I suppressed my sigh, not wanting her to hear my disappointment. I’d hoped for a new theory that would explain the disappearances, not something she’d gleaned from the latest sensationalist article in the local newspaper.
“I didn’t think about it until magicians came out of hiding,” she went on. “Then I began to wonder if the girl’s boasting had been her downfall. Now those other girls are missing…the two witches from Moray Place.”
“Magicians,” Miss Wheeler corrected her.
“Yes, of course. Forgive me. It’s difficult to change at my age.” Mrs. Carter began to cough again.
It was our signal to leave, but Oscar hadn’t quite finished. He waited for the coughing fit to end, then asked Mrs. Carter why Redmayne took a position at Mr. Kinloch’s house.
“Because the position of butler became available there,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“How did he hear about the position?” Oscar asked.
“Through my friend. She was visiting and saw how melancholy Redmayne was. She suggested he make a clean start away from the painful memories of his sweet lassie. I agreed, even though it meant losing a fine footman. She knew Mr. Kinloch wanted a butler and offered to speak to him on Redmayne’s behalf.”
“And the name of your friend?”
“Mrs. Gordon. She’s a neighbor of Mr. Kinloch’s. I knew her from our kirk. I don’t go anymore. This blasted cough…” She struggled to finish her sentence before another coughing fit gripped her.
We thanked her and the butler saw us out.
“What do you think?” I asked as we walked away.
Miss Wheeler didn’t seem to be listening as she glanced back over her shoulder along the street.
“I think Mrs. Buchanan may have inadvertently given us a piece of the puzzle earlier,” Oscar said. “She told us her sister-in-law was a zealot. If Mrs. Carter mentioned her maid’s claims of being a magician to her friend, Mrs. Gordon may have taken it upon herself to eliminate someone she considered sinful—a witch. The same with the two new abductions.”
The thought was chilling, but I didn’t think it a valid theory. “Do you honestly believe Mrs. Gordon is that cruel? That mad? She’d have to be unhinged to commit such a dreadful crime against innocent young women, one of whom is her own niece.”
Oscar’s lips formed a grim line. “I have less faith in humanity than you, Gavin. What do you think, Miss Wheeler?”
She turned to glance over her shoulder again. “I think we’re being followed.”
Oscar and I both looked behind us.
Then an enormous boom rang out over the city.
Chapter 12
My shock was met with amusement from passersby. Even Miss Wheeler chuckled, although her gaze held sympathy.
She looped her arm through mine. “It’s just the cannon, Professor.”
“Cannon?”
“A sixty-four pounder. It’s fired every day at one PM from the castle’s battery.” She indicated the direction of Edinburgh castle. “You didn’t know?”
“We only arrived late yesterday.” So had she, but she’d done her research, apparently. I felt like a fool for not doing mine. “Oscar, did you know?”
Oscar stared into the distance as he absently stroked his earlobe. He seemed not to have heard me. It was as if the cannon fire had dazed him.
“Oscar?” I said. “It was just the castle’s gun. Nothing to worry about.”
He frowned. “Yes, of course. Just the castle’s gun.” He shrugged and continued walking.
Miss Wheeler and I fell into step alongside him. Before arriving at Mrs. Carter’s house, I’d suggested calling at Waverley Station to confirm if Mr. Kinloch and Redmayne were telling the truth about the destination of his paintings—or if they were sent to London at all. If they were, they’d go via rail. Surely a porter or other employee would remember valuable paintings passing through. Such packages wouldn’t be loaded onto the trains every day.
It wasn’t far and the weather was pleasant. Once my heart stopped racing from the shock of the cannon fire, and once Oscar emerged from his dazed state, it was an enjoyable walk. I liked that Miss Wheeler continued to hold onto my arm, although it was to Oscar that she often glanced.
