‘You are very wise.’ But if they still had loaded pistols in the house several weeks after Lorenzo had fired one, it sounded as if they did not suspect he would turn the weapons on them. If old enemies were after them, they thought the danger would come from outside. Had they feared reprisals from Napoleon? It wouldn’t be the first time a despot had sent people to kill hisenemies abroad. ‘You mentioned Susannah Black, the maid. Do you know where I can find her?’
He nodded. ‘She’s still at the house. Julien, the newcomte, has asked her to shut the place up. He don’t want anything to do with it. Who would? The owner is going to have a devil of a job letting it again with that blood staining the doorstep.’
‘Thank you. Is there anything else I should ask you, so that I get my money’s worth?’
He chuckled. ‘So many things, love, but none of them about that murder. Good luck to you.’
With a nod to Miss Austen, Dora headed back out onto the street. Her companion joined her, putting her notebook away.
‘Helpful?’ Miss Austen asked.
‘Yes. The maid who gave evidence at the inquest is still at the house, so we go there next.’
It was only a few doors away, which gave Miss Austen no chance for further questions. Dora wished she could demand the lady stay in the tavern, but had no authority to do so, not when the client was paying for this. She had, however, to establish some rules.
‘I anticipate Susannah Black will be deeply upset over what she witnessed and likely to retain some loyalty to the family she serves. We had better not mention your cover story of you writing a book or she will think we are muckrakers digging for scandal to sensationalise in the press.’
‘Then we should tell her the truth– that my family are friends of thecomteandcomtesse. It is possible she will remember my visit last year; she will know my brother and sister-in-law.’
Dora nodded, much happier with this solution than spreading yet more lies. ‘Agreed.’
She knocked on the door of a fine terrace house which looked out over the brown waters of the Thames. The retreating tidewas leaving the muddy banks bare, barges and pleasure boats huddled in the deepest parts of the channel. The air was rank with the weed baking in the sun and the distinct odour of drains. After a pause, she could hear footsteps inside and the door opened a crack. A young woman in a mob cap peered around the edge, chain still on.
‘Yes?’
‘Susannah Black?’
The woman’s pale blue eyes grew cold with suspicion. Her skin had the papery pallor of someone who had been indoors too long, like a house plant starved of sunlight. Dora had the odd sensation that she was talking to a ghost. ‘Who’s asking?’ she whispered.
Dora introduced herself and her companion.
‘My brother and Eliza want to find out what really happened to your mistress and master,’ said Miss Austen, bumping Dora to one side. Dora didn’t bump her back but it was a close-run thing. ‘I hope you don’t mind us coming to you for help?’
Unbending a little, the maid pushed the door closed, but only so she could release the chain. ‘You’d better come in then.’
She opened the door wide enough for them to slip inside. The foyer was full of packing cases, all neatly labelled.
‘It’s only me now,’ said Susannah. ‘The carrier is coming for these tomorrow and then that’s done.’ Dressed in black with a white apron that hung off her bony shoulders, she looked as if she had missed a few meals.
‘Do you have a place to go to?’ asked Miss Austen, placing a gentle hand on the young woman’s forearm.
‘I’m going home– to Dorset. I’ve had enough of city life.’ She waved them to take seats on the cases. ‘Sorry– the chairs have already gone to the auction house.’
‘Do you remember me, Susannah?’ asked Miss Austen. ‘I was a guest of the latecomteandcomtesselast year at a musical evening.’
Susannah wrinkled her nose. ‘Truth be told, miss, I don’t, but I remember your sister-in-law. Pelisse of green merino cloth, gold buttons, ermine tippet?’ A little life was returning to the wraith-like girl.
‘You have an excellent memory. Yes, I remember she wore that– very becoming.’
‘Madame Antoinette’, Susannah’s voice shook a little at the mention of her mistress, ‘asked me to change the buttons on hers when she saw how well it looked.’
‘Susannah, we understand that you’ve told the inquest everything you knew about the incident, but would you mind repeating it to us now, along with anything else you’ve remembered since?’ asked Dora, thinking it was high time she, the professional, took over the questioning.
The maid swallowed and looked away up the empty stairs, eyes brimming. How often this grand house must have echoed with company and music and now it was home only to the shades of the departed. ‘Do I have to?’
‘Of course not– we are friends, not the law; however, it might help your late mistress if we can understand what really went on. It would give us the ammunition to counter any slander against them.’
Sharpness returned to Susannah’s expression, drying up her tears. ‘What slander? She was a good woman, she was!’ Her voice now had the snap of a birch rod to it.
