Page 35 of Corpse in the Canal

“There would need to be a good reason, then? No moment of temper or jealousy?”

He passed the back of his free hand across his forehead. “I don’t know. I would doubt it. Her nature is kind.” Or it was…

“She didn’t like it when I mentioned Channing House,” Constance said. “Do you suppose that was to do with Percy, or with his family in general? Why would Mrs. Harvey say Adelaide is not one of us?”

Solomon shrugged. “She is of mixed race.”

“Like you. They have welcomed us like honored guests.”

“They don’t know about me. I have passed for European before. Presumably everyone in Channing knows that Jenkins married a woman of mixed blood. I suppose,” he added reluctantly, “that is another motive for her. But she has suffered such slights before. I can’t believe she shot Percy for it.”

“A slight against her son might be different.”

That was something that had not struck him before, and it brought memories of his own parents, of his own childhood.

“Also,” Constance pursued, “she does not like our profession.”

“Perhaps not, though who does? Apart from you and I. She probably sees it as a step down from my big plans when I was starting to make my fortune in Jamaica.” He felt too defensive, without understanding why, so he shook his head, trying to clear it. “I think we need a franker, more private discussion.”

They were nearing the police station once more. This time, they knocked on the door.

Constable Wills himself opened it and ushered them inside what appeared to be his house. The front room, where he directed them, was dominated by a plain wooden desk, a fling cabinet, and three upright, hard chairs.

“I was just collecting my notes for the inquest,” he said a shade nervously, waving them to the chairs. “Normally, I like to keep an eye on the market—brings all sorts into town.”

“All seems peaceful enough,” Solomon remarked. “And you have quite a good view of it from here. We intend to be at the inquest too but wanted to speak to you first.”

“I got up early and followed the London road,” Wills said. “Found the inn where Mr. Percy changed horses last. He should have been here in Channing by about two or three in the afternoon at the latest.”

“Mrs. Jenkins’s groom found a saddled horse in their paddock the following morning,” Constance said. “It might be Percy’s. But we haven’t found anyone who saw Percy himself.”

“Me neither.” He pulled at his lower lip, then said with disarming honesty, “I’ve never dealt with a murder before. Not sure it works dealing with it like a stolen item from the market, or a Saturday night tavern brawl.”

“You know the people here,” Constance reminded him. “That must be a help.”

“Or a hindrance,” Wills muttered.

“How well did you know Percy?” Solomon asked. The constable’s expression shuttered, and he added, “We already know he was no angel. That is why we wanted to see you without his father, so we could all speak a little more freely.”

Wills’s shoulders dropped. “In that case, he was trouble. If he wasn’t in a fight, he was causing one, drinking, gambling with men who couldn’t afford to pay him, rarely paid those he did owe. Treated the respectable local girls like doxies and generally made everyone’s life miserable. We were always glad when he took himself off to London. Pity he didn’t stay there. For all our sakes.”

“We understand he was at the Duke’s Arms the night before he left for London. Quarreled there with Sir Felix Everett and George West.”

“Not hard to quarrel with West,” Wills allowed. “Though I can’t see Sir Felix behaving unseemly, like.”

“Why would West have cause to quarrel with Percy? Did he cheat?”

“In every sense of the word.” Wills hesitated, then, “Gossip has it that Mrs. West strayed. With Mr. Percy. She certainly sported a black eye for a while. I had a word with West.”

Solomon thought all the better of him for that, although it was no part of a policeman’s duties to interfere between a husband and his wife. “Why would West play cards with a man who’d cuckolded him?”

Wills shrugged. “Got me there. To prove to everyone else he wasn’t cuckolded? A man’s pride is a strange thing.”

It was indeed.

“What about Sir Felix?” Constance asked. “Did he have a grudge against Percy? Were they friends?”

“Hardly. Sir Felix is a gentleman of dignity and serious character. He occasionally drops into the Duke’s Arms for a pint and a game of cards or darts, but he doesn’t stay long.”