Adrian, who’d been standing by the fireplace, watching the flames dance along the top of a log, pushed his hands into his pockets and nodded. “There’s a Mr. Michael Hutchins I’d like you to keep an eye on. He lives on Riley Road with his father who owns a book shop – The Story Collector – on St. Thomas Street. Hutchins had romantic ties to Lady Eleanor, and while I’m inclined to believe he played no part in her death, I need to be sure. If he’s hiding something, I’m confident you’ll sniff it out.”
“I’ll do my best,” Murry told him.
Adrian didn’t doubt it. The task he’d given him wasn’t an easy one. If Hutchins had been involved in the murder, Adrian’s conversation with him would only have encouraged the man to get out of Town quicker.Before the authorities made the connection between him and Lady Eleanor as well.
Still…
He tilted his head in consideration.
“Sir?” Murry asked, sensing there might be more he wished to add.
“Hutchins wasn’t limping.” Adrian glanced at Murry, a little stunned he’d not made this observation sooner.
“Should he have been?”
“The flattened plants and indented ground beneath Lady Eleanor’s bedchamber window suggested whoever escaped through it fell. I’m guessing they slipped when they made a grab for the corner of the building. The foot prints left behind, one slightly deeper than the other, would indicate an uneven distribution of weight. Hutchins walked without issue when I pursued him today, for quite a long stretch, I might add.”
“So then he’s not the person you’re seeking,” Murry concluded.
“Unless he’s more cunning than I give him credit for, and he deliberately tried to mislead us by making those tracking the killer believe they were looking for someone who’s injured.”
Murry raised both eyebrows. “That would require more careful planning than most people are capable of.”
Hutchins’s ability to be so devious seemed unlikely, and yet, experience told Adrian that he’d be a fool to dismiss it. To Murry he said, “Follow him. Engage Murdoch’s people to help you if necessary. If Hutchinsis the sort of monster who did what was done to Lady Eleanor, he’ll show his true self eventually. I’m sure of it.”
Murry assured him the task would be seen to and left. Adrian frowned. Pondered all the information he’d gathered so far. One thing was certain and that was that he was missing something – some crucial piece of the puzzle that kept escaping him.
19
Bill Murdoch considered all he’d discovered today as he set off to meet with Simmons and the others. It was late, almost eleven in the evening. He’d had a busier day than usual, attempting to find proper lodgings for the children Croft had saved. All he wanted now was to relax. But the syndicate needed to know what he’d learned from the boy who’d been brought to see him.
“I don’t like having to quit my plans for the evening,” Fitzherbert said – the last member to arrive at their designated meeting place this time. “This better be more important than the woman I left in my bed.”
Everyone else grumbled their agreement. Bill already knew that a few had been forced away from card play or simply from the rest they’d been looking forward to. They’d made sure he knew they weren’t pleased by his late-night summons.
“A groom employed at The Flying Horse found a child in the stables this afternoon,” Bill said. “After giving the lad a bite to eat and coaxing some pertinent facts from him, the groom brought him to my house so I could speak with him directly.”
“And?” Simmons leaned forward, interest gleaming in his sharp eyes.
“Turns out Toby – the boy that is – was one of Wycliff’s children. He was at the house last night when it was broken into.And,” Bill added when more than one of his colleagues raised an eyebrow, “he managed to see the intruder while hiding beneath the stairs.”
“Does that mean you know who it was?” Chapman asked.
Bill shook his head. He’d not been quite so lucky. “No, but I can tell you it wasn’t Croft. The boy knows him by appearance and insisted the body type didn’t match. This was someone else, albeit a man with a cultured speech, judging from the few words the boy heard him say before the shot was fired.”
Baffled silence filled the room for a series of heartbeats.
It was Aderlay who spoke next. “In other words, Wycliff got on the wrong side of some upper-class toff.”
“It would seem so.” Bill scanned everyone’s faces. “Anyone know who he might have been dealing with?”
“Not a clue,” Fitzherbert said when everyone else nodded. “And it don’t really matter as long as it wasn’t Croft who pulled that trigger. As I’ve said before, Wycliff probably got what he deserved.”
Bill couldn’t argue. He’d personally done what he could to avoid interacting with the crime lord. Hadn’t liked him one bit.
Still, he couldn’t quite help but wonder what he might have gotten involved in. Wycliff wasn’t exactly the sort of person a gentleman stumbled across by accident. No, he’d have had to seek him out for a very specific and most likely very illegal reason. And this was something Murdoch knew Croft might be interested in, if indeed they could figure out who Wycliff’s killer had been.
It was close to mid-morning the next day by the time Adrian and Samantha managed to leave for Orendel House. First, he’d had to speak with Cummings, his secretary, regarding the building Murdoch recommended. Cummings would take a look at it. If he approved, he’d make all necessary arrangements for the purchase.
