Suddenly, he surged up out of his seat. He went to the long table under the shuttered windows where his scientific equipment was arrayed. I followed, watching as he spooned a small sample of the powder into a little crucible. He lit it and a strong, garlicky aroma filled the air.
He turned to me, his eyes lambent with a sort of savage satisfaction.
“I shall send it along to Mordecai to be fully analyzed, but this test indicates arsenic.”
I felt my heart sink a little at the words. There were plenty of good reasons for possessing arsenic, but Magda had none of them. I knew she did not use it for cosmetic purposes, nor did she kill rats. Brisbane, of course, was sensing my thoughts.
“There is only one reason to have arsenic in this quantity and in this concentration,” he said flatly. “She has poisoned someone, or at least intended to.”
“You do not know that,” I argued feebly. “Doctor Bent has not even finished his report on what may have induced the symptoms Edward suffered.”
The black eyes narrowed unflinchingly. “Then can you explain why a Gypsy laundress in your employ keeps enough arsenic to fell a battalion tucked in her spare petticoat?”
“You do not know that is arsenic!” I returned, angry. I do not know why I was enraged, only that I was. He was so eager to believe the worst of her. Perhaps I was angry with myself because I could think of no proper defense for her. Or perhaps I was angry with him for demanding one.
Brisbane folded his arms over his chest, his shirtsleeves brilliant white against the dark wool of his waistcoat. I had called without sending ahead—rather foolhardy in light of how I found him the last time I did such a thing—and found him reading quietly by the fire. He had seemed pleased enough to see me, and delighted when I told him what I had brought. But I had felt every inch a traitor.
“My lady, I know what that is, even if you do not. I will send it to Mordecai simply to confirm my own analysis. Now, sit down and tell me everything you know about Magda.”
Miserable and defeated, I did as I was bid. He rang for tea and I took a cup and a biscuit from Monk simply for something to do with my hands. Monk was careful not to make eye contact with me, and I wondered if he regretted the intimacies he had shared during my last call. He left quickly, and Brisbane did not wait for me to finish my tea before launching into his interrogation.
“How long have you known Magda?” The notebook was on the table at his side, but he did not open it.
“All my life, I think. I told you that Father permits the Gypsies to camp on his land in Sussex. Magda’s people have been coming there since my father was a boy.”
“And has she always gotten on well with your family?”
“Oh, yes. Father would pay her to tell fortunes at the harvest ball. He always bought horses from her brothers and told the tenants to buy the clothes-pegs and harnesses they made.”
Brisbane was thoughtful. There was an expression, almost of distaste on his face, as if he did not like peering too closely into their transient lives. I remembered suddenly the ragged bit of conversation I had overheard from the laundry room, and my certainty that it was Magda taunting Brisbane.
“Who is Mariah Young?” I asked.
His face did not change, at least not in any way I could define. It seemed to go flat, though, as if his features were no longer flesh and blood, but paper and ink, technically correct, but utterly devoid of animation. He sipped at his tea and then looked at me, his eyes strangely hooded. I had never seen quite that expression in them before, although his face betrayed no emotion whatsoever.
“I thought I heard someone crashing about. What is down there? The laundry?”
I nodded, my hands a little clammy. I patted them surreptitiously on my napkin.
“Mariah Young is my business,” he said evenly. “And she has no bearing on this case.”
“But you were there, talking to Magda—”
He did something then, something I had not seen him do before. He put down his teacup and brought out a little wooden box. From it he took a slim, very dark cigar. He lit it in an unhurried fashion, taking a few deep draws to make certain it was smoldering properly. He had not asked my permission, but the tobacco had a sweet, musky smell that was actually quite appealing.
“Spanish,” he said with a thin smile. “I find they help me think. Mariah Young,” he said, his tone thoughtful. He was silent a moment, as if weighing within himself how much he could or should reveal. I sat very still, trying to look more trustworthy than curious, but I did not deceive him. He simply shook his head and said, “I can only tell you that the conversation between Magda and myself has no bearing on this case except in one respect.” He blew a soft blue cloud of smoke over his head. “I think that your laundress might very well be capable of blackmail. And if that is so, it is a short step to murder, don’t you think?”
“And that is all you are going to say on the matter?” I demanded.
“That is all.” The words were softly spoken, but underpinned with iron, and I did not doubt he meant them. I would learn nothing from approaching him directly. I decided to leave it—for now. But I made up my mind that before I was done with Brisbane, I would know the full story of Mariah Young.
“How does a Gypsy teller of fortunes come to be employed as a common laundress?” he asked, taking back the reins of the conversation.
“Her people were encamped at Bellmont Abbey when she got into some sort of trouble. She became unclean, according to their laws. You see, the Gypsies believe—”
“I am familiar with the mythology,” he said dryly. Of course he was. I had deduced from my conversations with Monk and Fleur that Brisbane was extremely well traveled. Doubtless he had encountered many wanderers in his own journeys. Likely that accounted for his antipathy toward them.
“Yes, well, Magda was deemed unclean for a period of a year or two, I am not certain of the precise rules. It meant that she could not travel with them and would probably have starved. She came to me and I told her she could work for me, here in town. She has only just now been allowed to visit her brothers. They are encamped in London at the moment, and I think she may rejoin them soon.”
