The Cater Street Hangman - Anne Perry [63]
Charlotte stared at Sarah when Emily had gone.
“You can’t do any more,” Sarah said quietly. “And honestly, I don’t think Ashworth had anything to do with it. It’s just Mrs. Abernathy’s imagination. Don’t worry about it. Good night.”
“Good night, Sarah. And thank you.”
Chapter Eight
ON THE SECOND of October, autumn rain cooling the streets, Maddock knocked on the withdrawing room door after dinner and came in immediately. His trousers were splattered with rain, and his face was gray.
Edward looked up, opened his mouth to question his behaviour, and then saw him. He stood up sharply.
“Maddock! What’s the matter, man? Are you ill?”
Maddock stiffened and swayed a little on his feet. “No, sir. If I might speak to you outside, sir?”
“What is it, Maddock?” Edward obviously was afraid now, too. The room was silent.
Charlotte stared at them, cold knotting up inside her.
“If I might speak to you in confidence, sir?” Maddock asked again.
“Edward,” Caroline said very quietly, “if something has happened, we shall have to know. Maddock had as well tell us all as leave us in suspense.”
Maddock looked to Edward.
“Very well,” Edward nodded. “What is it, Maddock?”
“There has been another murder, sir, in an alley off Cater Street.”
“Oh, my God!” Edward went sheet-white and sat down hard on the chair behind him. There was a low moan from Sarah.
“Who was it?” Caroline said so quietly she could barely be heard.
“Verity Lessing, ma’am, the sexton’s daughter,” Maddock answered her. “A constable has just come from the police to tell us, and warn us all to stay in the house, and not to let the maids out, even into the areaway.”
“No, of course not,” Edward looked stunned, staring into the room blindly. “Was it the same—?”
“Yes, sir, with a garotting wire, like the others.”
“Oh, my God.”
“Perhaps I had better go and check all the doors again, sir? And close the shutters on the windows. It would reassure the women.”
“Yes,” Edward agreed absently. “Yes, do that, please.”
“Maddock?” Caroline called as he turned to leave.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Before you do, please bring us a bottle of brandy and some glasses. I think we could do with a little—help.”
“Yes, ma’am, certainly.”
A moment after he had brought them in and left there was another clatter outside as Dominic came in, shaking the rain off his jacket.
“Should have taken a coat,” he said, looking at his wet hands. “Didn’t expect the change.” His eyes moved from their faces to the brandy and back again. “What’s the matter? You look awful! Come to think of it, there were people all over the street. Mama?” He frowned, peering at her. “Grandmama’s not ill, is she?”
“No,” Edward answered for Caroline. “There’s been another murder. You’d better sit down and have some brandy, too.”
Dominic stared at him, his face blanching. “Oh God!” He drew in his breath and let it out. “Who?”
“Verity Lessing.”
Dominic sat down. “The sexton’s daughter?”
“Yes.” Edward poured him some brandy and passed the glass.
“What’s happening?” Dominic said bewilderedly. “Was this in Cater Street, too?”
“In an alley just off it,” Edward replied. “I suppose we must face it; whoever this madman is, he is someone who lives here, near Cater Street; or else he has business here, some reason to come here regularly.”
No one answered him. Charlotte watched his face. All she could think of was her overwhelming relief that he had been home all evening, that this time when Pitt came—as she did not doubt he would—there would be no questions for Papa.
“I’m sorry,” Edward went on. “We can no longer pretend it is some creature from the criminal slums invading us by mischance.”
“Papa?” Emily said tremulously. “You don’t imagine it could be—could actually be someone we know, do you?”
“Of course not!” Sarah said sharply. “It must be someone quite deranged!”
“That doesn’t mean it isn’t someone we know.” Charlotte painfully gave expression to the thoughts that had been forming in