Chapter Thirty-Eight
LOUISA HOWARD WAS PALE AND HAGGARD, her eyes red-rimmed from lack of sleep and too much weeping. The drawing room where she received Murdoch was oppressive in the fading afternoon light. All of the mirrors had been soaped and the pictures turned around to face the wall. Black crepe ribbons festooned the fireplace and the window frames.
When he showed her the watch, she clasped it and kissed it. “Does this mean you have apprehended his murderer?”
“Not quite. It was in the possession of a tramp in police custody, but he swears he found it in the greenhouse of the Horticultural Gardens. This may or may not be true. We also have Mr. Howard’s boots. I showed them to your maid, Doris, and she is certain they were your husband’s. They were almost certainly worn by a tramp, but again we have as yet no definite proof which man this was or if he was indeed the person who murdered your husband.”
Louisa was twisting a black silk handkerchief round and round over her fingers.
“But you say you do have a man in custody?”
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
She frowned at him. “But not yet charged?”
“No.”
“I fail to understand why not.”
“Mrs. Howard, I promise you we are doing everything we can. But I cannot arrest a man unless I am certain he is guilty.”
“He had Charles’s watch and his boots.”
“We know he had the watch, but we don’t know if he had worn the boots.”
Louisa compressed her lips into a tight thin line. “Mr. Murdoch, our Lord Jesus taught us to love our enemies, but I tell you in all honesty, as each day dawns and I see my fatherless children and I feel my fatherless child stir in my womb, I am less and less able to obey those teachings.” She tugged on each end of the handkerchief. “I want to see Charles’s killer hanged. I will have no peace until I know this has happened.” Her eyes filled with tears and she wiped them harshly away. “I cannot weep any more.”
Murdoch hesitated, searching for words that wouldn’t hurt her anew. “Mrs. Howard, I understand how you feel and I would never persist in my inquiry if it weren’t necessary, but there are some more questions I need to ask you.”
“What questions, surely you know enough?”
Her voice was harsh, but Murdoch also thought he detected fear. She had gone curiously still, watching him. Oddly enough her expression reminded him of the one he’d seen on Traveller’s face. She was seeking to avoid the place where the trap was set. “Did his sins catch up with him?” Bettles had asked.
“On Tuesday, when I was here with Dr. Ogden, Mr. Drummond came to call on you. You refused to admit him. Why was that, Mrs. Howard?”
She glanced at him in surprise. This was not what she thought he was going to ask. “Mr. Drummond is no friend of mine. He was strongly opposed to Charles’s appointment as pastor of this church. I could not bear the thought he might be coming here to gloat. He can have whomever he wants now.”
“I understand Mr. Swanzey was the candidate Mr. Drummond supported.”
“Yes, he was. Fortunately, Matthew is a man of humility and piety. He was quite reconciled to the choice and was most generous in his support for Charles. Unlike Mr. Drummond, who made it plain for all to see that he despised my husband. That is why I did not admit him and have no desire to do so even now.”
“It must be difficult for you that his house is so close to yours.”
“It is. I believe he stands in his shop doorway all day long, watching us. Why, I don’t know, but it is most unpleasant.”
On his way to the house as he walked along Gerrard, Murdoch had seen Drummond doing just that.
Her anger toward the elder had enlivened Louisa and she jumped to her feet and walked over to the fireplace, stretching out her hands to the blaze.
“Is that all you wished to know, Mr. Murdoch? I must confess I am feeling very tired.”
Murdoch paused, trying to find the tactful way to ask his next question.
“There is something else, ma’am, and forgive me for the delicacy of the topic …”
He could see her back tense but she didn’t turn around.
“I repeat, sir, I really am most fatigued. I don’t think there is any more I can say to you.”
“This concerns Miss Dignam.”
Again Murdoch had the distinct impression this was not the question she expected. She glanced over her shoulder in surprise.
“I realize she has had a dreadful shock,” continued Murdoch, “and she is most upset, but I wondered if she had a special relationship with your husband.”
