Doyle brooded for a long moment as he stared at his notes, then let out a sigh.
“Very well. You and I shall pay a visit next door.” Doyle stood and motioned for Darius to join him.
“Please stay here.” Darius told Meredith and Mrs. Petersham. “We do not know what we will encounter there. If it is dangerous, I do not want either of you in harm’s way.”
What he actually feared was a body or something equally horrendous being discovered. He did not want Meredith to have such a vision in her memories.
He and Doyle walked around the street corner to the street behind Knightley. Doyle knocked on the door of the Crell house. It took several minutes before someone answered. Darius recognized the man as the butler, Dobbs.
“May I help you?” Dobbs asked. His gaze then slid to Darius and his brows lowered. Darius didn’t miss the man’s reaction to him.
“My name is Howard Doyle. I am an investigator with the Bow Street Runners. This is the Duke of Tiverton. I have been informed by him that a crime has been committed on this property.”
“What? No crime has been committed here.” Dobbs lifted his chin and frowned.
“Nevertheless, I have a duty and a right to investigate such matters. I believe there is evidence of a crime buried in your gardens. Kindly move aside.”
Dobbs was forced to let them into the house. Darius had only been inside the Crell house once before, many years ago, but it seemed most of the furniture had been sold off, and that which remained had been covered with white dust cloths. Darius’s skin crawled as he felt that distinctive empty feeling of an abandoned dwelling.
“Show us to the gardens,” Doyle commanded. The butler led them to the back door. No one else seemed to be inside the house except the curmudgeonly butler, confirming his suspicion that the servants were either in the country with Crell or they’d been let go, leaving Dobbs to finish whatever tasks Crell had set to him.
“Where did you see it?” Doyle asked Darius. He kept his tone quiet as they walked toward the back garden wall.
“It was here.” Darius pointed to a spot of soil that was freshly turned over. He glanced up at own home over the garden wall, seeing Meredith’s window.
Doyle looked to the butler. “Where do you keep your gardening tools?” The man pointed to a garden shed in the corner of the garden.
Once armed with shovels, Darius and Doyle removed their coats and rolled up their sleeves to dig.
After several fruitless minutes, Doyle plunged his shovel into the soil and leaned on the handle, eyeing Darius with worry.
“We’re nearly twice as deep as you said you dug last night, and we still haven’t found anything.” Doyle wiped his brow with his forearm, his face solemn.
Darius dragged a handkerchief over his own face to clear it of the sheen of sweat. The cloth and the bag of jewels he discovered last night were gone.
“I swear on my soul they were there, Doyle.” He couldn’t have dreamed that he’d climbed the wall last night or dug up that cloth. The smell of blood and death had been so fresh in his mind, even this morning. His stomach still ached from leaping to get back over the wall from last night. And, of course, Meredith had been there. Then how…?
“Mr. Dobbs, where are your master and mistress?” Doyle asked the butler.
Dobb straightened, his face a mask of austere pride.
“They retired to the country. I’ve been instructed to close the house down and sell the remaining furniture.”
“Are there any plans for them to return to London?” Doyle asked.
“I do not believe so,” Dobb said with an arrogant sniff. “The master mentioned the house would soon be sold.”
Doyle watched the man carefully as he continued his questions. “What of Mrs. Crell? I understand she was an invalid.”
“She is much improved and is the one who wished to move to the country.” Dobbs explained.
“Was your mistress blonde or dark-haired?” Darius asked as he remembered what Meredith had asked Warren the day before.
Without hesitation, Dobbs replied that she was dark-haired.
Darius thought for just a moment he saw a flash of something in the butler’s eyes as Doyle turned back to face him.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. We must leave.” Doyle took hold of the shovels and returned them to the shed. Darius retrieved their coats from the ground and met the butler’s gaze once they were alone.
