The answer came too quickly.
‘I must say, Stanley, if you intend to let females run your investigation, I have very little faith in your solving anything at all. She is asking impertinent and entirely irrelevant questions.’
He gave a disdainful sniff.
‘What about your involvement with the Odd Fellows?’ Lord Stanley asked, sliding Lord Boulton’s ring bearing the Odd Fellow symbol across the desk. ‘We found this amongst your belongings.’
At that, his expression betrayed him for the briefest moment.
Then he masked it with a dry laugh and picked idly at his cuff as though the entire affair bored him, refusing to answer.
‘I suggest you do answer,’ Lord Stanley said, his tone deepening.
Boulton’s mouth tightened.
‘I have no dealings with anyone here beyond ordinary acquaintance. You have clearly been misinformed. Now release me. It is perfectly obvious you possess no evidence against me.’
‘Not yet, Boulton,’ Lord Stanley replied.
His voice cooled further—dangerously so.
‘It appears your fellowship is not quite as loyal as you imagined. Mr Hamilton has confessed.’
Boulton froze.
‘He has admitted to assisting you in Wolverton’s murder,’ Stanley continued calmly, ‘though he claims you wielded the dagger and that he acted under coercion.’
The colour drained from Boulton’s face.
‘That is a lie.’
Lord Stanley then began recounting specific details of the evening—conversations held, movements made, incidents only someone present could possibly have known. Charlotte interjected now and again to confirm certain particulars, and gradually, to her immense relief, it began to work.
Boulton’s pallor deepened.
‘He also identified you as one of the Grand Fellows.’
Sweat appeared at his temples.
‘Hamilton, as an accomplice, may receive leniency for cooperation,’ Lord Stanley went on. ‘But you, my lord, would bear the full burden of the crime.’
Boulton tugged at his cravat as though it had suddenly become too tight.
‘I... I...’
Charlotte remained perfectly still as Lord Stanley allowed the silence to stretch just long enough for Boulton’s composure to begin visibly fracturing.
Then he added, almost casually, ‘Unless, of course, there is more you would like to tell us.’
And there it was.
The break.
‘I did not stab Wolverton,’ Boulton blurted suddenly, the words tumbling out as though dragged from him. ‘Hamilton did. Hamilton was the one who stabbed him. I only helped him.’
Charlotte’s brows rose before she could stop them.
A brief silence followed whilst Lord Stanley regarded Boulton unflinchingly. The Bow Street Runners shifted near the door.
