Frederick swirled the remains of his tea in his cup. “Is she wrong though?”
“No.” The butler cleared his throat. “That household might not be as attentive as some. That doesn’t mean Mrs. Lynton did anything wrong.”
It didn’t mean that she hadn’t, either. “On the night of the murder, did any of you see anyone leave the house?” he asked.
“It’s hard to remember,” the butler said. “That was over a fortnight ago.”
Something in the man’s tone made Frederick grip his bit of lead a little tighter. “But you have seen someone going out at night. Mrs. Lynton?”
The servants gave each other uneasy looks.
“A woman and her son were murdered.” Frederick turned a pointed stare on each of them. “This is not a time to withhold the truth.”
The cook’s shoulders heaved. “I have an achy back, you see. A bit of walking does it good most nights. I figure Mrs. Lynton might have the same problem. I see her sometimes leaving her house.” She scooted forward on her chair. “But she’s not going out for the night. She’s in her night rail she is.”
“One of her people always comes out to fetch her,” the butler added quickly.
Frederick cocked his head. “Always?”
The butler scratched at a mark on the wood table. “Well, once or twice we’ve had to knock on their door. Let them know Mrs. Lynton was feeling poorly.”
Frederick swallowed. The Lynton’s front door wasn’t as closely watched as Eleanor’s servants would have him believe. And how could it be? The house wasn’t a prison. If someone wanted to leave, she would find a way.
Frederick thanked them for their time and stood, feeling like a fifty-pound yoke burdened his shoulders. The story was the same elsewhere. Mrs. Lynton’s alibi was easily punctured. Her emotional instability was well-known and her hatred of the victim likewise acknowledged.
He followed the butler out the servant’s exit, ignoring the snub, and breathed in deeply. The sky was overcast and grim, a match to his mood. Perhaps it would finally rain, but he didn’t hold out hope. There had been too many times he’d been led to believe the gathering clouds would bring relief. Too many times when hope had been dangled in front of him, only to be snatched away.
There were more neighbors to question, but how many times did he need to hear what he already knew? Eleanor’s mother had a motive to harm Lady Richford and the opportunity. And after seeing the bruises and scratches on Eleanor’s arms, he knew she had the ability as well. There was truth to the yarn that madmen had heightened strength. The same went for madwomen.
He felt dirty compiling a case against Eleanor’s mother. Then he felt annoyed. It was his job, after all. More than that, his responsibility to protect society from someone who was prone to do harm. His duty to protect Eleanor.
But he knew she wouldn’t feel the same.
Hoping to alleviate his guilt, he directed his driver to another suspect’s residence, feeling fortunate when Miss Abbott answered his knock.
“I’m leaving in twenty minutes for a demonstration on electricity,” she told him after seating herself in her large parlor. “They are going to reanimate a frog, and I won’t miss that.”
Her flat was open, the parlor and dining area sharing a space. One door led off the north side of the room to a small kitchen, peeking through the narrow doorway. Another door led from the east of the room to the woman’s private chambers, he assumed.
“I’ll make this brief.” Frederick remained standing, gripping the back of the chair before him. “My associates are currently searching for the man I learned purchased stolen jewelry from Lady Richford.” He considered jewelry obtained from blackmail the same as theft. “I am going to ask him what other women he met with. It will go better for you if you tell me you were involved in Lady Richford’s blackmail schemes than if I have to learn it from him.”
My bluff was convincing even to myself. Of course, if Miss Abbott never met with the man then it was all for naught.
Miss Abbott’s shoulders were rigid. She smoothed her hands down her skirts. Her fingers, adorned with several gold rings, dug into the fabric. “I was with Susan when she sold a necklace or two. I thought they were her own. She wanted money her husband didn’t know about, but she was scared to deal with a man of that sort on her own. She was my friend. Of course, I stood by her when she met with him.”
“How noble of you.”
Miss Abbott frowned at the sarcasm in his voice.
Surely, she couldn’t truly believe he would fall for her nonsense.
He picked up a carved ivory statue of an elephant. Two small black stones formed its eyes. “Blackmail seems to have done wellby you. A nice apartment. Pretty artwork. Days spent attending demonstrations instead of in labor.”
“I have blackmailed no one.”
“Did you let Lady Richford do all the odious work? Is that what caused the disagreement between you two?” Frederick ran his thumb over the elephant’s trunk. “There are many ways partners in crime can become enemies.”
“There was no disagreement.” She stood, her hands clenched by her sides. “Do you know how rare it is to find a kindred spirit? If I were so criminally inclined as you seem to think, to find another woman who matched my machinations step for step? Such a friend I would treasure. I would never hurt Susan.”
