“I thought I might pay you a courtesy visit to apologise for my absence these last two days.” As she spoke, Mrs. Cleary edged closer to the desk. She cast a keen eye on the documents in front of her. Maurice breathed a sigh of relief. The parcel Alfred had given him lay underneath his coat on the table. She would not see it.
“No harm done,” he chirped. “I understand you have been ill. Are you… feeling better, Mrs. Cleary?”
To Maurice’s horror, she gave a sly smile. It was an uncanny row of teeth. “I’ve never felt better,” she said, almost sweetly.
Maurice waited, feeling his discomfort rise. He expected Mrs. Cleary to leave, but she stared at him, her gaze more intense. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Mr. Leroux?”
Maurice felt a coldness spread across his scalp. He suppressed a desire to shrink back.
“I…I don’t know what you mean.”
“I thought you might have letters you’d wish to send out. The delivery boy is usually in early on Sundays. I could hand them over to him for you.” There was in her tone, a lick of menace, something unsaid that made the blood rush to Maurice’s cheeks. He wondered if she had seen him creep in her room. Had she truly been asleep? What had she seen with those staring eyes?
Despite his galloping heartbeat, he straightened, adopting a neutral expression. “No, there’ll be nothing to send out,” he replied. “Thank you for asking, Mrs. Cleary.”
The housekeeper gave an austere nod.
“Well, goodnight. I must see to it that the girls have completed all their chores.”
Maurice felt his pulse return to normal. Had Mrs. Cleary intuited that she was now his primary suspect in the death of Sophie Murphy? He brushed the thought aside. There was nothing he had done or said which would give that away. He was overly anxious, that was all.
Having regained his calm, he folded his letters and sealed them in envelopes.
He had just finished writing out the addresses when another tap at the door alarmed him.
Through the keyhole, he glimpsed Madeleine’s silhouette.
“Come in,” he whispered as he opened the door.
Madeleine quietly slinked in.
“She’s up Maurice. I saw her walk into the commons. I don’t know why she would think of roaming around at ten o’clock at night. Did you do it?” she asked nervously.
“Yes. I returned the key,” began Maurice. “But in the process, I might have discovered something. I’m afraid it’s not good. I need you to be wary of Mrs. Cleary. I cannot say anything further.”
Madeleine stared at him in mute astonishment. “You think she might be a murderer?” she whispered.
Maurice hesitated. “Perhaps. I can’t talk about it.”
Madeleine fixed him, a look of enquiry in her eyes.
“You have been a great help, Madeleine,” said Maurice still speaking in a hushed tone, “but I’m afraid that’s all I can reveal for now. I’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, avoid Mrs. Cleary as much as you can. Better still, can you absent yourselves from Alexandra Hall tomorrow? All of you.”
“Tomorrow?”
“No one should remain alone with her until John Nightingale returns next week.” Maurice actually counted on the police’s presence more than anything.
“Well, we could ask Alfred to drive us somewhere… It’s Sunday tomorrow. I’ll ask Shannon if we could all go to the markets and then sleep at her aunt’s until Monday. She lives in Reading Town.”
“Perfect. Now, something else.” He blushed. “Have you…time at your disposal early tomorrow morning? Or perhaps tonight? I… I’m in need of your help.”
“What do you have in mind, Mr. Leroux?”
“You said you had a solid memory. It might serve this investigation. I need you to search through Aaron Nightingale’s scientific journals. There are too many volumes in his study. I’m afraid I’ll have no time to do it myself and I feel I can…trust you.”
“What will you get up to while I’m in his study?”
Maurice smiled. “I’ve discovered Aaron’s personal journals in the cellar. There’s quite a lot to get through. I was hoping to read them while you peruse the bookshelves. Please, I need you to look up anything you can find on this woman.” He seized a pencil from his desk and scribbled the name, Jeannette Power on a sheet of paper. “Here, take this. All I know is she was a scientist and that Aaron was keen to speak with her.”
Madeleine’s eyes glowed with excitement but there was caution in her voice. “A woman? Really? What kind of scientist? There’s an awful number of books in that study. It’s like looking for a shell in the ocean. Really, Mr. Leroux.”
“I can’t be certain but I have a feeling that her work relates to…water. Can you look for that? Anything you can. You see, I saw something in the cellar. Whatever it is, it seems to have been extremely important to Aaron Nightingale.”
Madeleine studied the name thoughtfully. “If I recall, Mr. Nightingale owned many books on sea life,” she replied. “Do you think this woman might have been a marine scientist?”
Maurice gazed at Madeleine with renewed respect. “Whatever she was or did, John spoke of her this afternoon. He said Aaron took her down to the cellar on his wedding day. If that is true, she is key to Aaron’s secret projects. Start as soon as you can but don’t let Mrs. Cleary see you. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
“Why Mr. Leroux, this is quite an adventure. Of course, I’ll help you. Whoever thought Frenchmen were fun, huh?”
“Fun? Is that what it looks like? I’m terrified, Madeleine. Everything about this house is wrong.”
“Now, don’t you start, as well! I’ve seen the same look in Mrs. Cleary’s eyes. Are you quite sure you are not going as crazy as
