After only about five minutes, William called over to her. “Amy, I found them.”
She hurried across the room. He was holding about four or five files in his hands. “The first one is Lemmon.” He waved a folder.
He placed that file on the desktop and flipped through the others. He pulled one out. “Here is mine.”
“I think we should make a list of these. One of these could very well be the file of a murderer.” Amy shivered.
William dropped the other folders on the desk and opened the center drawer. He withdrew a pencil and pad of paper. “Write down the names.”
He lifted the stack and began to read. “Mrs. Carol Whitney. Mr. David Montrose.” Amy scribbled the list as he read out the names.
William stopped and took in a deep breath. He looked over at Amy as he held the next folder. “Miss Gertrude O’Neill.”
He opened the file and began to look through it. He read the first page, then moved on to the second. “It appears Miss Gertrude started out as one of his clients, but then he must have discovered something about her, because he began to blackmail her.”
“Blackmail her?” Before Amy could process that information, the sound of footsteps walking in their direction had them staring at the door to the library in shock.
William was reaching for her, most likely to find them a place to hide, when Detective Carson and Detective Marsh walked into the room.
“Lord Wethington. Lady Amy. What a surprise!” Detective Carson grinned, his hands fisted at his hips.
CHAPTER 10
William could not believe he’d been so stupid as to ignore the fact that there might be others interested in searching James’s house. He had been so sure it would not be a problem, since there were no staff left, but he had completely forgotten that the police were right on their heels. Who would have guessed that they would get to this location so quickly?
Amy turned away from the detectives and slipped the paper she’d been writing on into the bodice of her dress. Even if the men noticed, they would not presume to search her. And William would never allow it.
Carson waved to one of the chairs. “Why don’t we sit and have a little chat.” Before William moved an inch, Marsh walked over and took all the files out of his hands. “We’ll take those, thank you.”
He nodded at the pile in the detective’s hands. “One of them is mine, and I have the right to take it back.”
Carson grinned again. “I don’t think so, my lord. This is now evidence in a murder investigation. But since you brought it up, let’s discuss why there is a hidden file with your name on it, here”—he looked around the library—“away from Mr. Harding’s office in Bath?”
Amy had taken a seat along with Detective Marsh, who was busy flipping through the pages of his notebook, but William and Carson remained standing.
William crossed his hands over his chest. “I would love an answer to that question myself, Detective. I don’t know why my file is here and not in his office.”
“All right, then let’s move on to my next question. What are the two of you doing here? Are you part owner of this residence?”
“It is quite possible,” Amy mumbled.
William had to swallow his laugh. “No. I am not.” It would probably pay to give short answers rather than incriminate himself. In fact, he should call a halt to this conversation and demand that his barrister be present.
He decided on an offensive tactic. “Detective, I have a question for you. Are we being charged with something?”
Carson frowned. “Breaking and entering sounds reasonable.”
“Except we did not break in. The back door was left unlocked.”
William was happy that both Carson and Marsh looked surprised. “We will investigate that.”
“Naturally,” William said.
Carson continued. “We are working on the theory that someone Harding was cheating and stealing from saw cause to do away with the man. Since the files here—which are no doubt the files that went missing from his office—most likely contain the names of those who had reason to be happy at Harding’s demise, your name is now on the top of our list. What other reason would there be for you to be so very anxious to retrieve this?”
Amy bristled at the man’s words. “Detective, do you honestly believe that Lord Wethington would shove someone into a river because the man was stealing from him? How about firing the man and turning to legal steps to deal with the situation?” Amy’s eyes flashed with anger, and William’s heart swelled at how she took up for him.
“Lady Amy, based on experience, we have no reason to believe or disbelieve anyone when involved in a murder investigation. What I can say to you and your cohort here is that, once again, you are nosing around police business.”
“I repeat, Detective, I was not nosing around police business but merely attempting to retrieve my file for the sole purpose of comparing the information there”—he nodded at the pile of files—“with my information at home so I could provide it to my new man of business.”
Carson shook his head. “As your lady friend said, there are legal ways to obtain that information. Breaking into someone’s home is not the proper way to do it.”
William’s anger was growing. Mostly at himself for being so foolish and getting him and Amy into a position where the police were now looking at him as a suspect. If they didn’t quickly make use of that list she’d hidden away, he would find himself sitting in jail.
As had been the case the first time he and Amy dealt with these detectives, the men seemed to have blinders on. Although he was certain that they would check all the people listed in the files they now held, William was the one who had been caught trying to get his file back, which would
