A sense of hopelessness swamped me, weighing me down. The magicians of Edinburgh needed to be warned.
Juliette, however, proved she was not only stoic and brave, she was also clever. “There may be a way to identify the man who took me from the garden. I managed to slip a piece of wool inside his coat pocket. It holds my magic in it.”
My hopes faded. “Your mother found it left in the garden.”
“That’s different wool. I left that behind deliberately for my family to find, but I also removed one strand and placed it into the kidnapper’s pocket during the scuffle. It may still be there. His coat was black and made of heavy wool, suitable for winter. I remember because it was odd to be wearing it in summer.”
We needed to check the coats of all our male suspects.
“We’ll begin at Kinloch’s.” Oscar signaled to the two constables to join us. “We’ll start with Redmayne.”
Miss Wheeler agreed. “Take a constable with you and round up all the coats belonging to Redmayne, Kinloch and Blackburn. I’ll take the other constable and check Jack the footman. Professor, escort Mary and Juliette home.”
“Why them?” Juliette asked.
“Since you are both local to this street, we focused our investigation here. Blackburn heard you cry out on the morning you were taken, but then retracted his statement. Jack is a suspect because of the letters, and Redmayne is named John. He also worked at a house where another woman disappeared, years ago. She was his lover.”
“Who is Redmayne?” Juliette asked.
Miss Wheeler indicated the house where the constable had been standing guard. “Mr. Kinloch’s butler. Mr. Kinloch himself is a suspect because his ancestor was the Witchfinder General.”
“That’s a tenuous connection, isn’t it?”
“It is, but it’s one we should follow up, not least because Mr. Kinloch owns a wool mill. He invested heavily in developing a new cotton-wool blend before he knew about magicians. He’s artless and his business is now suffering.”
The financial motive seemed to make more sense to Juliette than the witchfinder one. “Very well. Everyone meet at my uncle’s house. Mary, come with the professor and me, unless you have a particular desire to return to your own home.”
Mary followed her gaze to the house where she worked, squeezed between Mr. Kinloch’s and the Gordons’. “That ain’t my home. I dinnae settle in. I’m going tae resign now and go home tae me ma.” She squeezed Juliette’s arm. “Thank ye for taking care of me in there. I couldnae survived without ye.”
Juliette pressed her lips together and blinked back tears. She drew Mary into a fierce hug. “We took care of each other.”
They parted and Mary went on her way, taking the basement stairs down to the service rooms under her employer’s house. Someone squealed in delight at the sight of her and I felt satisfied that she’d be all right.
We split into three groups as Miss Wheeler had suggested, with me going to the Gordons’ house with Juliette. The door flung open before we reached it and Mrs. Buchanan burst out. She gathered her daughter into a hug as Juliette’s wall of bravery finally crumbled and she sobbed in her mother’s arms. They stayed like that, despite the rain, until Mrs. Gordon encouraged them inside. She briefly embraced her niece, only to wrinkle her nose as she quickly pulled away.
“Anderson, have a bath drawn for Miss Buchanan,” she directed the butler. “Send tea and whatever she’d like to eat up to her room.”
“I’m not going to my room yet.” Still holding her mother’s hand, Juliette swept past her aunt and ascended the grand staircase, every bit the haughty belle of the ball. Dirty clothes and messy hair notwithstanding, she was quite a magnificent sight. The kidnappers might come to regret abducting Juliette Buchanan. “Come along, Professor,” she said over her shoulder. “We’ll wait in the drawing room.”
Mrs. Gordon looked at me. “Wait for what?”
“Some of your neighbors are about to pay a visit,” I said.
She glanced at the door then to her butler, who hadn’t moved. “Send refreshments into the drawing room. Is Mr. Gordon at home?”
“He’s in his study, madam.”
“Please inform him his niece has been returned to us.”
The butler went to do her bidding, while I followed the Buchanan women up the stairs. When I glanced back, Mrs. Gordon was still standing in the entrance hall. She seemed to be in a daze as she stared directly ahead at the space where the butler had been moments earlier, clutching the silver cross brooch at her throat.
Jack the footman looked nervous as he stood in the Gordons’ drawing room, a coat over his arm. He had good reason to be worried. Although I doubted he was involved, the evidence pointed to him. No one else among the gathered neighbors was named Jack.
John Redmayne came closest. It was quite possible he’d been known as Jack in his youth. In contrast to the footman, Redmayne stood tall and erect, his physical strength on full display as he towered over Blackburn, standing beside him. The coachman was broad, however, and perfectly capable of bundling Juliette and Mary into a waiting carriage.
Mary had changed her mind and decided to come after all, in the company of Agnes, the other maid from her household. Both young women looked out of place in the drawing room in their plain black maid’s uniforms. Housemaids would usually only enter the reception rooms to clean when the family wasn’t there.
Each one of our suspects carried a black coat over their arm, some with two. Only Mrs. Gordon, Juliette, and Mrs. Buchanan sat. The men, police and staff stood, as did Miss Wheeler, Oscar and I. It was quite a crowd. All expressed relief at seeing the two abducted women safe and sound.
