The Frost Fair

    'I'm not sure that I feel any,' he admitted. 'Henry Redmayne never struck me as a violent man but there's evidence enough to arrest him. That speaks volumes. You can hardly expect me to feel sorry for a man I think might well be a killer.'

    'Put yourself in his brother's place. How do you think he feels?'

    'Low and dispirited.'

    'Is that all?'

    'No, I daresay that he's been badly shaken by this business. Mr Redmayne is a decent man who deserves better than to have something like this happen within the family. It will cause him great pain. He'll be mortified.'

    'That's why you must call on him.'

    'It's not my place to do so, Sarah.'

    'You're his friend.'

    They were in the kitchen of their little house in Addle Hill. Sarah was seated at the table, sewing a pretty blue dress with deft fingers. In warmer weather, she took in washing to help the family finances but winter found her leaning much more on her skills as a needlewoman. It was something she fitted in around running the house, looking after two children and caring for a husband whom she loved dearly even when she disapproved of his actions. Her opinion on the matter in hand was dictated by her fondness for Christopher Redmayne. She simply could not accept that any brother of his would commit such a terrible crime as murder. Notwithstanding the arrest, she clung to the belief that he must somehow be innocent.

    Still sewing away, she raised questioning eyes to Jonathan.

    'Did you hear what I said?'

    'Yes, Sarah.'

    'I know what Mr Redmayne would do in your place.'

    'Do you?'

    'He'd be knocking on our door to offer you his help.'

    'What possible help can I give?'

    'You're an officer of the law. You can advise him.'

    'I doubt if he'd even agree to see me.'

    'How do you know if you refuse to call on him?'

    'It's not as simple as that,' he said, running a ruminative hand across his chin. 'There's more to this than you understand, Sarah. If it was merely a question of going to a friend in need, I'd be there now. But his brother is accused of murder.'

    'Does that make Mr Redmayne a criminal as well?'

    'No, but it does oblige me to think carefully.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'I'm deeply involved in this investigation. It was our son who found that body in the first place. Richard keeps asking me when I'm going to arrest the killer.'

    'That should not stop you going to Fetter Lane.'

    'But it does, Sarah,' he argued. 'Don't you see? I'm gathering evidence that may lead to the conviction of Henry Redmayne. What will people think if I'm seen helping the brother of the accused man?'

    'Since when did you worry about what people thought?'

    'I have to keep an open mind.'

    'Mr Redmayne would expect no less of you, Jonathan.'

    'Then it would be safer if I kept well away from him.'

    'Why?' 'Because there'd be no complications then.'

    Sarah put her sewing aside. 'You disappoint me, I must say.'

    'What do you mean?'

    'I never thought that you could be so selfish.'

    'It's not selfishness, Sarah. It's commonsense.'

    'Oh, is that what it is?' she said with light mockery in her voice. 'It sounds more like putting your own needs first, Jonathan Bale, and I'm ashamed of you for doing so.'

    'I have to do my duty.'

    'And don't you have a duty towards a friend as well?'

    'It's not the same thing.'

    'So it seems.'

    'I'm in an awkward position,' he explained. 'I'm searching for evidence that will lead to the prosecution of Henry Redmayne and you want me to go running off to the one person in London who is trying to defend him.'

    'You see it your way, I see it mine.'

    'If I arrived on his doorstep, Mr Redmayne would feel embarrassed.'

    'No, Jonathan. You would. And that's what really holds you back.'

    'It would be wrong and it would be foolish.'

    'My parents once told me it was wrong and foolish of me to marry a shipwright named Jonathan Bale,' she recalled with a wistful smile. 'But I listened to my heart instead.'

    His tone softened. 'Do you have any regrets?'

    'None at all - until now.'

    'Sarah!'

    'Yes, I know. I'm a woman. I couldn't possibly understand.'

    'That's not what I was going to say.'

    'What's the point in talking about it?' she asked, taking up her sewing again. 'You tell me that you must keep an open mind but it's shut tight against sympathy or reason. You pay no attention at all to me.'

    'I do, I promise you.'

    'I see precious little sign of it.'

    'There are some decisions I can only make on my own.' He gave a smile. 'Did your parents really say that it was wrong and foolish of you to become my wife?' 'They thought it would never last.'

    'We proved them wrong.'

    'In some ways,' she conceded. 'Prove me wrong, Jonathan.'

    'You?'

    'Show me that you're not the fair-weather friend that you seem.'

    'Now, that's unjust!' he protested.

    'Is it?'

    'Yes.'

    'Mr Redmayne is waiting for you.'

    'Then he must wait in vain.'

    'Why is that?' she challenged. 'Are you going to let him down?'

    When she plied her needle again, Jonathan felt as if it were piercing his brain.

     Susan Cheever had always liked her brother-in-law. Lancelot Serle was a willing, affable, tolerant man who was passably handsome and never less than impeccably dressed. He had none of the arrogance that wealth often brings and he was endlessly obliging. Ordinarily, Susan would have been pleased to see him again but circumstances militated against her. Serle had come to take her away from the city and put distance between her and Christopher Redmayne. It made her fretful. She gave her brother-in-law only a muted welcome. Sir Julius Cheever did not even bother with a greeting.

    'Where, in God's name, have you been?' he demanded.

    'We were delayed, Sir Julius,' replied Serle with a shrug of apology.

    'I can see that, man. I wanted you here by mid-morning and it is well past noon. Are there no clocks in Richmond? Or have you lost the ability to tell the time?'

    'We reached London hours ago but we were held up on the bridge. Every cart, carriage and coach in England seem to have congregated there. It took an age to battle our way through. That's the beauty of living in the country,' he said, turning to Susan. 'We have the freedom to move at will.'

    'I was hoping to enjoy that freedom myself,' said Sir Julius testily, 'but you've kept me cooling my heels in