“How strong is she? Do you think she could hold him underwater?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. But, it throws some doubt on the absolute conviction Soothcoor was the murderer. I will be finding out more. I have also discovered there is a young child here, a girl, who Mr. Montgomery taught. He’d taken her under his wing. The matron told me she was his shadow. I’m going to befriend her and see if she was spying on him when he was killed.”
“Do you think she could have been?”
“It’s possible, though I admit not probable. She has the run of the facility, it seems.”
“How old is she and why is she here?”
“I think she is between eight and ten years old. She has a port wine stain birthmark on her face. I’m told her mother sent her away after her father died because she couldn’t stand to see the imperfection in her child’s face. It embarrasses her.”
James made a sour expression.
“Yes. That is my thought as well. I need to find out who her family is. The patients and the matron on my floor just call her Miss Liddy.”
“Why did Dr. Worcham allow her in the facility if she is not ill?”
“Money, most likely. Perhaps pity as well.”
He shook his head. “—I need to see you back inside. I can tell your voice is getting that cloudiness it gets before you cough.”
She laughed. “Yes, I can feel it coming, too,” she said, pulling out her handkerchief.
He stood and pulled her to her feet and again tucked her arm in his as she walked back to the house.
“Are you going to see Mr. Ratcliffe?”
“Yes, but not today. I want to talk to Soothcoor again. I want to question his powers of observation as to what—or who—was around him as he left Camden House that day. I also want to know more about this Boyd Ratcliffe. If he is local, some people at the pub might know of him and know the tenor of the man.”
Cecilia nodded. “Do you think the magistrate will be in contact with him after your visit?”
“Perhaps. He was certainly angry enough at me. I’ll just have to take that chance and deal with whatever the outcome is.”
“Other than resting some more, I will try to make friends with Miss Liddy…And I think I want a chat with Mrs. Worcham as well.”
“Why is that?”
She shrugged. “Just a feeling. Sometimes she is a little too laughingly affable.”
James raised a brow. “Whatever you deem necessary—that doesn’t get you into trouble.”
“Me, in trouble?” Cecilia asked archly, a teasing light in her eyes as she slid a sideways glance up at him.
James groaned.
The turnkeyimmediately recognized Sir James when he rode up to the Stamford Borough Gaol—his manner deferential and eagerly accommodating.
“Warden’s to lunch, sar, over ta his howse. I be sartin you can see him thar.”
“I shall go to his house, then. Thank you,” Sir James said, repressing a smile for the turnkey’s manner.
“Ya knows where it be?”
“Yes,” James said as he headed toward the back of the gaol.
The Warden was just coming out when James came around the gaol.
“Sir James! What brings you here again?”
