She dipped her head and fished her bread from the bowl with trembling fingers. She’d kill him. Mark had assured her that the barrister would solve everything. The barrister had assured her as well. She hadn’t had time to research the legal system, not with the work she’d been doing on the side, unnoticed by her brother—small jobs to bring in an extra few pounds here and there. Legal issues had mattered little to her daily life other than to keep them from debtor’s prison.
“We will stop there Friday, then find your brother new counsel,” he said.
Perhaps she should stop there today.
As if reading her mind, he gave her a sardonic look and said, “My source said your barrister is out of town on business. He’ll be back Friday. We’ll retrieve your money. I’ve dealt with his sort before.” His brows slashed together as he focused back on the papers before him.
Marietta nodded and determined to read the legislation herself tonight. She shouldn’t just take Gabriel Noble’s word either.
“A more important matter than the barrister, we need to discover how your brother came to be standing over a dead woman’s body. I am working on getting us into Cold Bath Fields, but it may take another day or two.”
He checked something off on his page without looking her way. Good thing, as her heart had stopped beating.
“I need you to distract Archibald Penner today, so we can learn as much as possible about that night, at least from an outsider’s perspective. I need you saucy, not vengeful, in order to get the information we need. We can get your brother’s story later.”
Her heart started thumping again. He didn’t believe her brother innocent yet, she could tell by the tone of his voice, but if he could get her into Cold Bath Fields to see Kenny, she could forgive him much.
“Thank you.”
He looked up and just watched her with those unnaturally bright eyes for a few moments before looking back to his papers. “Just distract Penner.”
Archibald Penner answered on the second knock. He was a square man, too square, as if lines had been drawn from shoulder to hip, his body fitting itself to the mold. He had sandy blond hair and brown eyes, which while not especially sharp, held a spark.
“Mr. Penner?” Noble asked, an easy smile on his face, his features somewhat obscured and softened by a low slung cap.
“Yes?”
Noble stuck out a hand. “Nathaniel Upholt, from theTimes.We’d like to do a piece on your capture of the Middlesex murderer.”
Penner’s square shoulders puffed back and two spots of color appeared in his cheeks as he vigorously shook the proffered hand. “Come in, come in.”
Marietta followed Noble inside. Her first impression of Penner’s house was that it was…fastidious. Too many perfectly framed pieces, no spare bits of color or style. Geometric. She looked again. Square. Everything was squared away, just like Penner himself.
“This is my assistant, Miss Klein. Don’t mind her. She’s more for display,” Noble whispered in a stage voice.
Marietta didn’t know whether to be offended or amused. And what was he thinking? Nathaniel Upholt was a real journalist. Noble didn’t seem to understand the importance of that, though, as he calmly retrieved an ink pot, quill, and paper.
Penner gave her a once-over and licked his lips. “Nice, nice.”
In her low cut outfit she wasn’t surprised she warranted a second look from a man with a taste for shopgirls. Noble had given her cosmetics to apply, and they made her look surprisingly different. They hadn’t turned her into a raging beauty, but they had softened her harsh angles and made her look halfway alive again. Her eyes were longer and more almond-shaped, her cheeks and lips brighter, the shadows and pale features covered by the brightness.
“Have me commendation right here.” He gave her what she assumed was a coy look. “A real upstanding member of London.”
Marietta kept her mouth from falling open. Sure enough, there on the wall of his study was a framed piece of paper with a scrawled commendation from the head of the watch. They really had tried and convicted Kenny without so much as a peep of a trial.
“And the reward bill. Even looks like the brigand.”
Marietta looked at the framed handbill with its vague drawing of a man sporting a serious scruff. Nothing like Kenny’s baby cheeks. The reward proclaimed the sum of fifty pounds to anyone who apprehended the murderer.
“Planning to use the money to do good works. You can print that.” He pointed to Noble’s poised quill.
“What type of good works?” Marietta had to ask, despite Noble’s warning glance.
“Oh, this and that. Make sure the lads at the pub have a round or two.”
Noble gave her a look that promised death should she continue her line of questioning.
“Now, where were you when you realized you had the Middlesex murderer in your grasp?” Noble asked, his tone both flattering and curious.
