“He wasn’t the right man, then?” she asked.
“I think that Warwick may, indeed, be the killer,” Benedict said. He followed Amity through the door. “But he’s disappeared again.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Houston said. She closed the door.
Logan and Penny were waiting in the doorway of the study.
“What do you mean, he’s disappeared?” Logan asked.
Before Benedict could respond, he was interrupted by a frantic banging on the front door.
“What on earth?” Mrs. Houston opened the door again.
A young out-of-breath policeman was on the front step.
Mrs. Houston beamed. “It’s you, Constable Wiggins. Nice to see you in the daylight. Did you get some sleep this morning?”
“Yes, Mrs. Houston, thank you.” Wiggins looked at Logan. “I’ve got good news, sir. Constable Harkins found the driver.”
“What driver?” Amity asked. Then her eyes widened. “Good heavens, do you mean the driver of the killer’s carriage?”
“Yes, ma’am,” the constable said. He grinned. “We’re getting somewhere now, aren’t we?”
“Maybe,” Logan said. “Where is the driver?”
“According to Harkins, he spends his free time in the Green Dog. It’s a tavern near the docks.”
“Summon a cab, Constable,” Logan ordered.
“Yes, sir.”
The constable took out a whistle and hurried off toward the far end of the street.
Benedict looked at Logan. “I’m coming with you.”
“Glad to have you along,” Logan said.
Twenty-seven
His name was Nick Tobin. He reminded Benedict of a terrier—small, wiry and probably very fleet of foot. But he wasn’t running now. He was more than pleased to talk to Benedict and Logan—for a price. He pocketed the money that Benedict placed on the table, took a long pull on his ale and told his story. It was not a long tale.
“Aye, a gennelman ’ired me to drive his carriage for him,” Nick said. He wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his well-worn coat. “Said he was meeting a lady who didn’t want to be seen in public with him. That’s the way it is with some of them high-class whores. But I expect you gennelmen know that.”
Benedict tamped down his anger. “The lady mistook the carriage for a cab.”
“Well that’s ’ow it was supposed to work,” Nick said patiently. “I was to make it look like she was getting into a cab. How was I to know she was a lunatic?”
“What made you think she was mad?” Benedict asked.
“Cut me customer up somethin’ terrible, she did.” Nick shook his shaggy head. “Never saw the like. Blood all over those fine cushions. A real shame. Then she jumped out and ran off hollerin’ like a madwoman.”
“What happened to your fare?” Logan asked.
“When the bint ran off the customer flew into a right panic, I can tell ye that much. He screamed at me to get him away from that street. Naturally I did what he said to do. Not like I wanted to hang about, either.”
“Where did you take him?”
“As soon as we was away from the madwoman I opened the trapdoor in the roof and asked him where he wanted to go next. Imagine my surprise when I saw all that blood.”
