Bright and early the next morning, Amy settled into William’s carriage to make the trip to Mr. Harding’s home. “Have you decided how we are going to get into the house?”
William tapped on the ceiling, and the carriage moved forward. “Ever since we searched Harding’s flat two days ago, I have been asking questions of those who might know. I’m pretty certain there are very few, if any, staff left at Harding’s house. Until the estate is settled and the new owner takes possession, there is no reason for the servants to remain. Plus their pay would have stopped as well.”
“I don’t suppose you have a key to this residence like you did for his flat?”
“No. But with no one around and the home being set back from the street with woods behind it, I think we can go in through the back door.”
“You’ve been there before?”
“Yes. A few times.” William looked over at her shivering body and moved across the space to sit alongside her. He put his arm around her and pulled her close to his body.
“Why is it you are always warm?” she asked as she looked up at him.
He smiled down at her. “I don’t know, but it’s always been that way.”
She should have felt a bit uneasy with him being this close, but she was reluctant to give up the toasty warmth coming from him, right through both of their coats.
It wasn’t a very long ride, and they spent the time discussing his mother (he had nothing good to say about Mr. Colbert’s interest), the current book the club members were reading, and how odd it was for Miss Gertrude and Miss Penelope to be so very enthusiastic about the books.
“Miss Gertrude seemed exceptionally gay last night. Almost, one could say, giddy.” Amy smiled again, reminded that the woman had said nice things about her book.
He grinned. “I am still trying to absorb the fact that those two lovely sisters enjoy murder stories.”
William had the driver pull the carriage around the back of the house, which hid the vehicle quite nicely from the road.
The house was about half the size of Amy’s family estate, which was the largest house Amy had ever seen. Situated in the village of Old Basing, east of Basingstoke in Hampshire, her home had always felt overwhelming to her, and she had been happy to spend most of her life in her cozy townhouse in Bath.
She gazed out the window at Harding’s house. “This is quite an elegant home.” She turned to William, her brows raised. “I wonder how much of your money is invested in this.”
William climbed from the carriage and reached out to take Amy’s hand. “As I said, he claims it was an inheritance, but one wonders why he would resort to stealing if he had this kind of money in his family.” William continued to hold her hand as they approached the back door of the house.
“Of course, you have since concluded that his story could have been a complete lie.” They stopped once they reached the door. “You are sure there are no servants left?”
“As sure as one could be in these circumstances. I checked with Harding’s solicitor on the pretense of requesting a final accounting of Harding’s work on my finances. During the conversation, I asked about the house, and he said the employees had all left, since it would be some time before a new owner took over.”
“That is another thing we should consider,” Amy said. “Who will benefit from Harding’s death besides those from whom he was stealing? Perhaps a peek at his will would be enlightening.”
“Yes. Good point.”
They walked down the few steps to the door, the one the servants would have used to bring goods into the house.
William approached the door and studied it, then rattled the doorknob. The door opened. “This was left unlocked. Quite careless.”
Before he stepped inside, he looked over at Amy. “I would prefer if you wait in the carriage. There is a possibility that the door is open because someone else is in the house.”
Amy shook her head. “No. If we enter quietly, we can determine if anyone else is in the place.”
William looked to the heavens and sighed. “Stubborn woman.”
“So true,” she whispered.
They entered the house and stood very still, listening for any sounds.
Silence.
William went first, still holding Amy’s hand as they crept along. They stopped every few steps and listened. There was no noise anywhere in the house. With a bit more confidence, they made their way up to the ground floor.
“Where do you suppose the most likely place would be for the files?” Amy whispered, still uncertain if they were the only ones in the house.
“I’m sure he had an office here, the place being so large. But I think our best bet would be to start with the library. I remember from my visits here that he had a large desk there.”
The made their way down a corridor, past a couple of open doors. It felt unnerving to be walking around the home of a man who had been murdered. It left Amy with a feeling of sadness, looking at all his possessions and imagining him being there, relaxing after a long day’s work.
A long day of stealing, she reminded herself.
The library was immense. Every shelf was lined with books. There was even a ladder attached to the bookcase so that one could climb up and fetch a tome.
“Your Mr. Harding was quite the reader.” Amy stood in the middle of the room and turned in a circle.
“Chances are he inherited the books, either when he was willed the home or when he purchased it. I don’t believe Harding was much of a reader.” William moved to the desk and began opening drawers.
“I’ll look around the rest of the room,” Amy said. There were several chairs and sofas along with tables with
