Pentecost Alley - Anne Perry [90]
Charlotte was looking for the connection. It had to be somewhere. She knew Emily well enough to tell when she was being evasive. There was guilt in every line of her body, the wide gaze of her eyes. She sat down on the seat opposite and faced her.
“Is he betrothed to anyone?”
“I don’t think so; I haven’t heard that he is.” Emily did not ask why Charlotte wanted to know. In Charlotte’s mind, that was the final piece of evidence. She was lying about something. Her fears were confirmed.
“Tallulah?” she said between her teeth. “Do you care really about her so much you would coerce me into asking Thomas to search again on her account?”
Emily blushed. “I told you, Charlotte … if Finlay is innocent, it will be—”
“Rats! You knew that badge was there, because you or Tallulah put it there! Have you any idea of what you’ve done?”
Emily hesitated on the verge of admitting or denying. She still had not given herself away, not completely.
“Augustus FitzJames does have some very ruthless enemies, you know.”
“And some very ruthless friends as well, it seems!” Charlotte said furiously. “Did you have the badge made yourself, or did you just suggest it to … Tallulah?”
Emily squared her shoulders. “I really think that as a policeman’s wife, Charlotte, I should not discuss that with you. You would feel obliged to tell Thomas anything I told you, and then I might place myself, or my friends, in an embarrassing situation. I am quite certain Finlay is innocent, and I did what I believed to be right—for him, and for Thomas. You know that the identification is nonsense.”
“What identification?” Suddenly Charlotte was less confident. Emily was certainly irresponsible, probably even criminal, and totally stupid; but it seemed she also knew something which Charlotte did not, and perhaps Pitt did not either. “What identification?” she repeated.
Emily relaxed. The sun through the morning room windows made an aureole of gold around her hair. The pleasant clatter of domestic chores sounded from beyond the door. Somewhere a girl was giggling … probably a between-maid.
“The identification of the other prostitute who said she saw Finlay there in Pentecost Alley the night of the murder,” Emily answered.
“What?” Charlotte felt her stomach tighten and for a moment she could hardly breathe. “What did you say?”
“It wasn’t a proper identification,” Emily explained. “She doesn’t really know if it was Finlay or not. She would be perfectly willing to say it was the butler, if it came to trial.”
“What butler?” Charlotte was stunned, and now confused as well. “Whose butler? Why would she say it was a butler?”
“The butler who got Ada pregnant,” Emily explained. “Which was how she lost her position and finished up on the streets,” Emily explained.
“And just how do you know that?” Charlotte’s voice dropped and became icy.
It was too late for any possible retreat.
“Because I spoke to her,” Emily replied in a small voice.
Charlotte sat down abruptly. She felt a little dizzy.
“You shouldn’t be so disturbed,” Emily said reasonably. “You and I have both involved ourselves in cases before, and it has always ended more or less right. Remember the Hyde Park Headsman—”
“Don’t!” Charlotte winced. “Have you forgotten what Jack said to you after that?”
Emily paled. “No. But he doesn’t know about this. And I didn’t do anything dangerous … well, not really. There wasn’t anybody violent around. I was only looking for information to clear Finlay. I wasn’t pressing anyone who could be guilty.”
“Don’t be idiotic!” Charlotte said. “If you clear Finlay, then someone else is guilty. It may be someone around there. In fact, it probably is. Except, of course,” she added scathingly, “since you put the club badge there, Finlay could be as guilty as Jack the Ripper. The real badge was the original one, found with the poor woman’s body. Or didn’t you think of that?”
“Yes, of course I did. But that didn’t mean that Finlay put it there!” Emily said. “We both know that he was nowhere near Whitechapel that night. He was