“All right,” said Byron. “I suppose that might be the way to handle it.”
“You two,” came a voice.
They both turned around to see that Mr. Hardy was approaching them on the street. “I have you to thank for urging me to send for Mr. Fields. Truly, I was not thinking clearly when we spoke yesterday. I would not have had the presence of mind to have done so. So, my thanks, with all my heart.”
“Oh, of course,” said Jane.
“If I was a bit gruff with you both, you must see that I was out of sorts,” said Mr. Hardy. He sighed heavily, looking up at the tavern. “It’s all quite a blow, I must say.”
“Yes, because you and Miss Seward were close,” said Byron.
“And because you are being turned out, I imagine,” said Jane. “You must have lived here most of your life. You worked for the late Mr. Seward here before his death.”
Mr. Hardy turned back to her. “Aye. It is my entire life, everything I know, gone in one fell swoop. And the current owner is in there attempting to sell the place right away. If he has his way, I shan’t have time to pack my things before he has a new buyer for it.”
“Perhaps the new owner will keep you on,” said Byron. “Is that not often the way of it?”
“I don’t think that the men in town, Mr. Eves in particular, wish this to be a tavern after it is sold,” said Mr. Hardy.
“No?” said Jane.
“No,” said Mr. Hardy. “He claims it’s about too much drinking and carousing, but I think it’s because he wishes to serve all the tavern’s customers at the taproom of his inn.”
“Ah, that would make sense,” said Byron. “I don’t rightly care for the fellow, truly, considering he did try to kill me. I have difficulty not holding a grudge about such things.”
“Mr. Hardy,” said Jane, “where were you the night that Anne was… that she died?”
“You were about to say murdered,” said Mr. Hardy. “You still think she was, despite the fact that Mr. Fields thinks it was accidental, do you? Because I have to say, I never knew Anne to imbibe much in the way of laudanum. After the way her father got at the end, she was wary of the stuff.”
Yes, this was likely part of the reason why the late Mr. Seward had not left behind a will and testament. He’d been badly injured, and then gotten habitual about his laudanum use, even after the injury was healed. He wasted away in his opium dreams, as Jane understood.
“I see,” said Byron. “We think someone may have come up that ladder, someone who poisoned her.”
Mr. Hardy’s expression hardened. “If so, I’d lay it all at his feet.” He nodded at the tavern.
“At Mr. Seward’s feet?” said Jane. “Mr. Reginald Seward?”
“He wanted this place and now he’s got it,” said Mr. Hardy. “He stands to make quite a pretty penny on the sale of it.”
“Yes, I suppose we can see why he might be motivated to do such a thing,” said Jane.
“I have never liked that man,” said Mr. Hardy.
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t like him,” said Byron.
Mr. Hardy eyed him. “What do you know of it?”
Byron raised his eyebrows. “Well, very little, truly. Only that he was here after the death of your late master, trying to take possession of the place, and that you sent him off somehow.”
“Oh, is that what they say?” Mr. Hardy’s voice was hard, but it had an edge to it, as if he were quite pleased with whatever he had done.
Jane spoke up. “Mr. Hardy, you have not answered my question. Where were you the night of Anne’s demise?”
He turned to look at her. “Does that matter?”
“If it can be verified by someone else that you were not here, I think it matters rather a great deal,” said Jane. “You can prove you were not here when she died.”
“You think I killed Anne,” said Mr. Hardy, astonished.
