He cleared his throat. “Well, I suspect Lord Havenstone wasn’t feeling too fondly towards the earl after their meeting yesterday. Perrin had a new business association he wanted Havenstone to invest in, but after losing all of the baron’s investment in their last deal, I don’t think Havenstone reacted the way Perrin wanted.”
“They fought?”
“Loudly.” He pressed his lips together. “I was in the cloak room looking for something I’d left in my coat pocket. They were on the other side of the wall in Perrin’s study. Havenstone made it clear he wouldn’t be investing with Perrin again.”
“Interesting.” I knew Lord and Lady Havenstone socially. I’d heard at one time the baron had been forced to sell some land in the north, but their habits in London society had never changed. Had the loss of that investment been a financial burden to the baron? “Do you know how much he lost?”
Mr. Evans grimaced. “It was substantial but obviously not devastating.”
“And you won’t tell me the amount?”
“I will not.”
Fair enough. If I gained access to Perrin’s study in order to write to his sons, I most likely could find the information out myself. If the earl had kept orderly records. “Anyone else here who lost money with Perrin?” I took back my previous thought. Having Perrin’s solicitor at the house was deucedly more useful than a physician. He knew all theon dit.
“Only one other, though I don’t know how much.” Evans sighed. “I was hired after the event took place and only know of it through correspondence.”
“And…?” I rolled my finger in a circle. An attorney with a looser tongue would have been even better.
“Apparently Perrin lost a sum gambling to Mr. Withers. He paid it off with the note to a tin mine he owned.” Evans sniffed. “But Mr. Withers didn’t know the mine was already played out. He wanted recompense from Perrin, but the earl refused. I understand Mr. Withers leases the land out to a wool business now.”
The wool markets were a big industry in the southwest of England. As was mining, mainly tin, copper, and silver. But with the wool industry becoming mechanized, the land for shepherding was becoming less and less profitable. The population of Modbury was smaller than the last time I’d come through it, with people moving to the cities to look for work as the factories took more and more jobs away from the countryside. Bertram had every right to be angry at Perrin.
But Perrin was his brother-in-law, as well, the husband of Bertram’s sister. Whatever differences the men might have had, they would have made allowances for it, for the sake of family harmony. And I knew Bertram was quite comfortable financially. The loss of a gambling win was hardly enough to make the man murderous.
I tapped the armrest. “My brother-in-law was not well-liked, and for good reason.” I still didn’t know why he had been trying to provoke me. What had he known or thought he’d known? “But he didn’t deserve death. Perhaps he died naturally, however, and someone stabbed him after out of misplaced anger or some misguided devilry.”
“I fear not.” Mr. Evans rose, his mournful face looming over mine. He held out his hand. “The mouse is dead.”
Chapter Seven
Henry
The mouse waslimp in his hand, a pathetic little creature. Henry couldn’t help but feel guilt over its death.
“Well, this muddles the matter.” Lady Mary stood and started pacing. “Poison could have been put in Perrin’s wine at any time, and I know very little about how poisons work. Do you?” She looked over her spectacles at him in irritation.
“Not a part of my legal education.” Poisoned and stabbed. Someone wanted to make sure the earl wouldn’t survive. Henry had known the earl for several years, first when he’d apprenticed with a senior solicitor, and then becoming Perrin’s attorney after the other man retired. He’d never particularly cared for the earl, but then, it wasn’t his job to like his clients. Only to give them the best legal service he could provide.
He looked down at the mouse. Even as disagreeable as Perrin could be, Henry still found it hard to fathom someone killing him. But the proof was in his hand.
Lady Mary picked up the decanter of wormwood wine. “I’ll make sure this goes under lock and key, then I’ll head to Perrin’s library. Perhaps he had more of an interest than we did of substances that kill and I’ll find a book on poisons.” She glared out the rain-streaked window. “If only this dratted weather would let up. I feel in this instance we’ll need a magistrate.”
Henry pursed his lips and watched her go. Which instance like this one had she felt shehadn’tneeded the properauthorities? Sighing, he went out the glass doors onto the terrace, trying to stay under the shallow overhang. The rain seemed to delight in coming at him sideways, drenching his trousers in moments. He found a large potted lily of the valley at the corner of the terrace and dug a hole in its dirt. He laid the mouse inside. The bell-shaped white flowers seemed a fitting memorial for the animal. “I’m sorry you died before your time, but your life held meaning. Or your death, at least.”
He covered the carcass, then brushed dirt from his hands.
Lady Mary was right. If they were to be stuck in this house for the next few days, they needed to discover who had killed Perrin. Either that, or lock everyone in their rooms until the constable could arrive.
He didn’t think the rest of the guests would stand for that.
Turning on his heel, he went back inside and headed to the earl’s study. Cabinets lined a side wall, with diamond-shaped cubbies built in above and stuffed full with surveyors’ maps and grant deeds. A low bookcase ran under the window on the far wall, and Perrin’s wide desk sat before the double windows looking onto the front drive.
He made a quick perusal of the contents in the desk drawers. Ink and paper. Some recent correspondence. A pair of button hooks. He pulled out a file of newspaper clippings. At the top was an opinion piece inThe Timesby Mr. Enoch Ryder railing against Lady Mary’s The Minerva Club. He flipped through the pages. All of the clippings had to deal with Lady Mary in one way or another. Efforts to shut the club down. Details of a gruesome murder that had happened within its walls. A fire. Another fire.
Henry let out a low whistle. He hadn’t thought Perrin had invested in his sister-in-law’s business, but perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps cutting out these articles was Perrin’s way of keeping track of his investment. He returned everything to their drawers and turned to the cabinets.
Henry started with the top drawer, removing the stack of documents and seating himself at the desk with the papers spread out before him. He looked for any contract or communication with any present guest and put those aside in the corner of the desk. By the time his stomach started grumbling in earnest, he’d gone through eight drawers in two cabinets.
