What tosh. There was a sherry glass beside the brandy snifter on the side table.
“But you can confirm he was agitated when he returned home the night he witnessed the murder?” She didn’t give the woman time to reply. “Did he come here first, or summon a constable?”
The maid looked overwhelmed. “I … erm. He found a watchman and visited the watch-house. It’s just around the corner on Charlotte Street. From there, I think they took him to Bow Street.”
“In Mr Brown’s statement, he claims he was on the riverbank.” Daphne leaned forward and gently squeezed the maid’s hand. “I have to ask, could he have seen the killer and been too afraid to say so?”
Mr Hawke added a sprinkle of menace to the pot. “It’s important you tell us, miss. His life may depend on it.”
That’s when the first crack in the dam appeared. A tremble swelled into a wracking sob. The maid dropped her head into her hands, shoulders shaking.
Daphne knelt beside her, rubbing the poor girl’s arm. “We only want the truth. Where is Mr Brown? There’s a reason you bolted the door behind us.”
“I don’t know,” she blurted.
“When did you last see him?” Daphne tried to sound concerned, but couldn’t help thinking Mr Brown was involved in the crime.
“Two days ago.” The maid glanced up through bloodshot eyes, her distress impossible to fake. “A carriage stopped outside. There was a row. He climbed in, and I’ve not heard a peep from him since.”
Daphne looked at Mr Hawke, who wore suspicion like an old coat. She lifted her brows in silent question:What now?
He stood, dragging his palms down his thighs, the fabric pulling taut over the muscle beneath. “We’ll need to search his study.”
The maid whimpered but was quick to refuse. “I can’t let you look through his personal papers. Not without his say-so.”
“Don’t you want to help us find him?” Mr Hawke’s tone could have frozen the fires in hell. “If he saw something that night, there’s a chance the killer means to silence him.”
That earned more tears, along with a lifted brow from Daphne.
He ignored her silent plea.
“We don’t care that you’re lovers. A man was murdered. Your employer knows something he’s not told Bow Street.”
“He doesn’t. Edward would have told me.”
Well, that confirmed they were close.
The maid straightened, wiping her cheeks with the edge of her sleeve. “I’m sorry, but you must leave now.” Her voice was steadier than before, though her hands trembled. “You can return tomorrow. If Mr Brown’s back by then, he’ll speak for himself.”
Mr Hawke stood rigid. He was a man accustomed to getting his way. “If Brown is in trouble, every hour counts. At least let us search his private rooms.”
Daphne feared he might charge upstairs regardless. She crossed the room and laid a hand on his sleeve. “That’s enough for one day.”
She meant for herself and the maid.
They had a long ride back to Kingston.
“Please,” she added softly.
He looked at her, gaze sharp as a blade, and she felt the jolt deep in her belly. “Fine. But you owe me.”
The words rang like a forbidden promise. What worried her most wasn’t what he’d demand in return. It was the thought she might be tempted to pay.
She faced the maid. “Thank you. We’ll return tomorrow.”
The maid gave a shaky nod and ushered them out, nearly catching their heels as she slammed the door.
Mr Hawke wrenched the carriage door open. “Either Brown killed your father, and the Moseleys are hiding him, or he’s already dead in a ditch.”
