How odd, she thought. Copley’s coat hadn’t looked dripping wet, and yet there seemed to be a large puddle on the marble. Her shoe was soaked. Looking down to avoid another mishap, she took a careful step....
Only to see her sole leave a streak of blood on the pale marble.
“Don’t dawdle,” chided Wrexford in a taut whisper, but as his gaze followed hers, he fell silent.
Charlotte dropped to a crouch and immediately spotted the body shoved up against the wooden back of one of the desks. The man was lying facedown.
“The killer knew what he was doing,” said Wrexford, after avoiding a dark rivulet of blood that snaked across the tiles and making a quick examination of the body. “The thrust was precisely aimed. It’s not easy to avoid a rib.” He fingered the rent in the victim’s coat. “The blade looks to have been a rather wide one . . . but never mind that now.”
She watched as he gingerly turned the man over. The sightless eyes were open, the white gleaming bright despite the gloom.
Wrexford leaned in closer and let out a grunt of surprise. “It’s Fenwick Alston.”
“H-how do you know that?”
“The scar on his cheek. It’s exactly as Sir Darius’s friends described it.”
“Fenwick Alston. But . . .” Charlotte shook her head. “But that makes no sense. Surely he’s one of the ringleaders, so why—”
He pulled her to her feet. “Never mind that now. We need to leave, and quickly. Strip off your bloody shoes until we’re outside. I’d rather that the body isn’t found until morning.”
They retraced their route to the lower storage room without incident and were soon deep within the maze of alleyways leading back toward Mayfair.
Wrexford appeared in no mood for conversation, and Charlotte didn’t press him. At the moment, there was naught but a single question echoing inside her head.
What the devil is going on?
CHAPTER 27
“Griffin wasn’t at all happy at being informed that he and his men will find a dead man within the inner sanctum of East India House—and that you suggested he have the corpse taken to Henning,” announced Tyler as he entered the breakfast room. He peeled off his gloves and poured himself a cup of coffee before adding, “Though judging from his querulous tone, my guess is he hadn’t yet had his breakfast.”
“Nor have I,” said Wrexford. It was only an hour or two past dawn, and his mind was a little muzzy. He gulped down another long swallow of his own dark brew, hoping to scald his senses to full alert. “Shirred eggs and toast will be out in a moment.”
“Griffin asks that you send him a note explaining what happened.”
The earl refilled his cup and blew away a plume of steam. “He will have to be patient. I’m not prepared to tell him anything for now.”
Tyler took a seat at the table. “Do you think Copley killed Fenwick Alston? By your account, there wasn’t much time for him to do it after he left you.”
“He could have done it on his way in. The two of them could have quarreled over strategy, and Copley decided his partner had become a liability,” mused Wrexford. “But it does seem out of character.”
“Then perhaps we need to think more about David Mather,” said the valet. “Given what Sir Darius and his friends told you, the fellow may not be an underling, after all.”
Wrexford pursed his lips. “That occurred to me, as well. In retrospect, he, of all people, was in a position to know that his cousin had discovered the fraudulent accounting going on within the East India Company. In fact, Henry Peabody might well have confided in him.”
“And then, suspecting that Annie Wright knew about it, too, he lured her to take refuge on an East India merchant ship with a promise of escaping danger,” suggested Tyler.
Finally, the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together.
“It makes sense,” he agreed. “Mather has gained an expertise in finance, which makes him very useful to an illegal consortium. More than that, handling money for the wealthy and privileged has likely made him both jealous and ambitious to enjoy the same luxuries. I doubt that it would have been difficult to seduce him.”
Breakfast arrived, and the earl leaned back as Tyler helped himself. “Once you’ve filled your gullet, head down to the dockyards and see what other information you can gather on the merchant ship’s departure. It would be helpful if someone can confirm that Mather wasn’t on it.”
Tyler sighed through a mouthful of broiled kidney. “No rest for the weary.”
“I don’t pay you to sleep.”
Another mumbled comment, which Wrexford pretended not to hear. He reached for a piece of toast.
