'Why?'
'I'd like to meet her.'
Sir Julius shot her a look compounded of curiosity, affection and distant anger. 'Did you know that Gabriel had a wife?' he asked.
Susan did not hesitate. 'Yes, Father,' she said. 'I did.'
Alice Runciman had preserved a resolute cheerfulness in the face of adversity. Death had robbed her of her parents, her husband, three of her five children and during the Great Plague, several members of her wider family but no despair clouded her gaze. She was indomitable. Primed by his wife, Jonathan Bale knew that Mrs Runciman had a sharp eye but he had not been told about the permanent smile on her lips. Short and stout, she had a florid complexion that made her cheeks look like shiny red apples. Jonathan warmed to her at once. The name of Sarah Bale gained him a cordial welcome. They were soon ensconced in the parlour, trading gossip about the ward. The constable had to remind himself that he was there on important business.
'Mrs Runciman,' he said. 'I really came to ask about your neighbours.'
'Oh?' she replied. 'Which ones?'
'They go by the name of Henley.'
'Ah, yes. They only moved in recently.'
'What can you tell me about them?'
'Why?' she wondered, suspecting scandal. 'Have they done something wrong?'
'No, Mrs Runciman. Far from it.'
'Then why come to me? You are the second constable in one day to call here. Another man knocked on my door this afternoon.'
'That was Tom Warburton.'
'He wanted to know if a Mrs Cheever lodged here. I knew nobody of that name.'
'She lives a few doors away,' explained Jonathan. 'When she got married, Lucy Henley became Mrs Gabriel Cheever.'
'Then why call herself by her maiden name?'
'I'm not sure, Mrs Runciman.'
'Good Lord!' said the other with a chortle. 'I live that close to someone and I don't even know their real name. A fine neighbour I am!' Her eyelids narrowed. 'Why are you so interested in them, Mr Bale?'
'Gabriel Cheever was murdered earlier this week.'
'Never!'
'I was there when the body was found on Paul's Wharf.'
'Is that who it was?' she said, oozing with sympathy. 'We wondered who it might be. Mrs Gately was talking about it only this morning. She thought it might be a sailor, killed in a brawl. And you say that it was Mr Henley?'
'Cheever,' he corrected.
'He was the murdered man?'
'I fear so.'
'Heavens! Think of his wife! She's far too young and frail to bear such a tragedy.'
'Mrs Cheever is stronger than she looks.'
'There's hardly anything of her. She's such a pretty little thing. Well, who would have guessed it?' she said with a long sigh. 'Her husband was a proper gentleman. He was always so polite. Yet he was killed? Who could do such a terrible thing?'
'We are still trying to find that out, Mrs Runciman. That's why I came.'
'What can I do?'
'Tell me all you know about your neighbours.'
'That's soon done, Mr Bale,' she said, folding her arms. 'I barely knew them. They were very private people. They hardly stirred out of the house.'
'Did they have many visitors?'
'I never saw any.'
'What of their maidservant?'
'I met her in the market once or twice but she had no tongue in her head either. It was an effort to get a word out of her so I gave up trying. Neighbours should be friends, Mr Bale,' she insisted. 'Life is much easier that way. They thought otherwise.'
'They must have had good reason to keep out of sight.'
'I've no idea what it might be.'
'Did you see anything of them at all, Mrs Runciman?'
'Only on Sundays.'
'Sundays?'
'Yes, Mr Bale. They were regular churchgoers, no question of that.'
'What do you mean?'
'They were out of the house before the bells had even started ringing. I'd see them walking down the street arm in arm. They may have had some strange habits,' she went on, 'but I'll say this for them. They were true Christians.'
Jonathan thought about a crucifix nailed to a wall.
Alone in his dining room, Christopher Redmayne looked back on the day with a sadness that was tinged with pleasure. Breaking the news of her husband's death to Lucy Cheever had been even more harrowing for him than carrying the same tidings to Richmond. While the dead man's father and sister could support each other in their bereavement, his wife was completely on her own. That she somehow visited the morgue to identify the body was a tribute to her courage as well as to her love. Christopher had been moved to hear about it from Sir Julius. Yet it was what Susan Cheever had told him that really occupied his thoughts. Her unexpected arrival had been a source of joy to him and her comments about her brother's work had been a revelation. Christopher wondered if he had finally stumbled on the motive behind the murder.
Eager to stay with her as long as possible, he had sensed that he should withdraw in order to let her talk in private with her father. They had been grateful for his considerate behaviour. There was much for them to discuss and it was over an hour before they called him back into the room. Even though Sir Julius still looked hurt and betrayed, a measure of understanding had clearly been achieved between father and daughter. Christopher prevailed upon them to eat a light supper then they departed for the night to their separate rooms. When Jacob had cleared everything away, his master sent him off to bed as well, wanting to stay up for a while himself to reflect on events. The very fact that Susan Cheever was sleeping beneath his roof gave him a recurring thrill. Even in such unfortunate circumstances, she was a most welcome guest. Her bedchamber adjoined his own. When he laid his head on his pillow, he realised, he would be less than six feet away from her. Christopher picked up the one remaining candle and headed for the stairs.
A knock on his front door made him pause. He wondered who could be calling at such an hour. When he opened the door, he found himself looking at the last person he expected to find there.
'Mr Bale!'
'I am sorry to disturb you, Mr Redmayne,' said Jonathan, hands gesturing an apology, 'but I have learned something that may be of interest.'
'Come in, come in.'
'No, sir. It's far too late and I've a home of my own to get to.'
'What is it that you have discovered?'
'I spoke to a Mrs Runciman,' explained Jonathan. 'She lives close to the Cheever house in Knightrider Street. Gabriel Cheever and his wife kept themselves to themselves, it seems, though she always saw them going to church on Sundays. It was as I was leaving Mrs Runciman that I was given the news.'
'What news, Mr Bale?'
'The maidservant must have seen me as I went past the house earlier.'
'Anna? The Cheevers' maidservant?'
