There’s no use fretting about it now,she told herself.You’ve work to do.
Getting out of bed, she rang for Suzette to help her get ready.
When she arrived at Charlie’s, all the Angels were present in the drawing room…save one.
“Fi’s stuck with the Brambletons again.” Glory’s expression was rueful. “She isnothappy about it.”
“Poor Fiona,” Pippa murmured.
“Pippa, please fill us in on the de Tremblay affair,” Charlie said briskly.
Trying not to blush, Pippa described the pertinent facts, glossing over the intimate details.
Livy canted her head, her looped braids swinging against her cheek. “And you believe Ellis’s story about Mary?”
“Both Cull and I thought he was genuinely worried about his sister,” Pippa replied. “The details he gave us match what we know thus far and help us to establish a theory of the crime. According to Ellis, Mary’s financial situation improved around a year ago. That coincides with the date of the playbill found in Lady Hastings’s possession. She could have met Mary at the New Cytherea and hired Mary to impersonate her.”
“A rather diabolical plan on Lady Hastings’s part.” Glory pursed her lips. “Did she do it to get away from her husband?”
“Ellis mentioned that Mary said she’d found a ‘rich husband,’ which meant she was probably fulfilling some, ahem, unwanted duties for Lady Hastings.” Pippa grimaced. “And Lady Hastings had another reason to get away.”
“Howard Morton,” Livy said with her usual acuity. “Any news on him?”
Pippa shook her head. “According to Cull’s larks, Morton goes to work and comes home. No extracurricular activities of any kind.”
“Maybe he knows he’s being watched,” Glory put in. “Your visit probably put the fear of God in him. If Julianna Hastings is still alive, he’s likely involved in some way. By faking her own death, she would guarantee his inheritance—”
“Then they could be togetherandhave her father’s money. To her mind, that might seem like a fitting ending. A part of me understands her desperation,” Pippa admitted. “Yet nothing would justify her killing Mary Brown and hurting Ollie.”
“Or killing her husband…if she was indeed the one behind Hastings’s murder.” Livy tapped a finger against her chin. “I wonder why she didn’t just kill him in the first place. It would have achieved her goal with half the trouble.”
“Perhaps she was afraid she would get caught?” Glory suggested. “As it stands, no one can accuse a dead woman of murdering her husband.”
“Splendid reasoning, Angels.” Approval gleamed in Charlie’s grey eyes. “Your deductive skills have improved tremendously. But there are still loose ends.”
“Louis Wood,” Livy said promptly. “Is he somehow involved?”
“According to Cull’s surveillance, Wood was let go from his position last week when Hastings’s distant relation took over the townhouse,” Pippa said. “Wood has taken up rooms in a lodging house in Chelsea. At night, the larks have trailed him to various gin palaces and theatres, but he’s done nothing incriminating.”
“Woodisa former criminal,” Livy pointed out. “What if he is in cahoots with Lady Hastings? He gains a fortune out of this, after all.”
“Wood’s involvement makes sense,” Pippa agreed. “While Lady Hastings might have been able to fool her indifferent husband with a double, Wood has known her since she was a girl. He would have noticed something amiss…unless he had a reason to turn a blind eye.”
“Wood is shaping up to be a prime suspect,” Charlie said with a nod. “In the meantime, let’s have a look at Mary Brown’s residence.”
They waited until dark to go to Mary Brown’s flat, located above a butcher shop in Cheapside. Livy and Glory kept watch while Charlie and Pippa took the back stairs up to the flat. Using a pair of hairpins, Pippa unlocked the door. The sweep of their lamps showed that the modest two-room flat was unoccupied.
Charlie swiped a finger along a table, leaving a trail in the dust. “It appears no one has been here in a while.”
“I’ll take a closer look at the bedchamber,” Pippa said.
The room had an eerie quality. A collection of wigs hung on hooks, looking like a creepy wall of scalps. When Pippa opened the scratched wardrobe, its colorful innards burst out. The array of costumes included that of an Egyptian queen and a faerie’s wispy dress.
“You were good at disguising yourself, weren’t you, Mary?” Pippa murmured.
Pippa sat in the wobbly chair in front of the dressing table, which was cluttered with assorted jars and containers. She uncapped one of the perfume bottles; Lady Hastings’s signature scent wafted out. The table had three drawers, two filled with grooming implements. Opening the third, Pippa found a collection of handwritten notes…recipes for cosmetics. For everything from rouge to lip stain to hair tonics.
She leafed through the recipes, stopping at one.
