Page 31 of Corpse in the Canal

The woman’s brilliant brown eyes widened. Beside Constance, Solomon had gone very still. Constance flicked a glance at him and could not read him. That was rare now. But his posture had tensed. A ripple seemed to run up his arm to the shoulder that was touching hers. Recognition, and something more—pleasure? Dismay?

Constance acted on instinct. “Please do sit down. I’m Constance Grey.”

The lady inclined her head, graceful, almost regal. “Adelaide Jenkins. This is my son, Clarence.”

Only then did Solomon rise somewhat belatedly to his feet. Young Clarence grinned, clearly delighted not to be deprived of his promised treat, and climbed onto the chair next to David. Which left the chair next to Solomon for Adelaide.

She took it, gazing at him as though she could never get enough of him. “Solomon. How are you?

A frisson stole up Constance’s spine, ominous, almost frightening, because she had never encountered any woman from Solomon’s past before. And not only was this woman lovely, her son’s childish features surely bore a startling resemblance to Solomon’s.

*

The appearance of Adelaide Arbuthnott had utterly thrown Solomon. It had never entered his head that she was Adelaide Jenkins. Indeed, she had not entered his head for years, except as a vague regret of his past, so that to discover she was their major suspect in Percy Harvey’s murder stunned him.

Beside him, Constance had gone very still. She must be just as surprised as he by the fact that he was acquainted with the scandalous widow. Mrs. Harvey’s remark that Adelaide “is not one of us” began to mean something. Something he did not like.

But of course, she had already encountered David. She was not as blindsided as he.

She turned to Constance. “Your husband did me a great service in Jamaica some years ago. I am very glad to see him again, and to meet you, Mrs. Grey.”

She sounded confident, gracious, though the faintest tremor in her voice betrayed uncertainty. She wasn’t sure what, if anything, Solomon had told his wife about her. In fact, he couldn’t remember ever mentioning her, and now he didn’t know why, because she had never been the sort of woman one overlooked.

She appeared to be very well, he thought dispassionately. The years had been kind to her, apart, perhaps, from the wary cynicism, even suspicion, in her eyes when she had noticed David at the table. Had she imagined that David was Solomon and trying to pretend he did not know her?

Whatever, he had to pull himself together and remember why they wanted to speak to her in the first place.

“The pleasure is mine,” Constance said lightly. “In fact, we called at Dare Hall only a little while ago, so we are doubly glad to run into you here.”

“Oh?” Adelaide glanced from her to Solomon. “Then you knew I was in Buckinghamshire?”

Solomon was spared answering by the maid who came to take the newcomer’s order.

“Tea and cakes, please!” Clarence said eagerly, causing everyone to laugh, including the waitress, though she looked inquiringly at the boy’s mother.

Adelaide nodded, still smiling. Obviously, she doted on the child. “If you please.” She turned her gaze back to Solomon. “So what brings you to this part of the world? Mr. Grey, your brother, seemed to think you were staying at Channing House with the Harveys.”

A shadow passed over her face.

Solomon said, “We are. I gather you have heard of the death of their son?”

“Indeed. I was hoping it was foolish gossip, but so many people are talking about it…”

“Oh, it’s true,” Constance said. “Mr. Percival Harvey…” She trailed off, her gaze flickering to Clarence. “Well, he has died. That is really why we are here. Mr. Richard Harvey has asked us to look into the matter.”

Adelaide blinked. “Why on earth would he ask that?”

“Because it’s what we do,” Constance said nonchalantly.

Adelaide still looked baffled, so Solomon took a card from his pocket and passed it to her.

“Really?” Was that disappointment in her eyes? “This is what you do now?”

“Mostly,” Solomon said. “You could help us, if you would. Do you remember the last time you saw Percy?”

Was that a shudder? She turned aside quickly, to receive the tea tray, while another maid brought the coffee and David’s dinner. Clarence’s eyes gleamed as they fixed on the tiered cake plate.

“Yes,” Adelaide said. “I saw him from the parlor window the Thursday before last.” But her gaze did not meet Solomon’s. She was looking about her at the crowded room, a new tension in every line of her posture. “Why don’t you come for tea this afternoon?”