“You mean Viscount Hastings’s murder.” Charlie’s walking dress of pewter wool matched her steely expression. “Tell us what you know.”
“It would be best for you to hear it from the source,” Cull said.
Long Mikey stepped forward. “It ’appened like this. I was tailing ’Astings last night with Matches and me brother, Long Joe.” He gestured to the spiky-haired boy and large adult lark, respectively; the latter gave a gap-toothed smile.
“I could tell something was off with the toff from the start,” Mikey went on.
“What was off about him?” Livy wanted to know.
“’E were as nervy as a virgin on ’er wedding night. Thought it were ’is appetite for the cards and poppy’s tears that put ’im on edge and that ’e’d be ’eaded back to Limehouse. Instead, ’e took ’imself off to some shady play’ouse not far from Drury Lane called the New Cytherea. Matches, Long Joe, and I couldn’t find ’im once we got inside—too many rooms where theactressesply their trade.” Mikey’s emphasis on the word, and the way he curled his fingers like quotation marks when he said it, gave a good indication of how the New Cytherea’s players made their livings. “Then I ’eard a shot go off, toffs screaming across the street. So I run o’er, and there in the alleyway was our man ’Astings. Dead as a doornail, bullet through the chest.”
“Any witnesses?” Charlie asked.
Long Mikey shook his head. “None that stepped forward. It ’appened in the alley, like I said, so good chance no one saw anything. I managed to go through ’Astings’s pockets—’ad to be quick, mind you, last thing I needed was to be caught by some peeler—and found this.”
He placed the objects on the coffee table. Pippa had already seen the items that her friends were now examining: a miniature portrait of Julianna Hastings and a wrinkled program for a play calledThe Grove of Love.
“Look at the date.” Glory tapped her finger on the program. “The play took place at the New Cytherea a year ago. Why would Hastings be carrying an old playbill? And a memento of his wife whom he despised?”
“And who would have cause to kill him?” Livy said in a ruminative manner. “Could it be related to his gambling debts, do you think?”
“I have a list of Hastings’s debtors. They’re brutes, more apt to maim than kill,” Cull replied. “Moneylenders don’t profit from dead patrons, and Hastings was making his payments.”
“Then who murdered Hastings and why? And is it related to Lady Hastings’s death?” Pippa chewed on her lip. “I feel like we’re missing something.”
“Perhaps the dossiers will help.”
Cull nodded to Fair Molly, who brought over a portfolio to Charlie. The latter took out a stack of documents, and Pippa glimpsed addresses, numbers, and neatly organized lists.
“Allow me to summarize.” Cull clasped his hands behind his back.
Pippa didn’t know what it said about her that she found his pedantic tone stimulating. She felt a quiver in her private parts as her prince did what he did best.
“Starting with Howard Morton. Age thirty, only child of Deirdre and Laurence Morton, the latter being Jonas Turner’s cousin twice removed and a childhood friend. As a child, Howard Morton spent summers at the Turners’ country estate, and since he and Julianna were of a similar age, they were close. Rumor had it that Jonas Turner hoped his daughter and Morton might make a match of it. But Julianna met Hastings and fell for him instead.”
“Do you know if Morton had feelings for Julianna?” Pippa asked.
“On this point, I am uncertain. What I do know is that Morton attended her wedding and apparently got very drunk. And he has never married, nor courted anyone since.” Cull paused. “At present, Morton resides near Amwell, Hertfordshire. He makes his living as a schoolmaster and lives a quiet life. This will likely change now that he stands to inherit half of Jonas Turner’s fortune.”
Pippa tilted her head. “Revenge for being thrown over and greed could be powerful motives for murder. If Morton blamed Hastings for stealing away Julianna, he might have reason to kill husband and wife.”
“Agreed,” Cull said. “Morton is an important suspect…but so is Louis Wood. As it turns out, there is more to the butler than meets the eye.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she muttered. “To think, I believed he was helpful at the funeral.”
“I wouldn’t take it personally, sunshine.” Cull’s lips twitched. “It took some digging to unearth Wood’s past. He has changed his name, and for good reason: as a young man, he spent several years in Newgate for assault.”
“He is a former convict?” Charlie said sharply.
Cull inclined his head. “Wood has seemingly walked the straight and narrow since his employment with the Turners. He has no family of his own. His reputation is that of a loyal retainer dedicated to his work.”
“Even so, a butler doesn’t usually inherit half his master’s fortune,” Livy pointed out. “Perhaps Wood was playing some sort of long game.”
“That is possible,” Cull allowed. “And, if so, the end is in sight for him. I’ve learned that Turner’s solicitor has set an appointment to disburse the funds to Morton and Wood in three weeks.”
“The clock is ticking.” Charlie drummed her fingers against the documents. “Once the money is distributed, there will be nothing to keep Morton or Wood in London. With vast financial resources, they can go anywhere, do anything. They will be beyond our reach.”
“Then we better not waste any time.” Glory canted her head. “What is our plan?”
