Although Detective Carson flinched at the barrister’s terse words, he glanced briefly at Papa and said, “Hardly unfounded, Mr. Nelson-Graves. Lady Amy was discovered in the library last evening with a dead man at her feet.” Carson leaned in closer to the barrister. “The man in question was her fiancé.”
“Ex-fiancé,” Amy whispered.
Carson waved a dismissive hand in her direction. “No matter. The point is, she broke their engagement and he showed up, possibly to discuss the situation, and ended up dead.”
“And why do you assume my client is the guilty party? What is your proof?”
“Her shoes were wet.”
Nelson-Graves continued to stare at the man. “And?”
Detective Marsh jumped in. “According to what we have ascertained from our investigation last evening, Mr. St. Vincent apparently left the room through the French doors and descended to the garden. There he was attacked with the knife, stumbled his way back up the stairs to the patio, through the doors, into the library, where he collapsed. The grass was damp and so were Lady Amy’s shoes. It follows that she was in the garden also.”
The barrister raised his eyebrows. “My good man, did you not consider that she went into the garden to see if Mr. St. Vincent was there?”
Ignoring his question, Carson turned to Lady Amy. “I would have you answer a few questions.”
Lady Amy looked over at Mr. Nelson-Graves, who nodded at her.
Detective Carson leaned forward, his focus on Lady Amy. She began to perspire, and somewhere in the back of her mind she told herself to remember this so she could show true emotion the next time she wrote an interrogation with a suspect. She unclenched her hands when Persephone let her know she was grasping the poor dog like a lifeline.
“Let’s start at the beginning again. Why did you end your engagement with Mr. St. Vincent?”
“I felt we no longer suited.”
“Why is that?”
Lady Amy hesitated. “Personal reasons.”
“A reason, perhaps, to kill him?”
Nelson-Graves frowned at the detective. “Do not answer that question, Lady Amy.”
Detective Carson continued while Marsh scribbled answers. “Why would Mr. St. Vincent return after you already broke your engagement?”
“Reading others’ minds has never been one of my talents, sir, so I could not tell you why he would return.”
“Did he come back for his ring, perhaps?”
“No. I had already returned it.”
Detective Carson studied her carefully. “Were you aware of the fact that the deceased was involved in the opium trade?”
It seemed she didn’t have to hold on to that information to save St. Vincent’s reputation after all. “It had come to my attention, yes.”
Papa shifted in his seat and sat forward. She didn’t look at his face but imagined his surprise.
“Is that the reason you ended your engagement?” Carson fired the question so fast while Marsh continued to scribble that she was beginni
ng to feel a bit dizzy.
“Yes.”
Carson allowed her to take a sip of her tea, where she noted her hand shook, and then continued with his questioning. Obviously feeling the tension in her mistress, Persephone jumped from her lap and trotted close to the fireplace, where she proceeded to walk in a circle and then collapse on the floor, ignoring the humans in the room. “How did you find out about St. Vincent’s opium connection?”
“I received a note with the information.”
Marsh jumped in. “From whom?”