped you hadn’t, not to know him for sure, beyond question, because we hoped it might be our butler. You see, he’s done it again, and this time he might have been caught, if anyone had believed Ada then.”
Suddenly they had Rose’s true attention.
“D’yer reckon? I’d love to get that swine, fer Ada. Bleedin’ bastard.”
“But are you sure it was this other man?” Emily said doubtfully. “Did you hear him speak?”
“Nah! Jus’ saw ’im goin’ past like.”
“Could it have been our butler?”
“Yeah, course it could. Were ’e out that night?”
“Yes,” Tallulah said quickly. She was still standing rigid in the middle of the floor, as though to move might bring some catastrophe on her.
Rose let out her breath in a long sigh, her eyes bright.
“Geez, I’d love ter get that son of a bitch. Maybe it were ’im? We could nail the sod proper!”
“What about what you’ve told the police?” Emily asked.
Rose shrugged. “Don’t matter. I in’t said anythin’ in court yet. They can’t do me fer it. I didn’t swear ter nuthin’. It were just me and one rozzer in an ’ansom. I thought it were ’im, now I’m not sure. Nan in’t sure anyway, so I’m only goin’ wi’ ’er.”
Tallulah let out her breath in a long, silent sigh. At last her shoulders relaxed a little, although her back was still stiff and her feet rooted to the spot.
“Thank you,” she said with passionate sincerity. “Thank you very much.”
When they were outside again they walked rapidly back along Old Montague Street without speaking, or even looking at each other, until they reached the corner of Osborn Street and turned down towards the Whitechapel Road. Then Tallulah stopped abruptly.
“We did it,” she said almost in a squeak. “We did it!” She threw her arms around Emily impulsively and hugged her so fiercely that for a moment Emily could not draw breath. “Thank you! Thank you more than I can say! Not just for helping me to defend Fin, but for showing that it wasn’t really evidence against him.” She let go and stepped back a bit, her eyes bright with tears. She sniffed. “If you hadn’t had the courage, I’d still be at home pacing the floor, or out at some wretched party, pretending to enjoy myself, and all the time worried sick he’d never prove he was innocent.”
“Then let us go and address the next problem,” Emily said resolutely. “If Finlay is not involved, and there is no charge brought against him, then your father will have you married to the next suitable person whose admiration you attract. Are you prepared for that to happen?”
“I shall probably have to be,” Tallulah replied, the happiness draining out of her. “Jago really does despise me. I’m not being falsely modest, you know.”
“Then we must change that,” Emily declared, too elated with her victory to consider defeat in anything. “Or at least we must try.” She started walking again towards the church of St. Mary’s and Tallulah followed reluctantly.
They reached it just as the Reverend Jago Jones came out and almost strode past them, so intent was he upon his errand. It was only that Emily stopped and let out a cry that drew his attention. He swung on his heel and stared at her.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked with concern puckering his brow.
She was startled by his face, then instantly knew she should not have been. She had expected something blander, handsomer, less urgently alive. She had expected someone she could manipulate and outwit. Instead she faced a man whose intelligence she knew instinctively and whose will would not easily be subverted by flattery or irrelevance.