“You know, he is really extremely well thought of by everybody. You won’t do better than him,” Babette declared. “He is a wonderful man.” Her voice trailed off and she grew thoughtful for a moment before she gave herself a physical shake, and turned her thoughts away from her own romantic entanglements and back to the discussion within the room.
“Are we allowed to discuss any of this, or would you prefer it if we kept it to ourselves?” Constance asked as she selected another biscuit. “You know, until everything has quietened down?”
Beatrice thought about that for a moment. “I don’t really see any reason why we should keep this a secret. However, right now Ben is spending quite a bit of time here because he has been helping me try to identify who owns the plant. I don’t want to encourage the gossips by drawing their attention to our relationship. He has done so much for me already; I don’t want to pressure him into anything because of public censure.”
“You have a point,” Babette said as she glanced around at each of the ladies. “For now, we keep quiet about this.”
Murmurs of agreement swept through everyone and, for the first time all evening, they turned their attentions to the projects they were supposed to be working on.
An hour later, their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. Beatrice froze and slowly lowered her sewing back onto her lap as she shared a look with Maud.
“I will go,” she sighed as she placed her sewing on the floor and made her way toward the front door. She knew that it wasn’t possible for Ben and Mark to get to Great Tipton and back in such a short space of time; however also knew that the knock hadn’t been as persistent as Sigmund Hargraves’.
“Thank heavens,” she whispered when she opened the door to find Isaac on the doorstep. However, although she was relieved to see him, the gravity on his face filled her with dread, and she stepped back to wave him inside in nervous anticipation.
Rather than lead him into the sitting room, she showed him toward the front parlour and took a moment to close the door behind them.
“Well? Did you find him?”
Isaac licked his lips, and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another. Determined not to be protected from the truth, Beatrice pierced him with a no-nonsense glare.
“Sigmund Hargraves?” She felt slightly sick at the look in Isaac’s eye, and knew before he spoke what the Detective was going to say. “How?”
“He had been killed,” was all Isaac said. He could see no reason to tell her that Hargraves’ throat had been cut from ear to ear.
In all of his years of service with the police, Isaac had never seen anything as disturbing as the bloodied mess that had been the man’s house. “Where have Mark and Ben gone?”
Beatrice told him about Caroline Smethwick’s appearance, and s
aw him nod in understanding that she had been removed to the station.
“Do you think she is the killer?” Beatrice asked desperately. “She has been following us,” she added hopefully.
A small voice warned her that Caroline Smethwick wouldn’t know about the people on the list she had found, and wasn’t likely to be the person responsible for the deaths. However, desperation made her hope that evidence pointed to the woman being the killer because at least now the murderer was behind bars and unable to hurt anyone else.
“I don’t know,” Isaac replied doubtfully. He chose his words carefully so as not to scare her, but he couldn’t fill her with false hope and leave her vulnerable. “I think it is odd that two of the four people on that list are now dead. Richard Browning is not available, Bernard Murray has vanished too, and the man who has been pestering for the plant is now dead. All of them are linked to the plant, we just don’t know how yet.” He sighed and gave her a careful look. “Would you take a word of advice, Beatrice?” He waited until she nodded. “Once the ladies have gone home, keep Ben with you. Right now, you shouldn’t be alone. Do not, under any circumstances, go out at night. I am not saying that anything is going to happen to you, but you need to take extra precautions. While we have no reason to believe that the killer is interested in you, or even knows of your existence, you need to be alert and aware of the potential dangers. Having Ben here may be enough of a deterrent to stop anyone attempting to get in.”
Beatrice nodded. “Thank you for being so frank with me. I am going to speak to Maud, and make sure that if she keeps the doors and windows locked and bolted.”
“Until this is over Beatrice, I don’t think that Maud should be alone here either. Stay together and don’t go anywhere without Ben.”
She nodded. If she was honest she had no intention of going anywhere without Ben from this moment onward. He had been such an integral part of her life over the last few days that she really had no idea what she was going to do when the danger had passed and he had to return home.
The thought of living in the house all alone, and only being able to see Ben occasionally, filled her with dread.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The next hour passed slowly for Beatrice. Although Isaac remained in the front parlour, she was painfully aware that he was in there. Dusk fell upon them and the candles were lit, but rather than fill the room with a rosy glow that warmed them all, they seemed to make the shadows even darker, and the atmosphere within the house grow heavy.
The once amiable ladies grew watchful and silent. They all knew that something was amiss, but Beatrice didn’t see the need to tell them about Sigmund Hargraves’ death for fear of frightening them unnecessarily.
The sound of several loud knocks on the front door was a welcome relief to everyone, and Beatrice almost wept when Isaac assured them that he would answer the door because it was ‘only’ Mark and Ben.
It was so incredibly difficult to sit still when she heard the familiar sound of Ben’s voice. She wanted to rush toward him and give him a hug so that she could see for herself that he really was alright. However, she didn’t want to embarrass him in front of the ladies, and so remained where she was. Well, she tried to. When he appeared in the doorway and smiled at her, she just couldn’t help it and hurried over to him.
“Are you alright?” She knew from the almost haunted look in his eye that he had heard about Sigmund Hargraves’ demise. Their eyes met and held for several long moments while a wealth of unspoken emotion swept between them. There was nothing they could do though, not with so many people pretending they were part of the furniture just a few feet away.
After a few whispered words out in the hallway, Mark moved into the sitting room doorway and looked at everyone present.