Gabriel caught the gleam of satisfaction in Daventry’s dark eyes. A quest for truth and justice was something theyshared. But how could justice prevail when those sworn to protect it were corrupt?
“The last few weeks have been full of surprises,” Gabriel said. “None more so than this.”
“Corruption usually begins at the top.”
“I assume we have the Home Secretary’s approval.”
Daventry grinned. “We have the King’s approval.”
“Do you want me to enter alone and mention the evidence? Hope he tries to offer a bribe. You could listen from the door.”
This devil had been manipulating events for over twenty years, ruining lives while lining his pockets, presenting one vision while hiding another.
“That won’t be necessary,” Daventry said. “We found documents buried in the grave at Wynbury Hall. Mrs Culpepper’s insurance policy.”
“If her plan to take a new identity abroad failed?”
“Once they’d placed the headstone, no one would have looked there.” Daventry glanced at the steps of Bow Street Magistrates’ Office. “And there was a foiled attempt to free Mrs Culpepper from Newgate last night. My men waited until she looked heavenward and gave a relieved sigh before pouncing.”
Let her rot. He’d make certain they all paid for what they’d done to Olivia. “I wish I’d been there to witness it.” But he’d been at home with the woman he loved, memorising the feel of her skin, the sound of her laugh, the way she whispered his name in the dark.
“You’ll be there to witness the shock on Sir Basil’s face when he realises the game is up. I’m confident it will be just as satisfying.”
Sir Basil was leafing through a case file when SergeantReid showed them into the cluttered office.
He stood, a show of deference to Gabriel’s position. “Ah, Lord Rothley. I trust all is well, now that sorry business is behind you.” He acknowledged Daventry with a nod and gestured for them to sit. “You’ll be pleased to know Reverend Clay gave a detailed confession last night. The man has been preaching politics from his pulpit for years.”
“After hours, I presume.”
“Yes, it seems his bid to help the needy extended to secret meetings at St Luke’s by night. The watchmen had seen some strange goings-on but failed to report them. And the sexton had his suspicions.”
Gabriel’s temper simmered beneath the surface, but he remained composed. “The sexton?I’m not sure I’d give much weight to a drunkard’s ramblings.”
He saw it then, the slight tremble of the magistrate’s lip.
“Perhaps not, but it all leads to the same theory.”
“Any news on the person who killed Mrs Hodge?” Daventry asked.
“Yes, good news.” Sir Basil reached across his desk and handed Daventry a signed document. “Robbery was the motive. A man who frequents The Bear was caught trying to sell stolen goods. Among them was a locket Mrs Hodge had kept. You’ve the murderer’s confession in your hand.”
Daventry read it but didn’t hand it back. “We’ve had some luck ourselves. However, it may mean questioning the suspects and witnesses again. To determine who’s lying.”
The magistrate’s brows rose. “I can’t speak for your men, Daventry, but I’ve heard the confessions from the principals themselves.” He gave a small shrug. “I’m in no doubt who’s at fault here.”
Daventry didn’t blink. “Nor are we.” He paused, lettingthe silence stretch, just long enough to carry the hint of accusation. “We have the guard in custody. He arranged to have arsenic added to Sir Randall’s broth. And he smuggled Mrs Culpepper out of her cell with the kitchen delivery.”
With puffed cheeks and a deep frown, Sir Basil tried to look confounded. “Why is this the first I’m hearing of it? Still, I’m not surprised. The guards in Newgate are underpaid and overworked.”
“Spoken like a true revolutionary,” Gabriel said.
“All suspects and witnesses have been moved to a secure location.” Daventry delivered the line like a man who’d watched countless liars squirm. “The documents recovered from the grave at Wynbury Hall confirm who will be charged with murder and sedition, and who might receive a lighter sentence.”
Gabriel watched Sir Basil carefully. No flicker of surprise. No outrage. Just the measured silence of a man calculating the damage.
“Grave? Documents? You went to Wynbury? I said my men would search the suspect’s property.”
Daventry shrugged. “I answer to the Home Secretary. I imagine a detailed look at your property portfolio might offer some clues. As will the list of bribes you took to sow division in government.”
