Alex arched an eyebrow.“You?What proof can you offer?”
“His boots squished.”
Alex laughed.“What?”
“Ernfield came up to me as I stood on the terrace and I thought it was odd that his boots squished, which means they were wet.How do boots get wet when you are the Davenport head butler and your role is to stand indoors?So, obviously he was outdoors and the soles of his boots might still hold traces of marsh reeds and sedges.The fresh mud and grasses would link him to the salt marshes at the time Mrs.Granger was attacked.”
Alex smiled.“Thank you, Tulip.That was a clever observation.”
She cast him a delicious smile.“Shall we question Mrs.Crabbe next?Never mind about tonight’s dinner party.If we have to send word it is cancelled, my friends and family will understand.”
“No, let’s not cancel anything just yet.Let’s talk to Mrs.Crabbe first and then decide.”
They summoned the two maids to look after Mrs.Granger, and Alex repeated his stern warning.“Do not leave her side for any reason.I want the two of you watching over her at all times.No substitutions.You do not leave except on my authority or that of my wife.No one else is to come in here unless it is Mr.Carver, the magistrate, or the doctor.No one else.Is that clear?”
“Aye, Your Grace,” they both said in earnest.
Mrs.Crabbe was barking orders to her scullery maids and cooks when they strode in.“Your Graces,” she said,thwackingher meat cleaver down on the table as they approached, and then wiping her hands on her apron that held traces of animal blood on it.“Are ye needing something?Maisie’s about to bring a bowl of broth to Mrs.Granger.”
“We need to talk to you,” Alex said.“Come into my study.It won’t take long, but this is quite urgent.”
She nodded, not looking too happy about the request since they were taking her away from her supper preparations that were to be more elaborate than their usual dining fare.“Mind the pies, Annie.And Lucy, get the last of those chickens plucked.”
She lumbered after him and Tulip, and sat awkwardly once they entered his study and he offered her a chair.Obviously, she was not used to sitting in the presence of a duke, or settling into a chair of the softest leather.
As for him, he still had trouble thinking of himself as a duke.He had been proud of his reputation as London’s top investigator and sorely missed those days.“Mrs.Crabbe, tell us what you can recall about the night Elspeth Palter disappeared.”
“Elspeth?”She inhaled sharply.“Yer Grace, is there a reason to resurrect the dead?”
“The dead?”He had been leaning against his desk, his hands at his sides and loosely grasping the edge of the desk, but now straightened.“Why do you refer to her as that?”
Mrs.Crabbe paled as his gaze fixed on her.“I…well…no one ever heard from her again, did they?”
“But you know what happened that night, don’t you?Do not bother to deny it, for it is plainly written on your face.”This was not merely a shot in the dark, for Mrs.Crabbe’s first thought was to pronounce Elspeth dead while everyone else was still wondering whether she had eloped with a navy officer.“It is time for the truth to come out, Mrs.Crabbe.How many more deaths must be endured at Thornwycke because of your silence?”
She clutched her heart.“Yer Grace!I never laid a hand on anyone.Upon my mother’s grave.I am a cook.Inourishpeople, not destroy them!”
“Then tell me what you know.I give you my word that you shall not be punished for anything you tell me, so long as you were not the one who killed Elspeth or assisted in her killing.”
“A killing?Ye think someone murdered the poor girl?No, no.”She shook her head vehemently.“No one killed her.Dear Lord, is that what everyone is thinking?”She uttered a short prayer.“Please, ye cannot tarnish poor Elspeth’s reputation.She was a good girl and is meant to be in heaven.Leave it alone.Please, Yer Grace.Let her rest with the angels.”
“And you think revealing the truth will have her snatched from the arms of her angels?”Tulip asked.
“Yes, Yer Grace,” she replied, casting pleading eyes on Tulip.“You see…Elspeth jumped to her death.”
Tulip gasped.
Alex leaned forward, eager to hear more.“How?Why?”
Tulip took hold of the woman’s beefy hand and spoke to her gently.“This is not about tarnishing the poor girl’s reputation, but perhaps salvaging it.You must trust us, Mrs.Crabbe.My husband is the most brilliant man alive and the most honorable.He would never do anything cruel to her memory or to you.Nor would I.But there is a real danger lurking here at Thornwycke and it is time for this evil to be brought into light.”
After a moment of agonizing uncertainty, Mrs.Crabbe nodded.“That night Elspeth died…she did die, Yer Grace.I saw her body lying broken on the terrace.I was just a young cook in the household at the time and flirting with one of the footmen, Horace Crabbe.He’s now my husband.But that does not matter, I suppose.It was the middle of the night and even the duke’s family and their debauched guests had gone to sleep.I…”
Mrs.Crabbe began to gasp for breath.
Tulip put her arms around the woman.“Do go on,” she gently urged.
“I had spent the night with Horace and needed to get back to my own bed before others woke up and noticed mine hadn’t been slept in.Well, I was on my way back, and that’s when I saw them…yer grandfather and Ernfield.They were standing over her body and yer grandfather was in tears and utterly distraught.Why did she jump?Why did she jump?This is what he kept muttering.She agreed to become my wife, he said.”
