“She befriended the Dowling girls at FitzGerald’s request, exposing him to questions about his relationship with Lizzie. They met ten years ago in Ireland and had a brief affair. It resumed on the Isle of Wight.”
Dr. Lewis said, “It’s hard to imagine his elderly cousin agreeing to employ a former mistress.”
“FitzGerald made up a story about orphaned daughters of an Irish brother-at-arms who died in the Crimea. In her diary, Brigid confessed to feeling guilty about the lie, but she was glad to be saved from a life on the Curragh.”
Lady Aldridge shook her head sadly. “My kindhearted old friend would have been easily persuaded. I wonder about the girl, Lizzy. Was she really a danger to Major FitzGerald?”
“I wonder, too,” Tennant said. “She was uncommonly close to Princess Louise. Perhaps he feared Lizzy might confide in her.”
“It’s strange …” Dr. Lewis struck a match and drew on his pipe stem until the bowl glowed red.
His sister looked at him curiously. “What is, Andrew?”
“FitzGerald made good on his early promises to Lizzy, finding a place for her and her sister.” He shook his head. “People are a strange mix of things, even the worst of us.”
Lady Aldridge said, “To contract for the murders of your lover, unborn child, and elderly cousin, and the attempted murder of your wife … Heis‘the worst of us.’ It was a tragedy that FitzGerald ever crossed paths with the Dowling sisters.”
“Brigid’s diary is a long record of tragedies,” Tennant said. “One Irish family’s sorrows. When I reached her narrative’s halfway point, Paddy O’Malley said to me …” Tennant looked away and into the fire.
Lady Aldridge said, “What did my friend, the sergeant, say?”
“He said it was ‘a tale told ten thousand times’ across Ireland, a story of poverty, eviction, and displacement.”
“Like ‘wild geese set loose on the winds,’” Lady Aldridge said softly.
Dr. Lewis looked at his sister quizzically. “Caroline?”
“That’s how the sergeant once described leaving Ireland,” Lady Aldridge said. “Julia told me, and the poetic phrase has lingered in my mind.”
“He’s a man of parts, Sergeant O’Malley,” Dr. Lewis said.
Lady Aldridge nodded. “His parents died during the Hunger. Julia said he brought his siblings to England when he was little more than a boy himself.”
Tennant looked at her. “I didn’t know that. But Julia would.”
She smiled. “Yes.”
Lady Aldridge planned to stay with her brother until Julia’s return, so she walked Tennant to the door. She planted the point of her ebony walking stick, placed both hands on its ivory crown, and faced him. Like Julia, she was a tall woman, erect despite her years.
“You haven’t been to Windsor to see Julia?”
Tennant shook his head. “Meetings all day, tying up loose ends. Tomorrow morning, there’s another conference scheduled at the Home Office. And then …”
And then, he thought bitterly, seething with frustration. Sir Richard ordered him to leave for the Isle of Wight the following afternoon. The queen insisted that a new coroner’s jury be convened immediately to change the open verdict in Lizzy Dowling’s death to one of murder.
Lady Aldridge raised her eyebrow. “What then, Richard?”
“I travel to Cowes tomorrow afternoon to give evidence on Friday morning. At the command of Sir Richard Mayne and the queen.”
“Julia knows this?”
Tennant nodded. “We … we’ve exchanged telegrams.”Christ, how pathetic it sounds.
Lady Aldridge offered her hand. “Don’t let it drag on too long, Richard … and I don’t mean your trip to the Isle of Wight.”
The following morning, the home secretary rapped his conference table for attention.
Mr. Gathorne-Hardy eyed the three men at the table. “What I want to know is this: is the evidence strong enough to send that blackguard to the gallows?”
