“It’s a motive and place to start,” Julia said.
“It’s absurdly far-fetched to suspect that a local sweetheart or a fellow servant murdered Lizzie then traveled to London to kill her sister,” Tennant said. “No, these crimes needed someonewith resources, mobility, and accurate knowledge about the Dowling sisters’ movements.”
“A gentleman with a lot at risk if Lizzie’s pregnancy became known,” Dr. Lewis said.
“Would it be so threatening, Grandfather? Gentlemen usually find ways to deal with the problem, short of murder.”
“But Lizzie was no ordinary maid, my dear. She served in the queen’s household. That might raise the stakes for someone.”
“The question of timing is critical,” Tennant said. “Your autopsy narrows the frame.”
“Yes, someone at Osborne House last July when Lizzie became pregnant and someone on the Isle of Wight in October.”
Tennant said, “Lady Styles is preparing a list.”
“There may be more overlap than you think,” Julia said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Bertie’s yachting set treats Cowes like a private playground. The sailing season starts in the summer and stretches into autumn. Do you remember, Grandfather? His friends were staying at our hotel during our October visit.”
“Remember? I heard them returning from the yacht club in the wee hours and in their cups.”
Tennant asked, “Do you recall any names?”
“Captain Oliver Montgomery introduced himself.” Julia shrugged. “As for the others … Lady Styles can tell you who else was there in October.”
Nine chimes sounded from the mantel clock. Tennant drained the last of his ale and stood.
Dr. Lewis said, “Come back in a few days, Richard, and we’ll change that bandage again. Ogilvie has the carriage waiting for you.”
In the foyer, Julia held Tennant’s coat as he shrugged into it awkwardly. “I can’t wait to see the back of these bandages.”
“We’ll replace it soon with something easier to manage.” She handed him his hat.
Tennant frowned, brushing the crown against his sleeve and tapping the brim against his knee. Julia recognized the signs.Making up his mind about something.
He cleared his throat. “Hannah told me … that is, my housekeeper said you traveled to Kent to—”
“Something of a wasted journey,” Julia said with a slight smile. “Sergeant O’Malley told us you’d decided to resign from the Yard.”
“That was my original plan.”
“I went to Kent to talk you out of it. And there you were … or rather weren’t. You were off, sleuthing on the Continent.”
“I’m sorry.”
Julia felt her smile tighten. “No harm done. I just left with a little egg on my face.”
“Hannah said she offered you a bed—”
“I had a hotel reservation in Dover,” she said quickly.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to—”
“How were you to know?” She opened the door.
“Julia, I …” He looked over his shoulder. Mr. Ogilvie waited at the curb with the carriage. “Well, thank you for this,” he said, holding up his hand before settling his hat awkwardly with his left.