This question did bring Louisa about to face him. “Special? What on earth do you mean, special?”
“Miss Dignam is a spinster and perhaps has been a lonely woman. Sometimes in those circumstances, women develop fanciful notions about men such as their doctors or their ministers.”
He hated himself for putting it that way. He could almost hear Amy Slade’s voice castigating him.
Louisa Howard actually laughed. “Sarah Dignam fancied herself in love with my husband, is that what you’re getting at?”
Murdoch nodded. “So you were aware of it?”
“Of course I was. Half of the parish knew. She was making quite a fool of herself. Always coming with little gifts, waiting around after prayer meetings, coming early.
Staring at him with eyes that would put a puppy to shame.
Poor Charles, she was driving him to distraction.”
Neither Mrs. Howard’s voice nor her expression were in the least kind. Murdoch wondered why she had so little sympathy.
“Surely you don’t suspect Miss Dignam, do you?”
“I’m just gathering information, ma’am.”
“She is a pathetic old soul, but I’ve never considered her to be deranged. And why would she kill the man she adored?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, which was just as well.
Because Murdoch would have had to say that Miss Dignam might have considered herself to be spurned. And hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. That path was quicksand and not one he could in conscience explore with the widow herself. He’d have to speak to Miss Flowers.
His back was seizing up on him and he eased forward in the chair, trying not to wince.
“I won’t keep you much longer, Mrs. Howard, but there is one other matter I should tell you about.”
“Yes?” Damn, there it was again. Wary as a wild cat.
“When I was here before I asked you if your husband had any enemies. You told me about the work he did as a volunteer for the city’s charitable institution and we both thought it worthwhile questioning some of the people applying for charity who he would have visited.”
“Yes? It is of no matter now.”
“It may be more than we think. I did make inquiries specifically of the ones he had been forced to reject. This morning I discovered that one such family has died in what is probably a tragic accident.”
“Why are you telling me this? Surely it has nothing to do with my husband’s death? Poor people die all the time. He could not have been responsible.”
“I did not mean in the least to imply that he was. The cause of death was carbon monoxide poisoning. The chimney was blocked in the downstairs room and the fumes came up into their room. The downstairs lodger died as well and two other people were made quite ill.”
“I am sorry to hear it, but perhaps you can understand that my capability for sympathy is somewhat limited at the moment.”
“Of course, ma’am. But I wonder if your husband ever mentioned this family to you. The name is Tugwell, Esther and her daughter, Josie, and son, Wilfred.”
Louisa’s shock was palpable. “Tugwell? No, I never heard the name before.”
You’re a bloody poor actress, Murdoch said to himself.
“You say it was an accident?”
“It would appear to be so. As I said, the source of the carbon monoxide was the downstairs chimney. The fumes filled the house. The Tugwells got the worst of it as they were directly above.”
For some reason he couldn’t fathom, that seemed to relieve her.
“Mr. Murdoch, I realize you are only doing your duty but all this talk of death is most upsetting. I really must ask you to leave.” She leaned over and tugged hard on the bell pull. “You have your culprit and I beg you not to bother me again until you have made that arrest. Then I shall be happy to receive you.”
Doris came into the room.
“Please show Mr. Murdoch out, Doris. And I will receive no more visitors today.”
“Mr. Swanzey is here, madam. I was just about to let you know.”
Louisa looked flustered. “Yes, of course. Show him in. Goodbye, Mr. Murdoch. Forgive me if I sounded rude, it’s just …”
“I quite understand, ma’am. I will keep you informed of my progress.”
Doris opened the door and Swanzey came in. He hesitated in the doorway, but Louisa held out her hand to him.
“Matthew, dear friend. I’m so glad to see you.”
Murdoch saw Swanzey flinch, but then he hurried across to her.
Murdoch left. He felt like a hound that had suddenly hit the scent of the fox. He didn’t know where the creature was hiding, but he was sure he was on its trail.