“Yes.”
Julia recalled the many times she’d found the inspector hard to read. That morning wasn’t one of them.
“You sound angry.”
“I am. Witnesses have been lying to me. Or withholding evidence, which amounts to the same thing. Threats, vandalism, anonymous letters, disappearances, blackmail, a suicide . . .”
“And two murders,” Armstrong said.
“Sir?” O’Malley held up a black, blood-spattered, vulcanizedglove by its cuff end. “A constable found it shoved into a laurel bush by the southwest entrance.”
Sergeant Armstrong looked at Julia’s glove. “Blimey.”
It was identical to the one O’Malley held.
* * *
Julia cut away Margot Miller’s fur-collared cape and her emerald dress. She laid her undergarments aside and thought,Good quality.
The doctor started the postmortem from the top. She combed through the victim’s hair, sponging away the dried blood and loosening leaves and twigs consistent with the debris on the maze pathway. She examined Margot’s scalp but found no evidence of a blow inflicted before the fatal wound.
Sergeant O’Malley’s description of the neck wound hadn’t been accurate. It wasn’t a slash. It was a deep, penetrating jab to the neck that had severed her jugular. The position suggested a right-handed assailant who stood behind the victim and plunged the weapon deep into her flesh. The blood would have spurted away from the attacker. And the gory, discarded gauntlet probably allowed the killer to walk away without much blood on him.
The cause of Margot’s death was a severed jugular that had led to exsanguination. Julia probed the deep, narrow gash. Then she glanced at the instruments on the table.A lancet? Some sort of stiletto?
Julia found no other wounds on the victim’s body. She finished her examination, drew a sheet over Margot Miller, and washed her hands at the sink. She looked up when Tennant came in carrying a parcel.
“Any surprises?”
“None relating to the cause of death.” Julia shook droplets from her hands and finished the job with a towel. “Whoever stabbed her used a thin, sharp instrument that cut clean anddeep. Margot was pregnant, but you knew that. I’d estimate she was about six months gone. A boy.”
“Two lives taken swiftly and brutally,” Tennant said.
“One thing surprised me.” Julia held up the pieces of Margot’s clothing one by one. “These look new, and the quality is excellent.”
“More expensive than one would expect in a shopgirl.”
“Yes,” Julia said. “Even one who supplemented her income by modeling. Mary told me the going rate is a shilling or two an hour.”
“And you found nothing in her pockets? No key to her flat or a change purse?”
Julia shook her head.
Tennant sighed. “Old Josiah Miller may have disowned Margot, but he’s still her next of kin.”
“You’ll bring him in for the identification?”
“Sergeant O’Malley is on his way to Poplar to inform the Millers. Given her stepbrother’s habit of stalking, he’s someone at the top of our list. I’d like to know his whereabouts at the time of death.”
“What about male admirers? She was a beautiful woman.”
“There’s a disgruntled lover. A merchant seaman, Arnie Stackpole by name. But he’s not the father. The timing isn’t right.”
“So, two men, since the father is someone else. The plot thickens.” Julia eyed Tennant’s package. “What do you have there?”
Tennant unwrapped the rubber glove found at the scene and placed it on the instruments table. “What do you make of it?”
“Clever. It minimizes the gore. If the attack came from behind, only the gauntlet would be spattered with blood, sparing the killer’s arm and hand. Where did you say the officer found it?”
