‘Many things.’ Smith showed him a sketch of the ground floor. ‘The stairs go directly to the scullery. I can see how it was convenient to bring up the hot water, but it would also allow the gentleman to smuggle in other visitors without the wife being aware.’
Jacob nodded. ‘He wouldn’t be the first. If there was a second person present on the day of the killing, could they have escaped unseen?’’
‘I believe so. As Miss Austen astutely observed, if everyone was called to the hallway by the commotion, it would be easy to slip out the rear door and make your escape through the garden gate. That goes out to a passageway down the side, used for deliveries. A brisk walk and you could mingle with the ordinary people on the street in no more than thirty seconds.’
‘Then it is still a strong possibility that it wasn’t suicide but a third murder by another hand. But until we have any clue who the person could be– a description or even a sex– then we cannot sensibly make enquiries in the neighbourhood.’
‘No, but the family and servants might know who thecomte’s confidants were– who he would let into his room that way.’
‘It’s a ticklish thing to ask a son.’
‘Agreed. How about I seek out the maidservant, Susannah Black, and see what she will tell me?’
That was a thought. Dora had not explored this possibility when she had come with Miss Austen. ‘Is she still in the area?’
‘I believe so. The agent told me, when I asked if it was unfurnished, that the last tenant’s furniture, the belongings he did not want in his new place?—’
‘We take nothing to the grave.’
‘Quite, but he didn’t want to come out with that so early. The furniture is being auctioned tomorrow at a local warehouse. She will be there to report to Julien.’
Jacob didn’t want to stay in Barnes overnight but that meant splitting up and leaving Alex here alone. Dora would not be impressed.
‘I’ll see you to your lodgings. I expect the tavern where they held the inquest has a room– you can find out more about that in the bar. Don’t go out on your own tonight.’
Alex laughed. ‘Sandys, we’re army veterans. I’m not going to let these people get to me– and nor are you. They would be fools to come at us again.’
Jacob couldn’t have Alex playing fast and loose with his security, not when he and Dora were responsible for him. ‘I haven’t seen a great deal of sense from them, only desperation, so please heed the warning. I’ll take the next coach back from the tavern and will expect you to report in by tomorrow afternoon. Send word if something holds you up.’
Arrangements made, Jacob took an inside seat of the London-bound coach, submitting to being squeezed in between a bony clergyman and a well-padded matron. Hewould’ve preferred a seat on the roof, but they needed to keep as low a profile as possible.
As the coach rattled away, Jacob wondered if he was sitting in the same seat the murderer had occupied, hurrying away from the bloody scene. Or had they had their own carriage? Or left by boat?
There were too many questions, but he could not shake his gut feeling that Lorenzo had been killed by someone else and not his own hand. Would Dora agree?
Dora wasn’t in the office but had retired to her room. Jacob slipped past the Argus of a landlady who was fortunately gossiping with neighbours by her stove and paid him no heed. Tiptoeing upstairs in stockinged feet, boots in hand, he tried the door. Locked. Good. Dora was taking her safety seriously. He knocked gently.
‘Who is it?’
‘Me.’
There was a scuffling on the other side and the door cracked open. ‘Me? So you aren’t a crazed killer coming to shut me up?’
‘I don’t think so. I have other far more pleasurable activities in mind.’
‘You’d better come in then.’ With a smile, she opened the door, looking delectable in her nightgown and robe, hair tumbled around her shoulders. ‘What did you find in Barnes?’
Sitting propped up on the bedhead with her snuggled to his side, Jacob filled her in on the details of their visit, including the decision to leave Alex behind for the auction. ‘You approve?’
She nodded. ‘We have to take some risks, or they will have achieved their aim.’
‘I keep running the events of that bloody morning in my head, trying to see which explanation best fits. If it were a plot by the French, would thecomtenot be more suspicious of those who he invited into his home? Would he not use all his intelligence and connections to check that someone was genuinely an ally and not an enemy? He strikes me as having been too wily a man, lasting over a decade as an analyst of foreign affairs, to make such a basic mistake.’
‘But love, or passion, can blind a man to a woman’s faults. Perhaps his lover, invited upstairs for more intimate matters, was the one planted by Napoleon in his circle?’
Jacob curled his lip. ‘It does seem poor taste to have her there while his wife was next door, even if she came and went by the servants’ staircase.’
‘Then perhaps thecomteandcomtessehad an understanding that they could both play with other partners?’
