“No.” Locke blew out his breath. “Have you asked Hollister? As I told you, whatever bad blood had arisen between Cedric and Westmorly, for a time the three of them were spending time together experimenting with electricity.”
“I intend to question Hollister again. Despite his avowal, I think he’s not telling me everything.”
“His explanation of the romantic rivalry may not have been truthful,” said Charlotte. To Nicholas, she explained, “He told the earl that Lady Julianna had chosen him over Cedric because she felt they connected on a spiritual plane.”
“He’s a bloody liar,” said Nicholas. “Cedric was entranced by Lady Julianna, and from what I saw of them together, she felt the same way.” A pause. “Though to be honest, I found her intensity a little frightening. It . . . well . . . it worried me.”
That a twin might resent anyone interfering with that special bond of blood was understandable, mused Charlotte. Which was all the more reason why she needed to be able to talk to Lady Julianna herself.
The earl’s unhappy expression indicated he knew what she was thinking. “As I said, I’ll question Hollister again.”
She didn’t envy Hollister the experience.
“And I’m also anxious to have a chat with Westmorly,” continued Wrexford. “I asked Sheffield to delve a little deeper into the fellow’s affairs, so perhaps he’s already uncovered something useful.”
The earl then turned his attention back to Locke. “Now, let’s talk about some of the gentlemen scholars at the Institution who have been serving as mentors to the Eos Society—starting with Justinian DeVere.”
Locke appeared puzzled. “Mr. DeVere? I don’t know what to tell you, sir, save that he encouraged us to express our opinions on the various lectures we heard, and was very patient in answering questions and providing further guidance on what books might be of interest.”
“It was DeVere who first spoke to your group about electricity, wasn’t it?” asked Wrexford.
“Yes.”
“And he talked about von Humboldt’s experiments on his own body?”
“Yes,” confirmed Locke. “Along with mention of Aldini experiments and Galvani’s work in medical electricity—that is, electrical current and the human body. At the end of his lecture, he provided a list of scientific readings on the subject.”
Charlotte frowned. She had heard of Aldini and Galvani, but it was her impression that their ideas were on the cusp of quackery.
“At our next meeting,” continued Locke, “Cedric raised a number of questions about Galvanism, which DeVere answered in great detail—and proceeded to explain why he thought both theories, while intriguing in the abstract, were fundamentally flawed.”
“So DeVere didn’t encourage further experimentation with medical electricity?” asked Wrexford.
“On the contrary, sir. As we were all leaving the study room, I heard him advise Cedric that it was a waste of time and intellect to delve any deeper into readings on Galvani.”
The earl fingered his chin, and took a moment to consider what he had just heard. “What about Lord Thornton?”
Locke appeared nonplussed. “You mean the marquess?” He pursed his lips. “He gave a lecture to us several weeks ago, but to be honest, I don’t recall the subject matter—though I’m certain it wasn’t electricity. To my knowledge, Cedric wasn’t acquainted with him.”
“John Children says otherwise,” replied Wrexford.
Charlotte watched her cousin lift his shoulders in a helpless shrug. “Then he knows more than I do, milord.” A pause. “I swear it.”
She believed him. He seemed to have shaken off the fuzzy-witted lethargy of the previous visits and now understood that his life depended on finding the real murderer.
Theclack-clackof the gaoler’s hobnailed boots announced their visit was nearly over.
“You must think more about Westmorly and Thornton,” she counseled as the steps grew louder. “Anything you heard orsaw of their interactions with Cedric, no matter how insignificant it might seem to you, might be a clue we can follow.”
“I—I shall try, Charley.”
Keys jangled, sending a shiver down her spine. The lock released.
Wrexford turned and left the cell without a further word, forcing her to hurry after him.
She wanted to think they were making progress, but the reptilian blackness of the corridor seemed to wrap around her like a serpent and squeeze such optimism from her bones.
They needed more than hope. They needed proof.
