They made their way up the stairs with no need to remain quiet, since the tenants were making plenty of their own noise. The walked up to number seven, the room Mr. Albright had identified as his own when he’d been hired. At least she’d had the presence of mind to ask that much of the man.
William shook the doorknob. It was apparent from the way the door rattled that the lock was anything but sturdy. “Move back,” he said.
With a hard shove of his shoulder, he slammed against the door and it popped open. Amy looked around, but none of the other doors opened to see what the noise was. Most likely the other tenants were all too busy dealing with their own misery to concern themselves with anyone else’s.
They closed the door and looked around at the shadowy space. Mr. Albright’s room was no larger than their gardener’s shed. There was very little light from the street, but William produced two candles and a flint from his inside jacket pocket. They quickly made their way through the room, looking under the bed, beneath the mattress, and in his wardrobe, where they found one pair of trousers and two shirts, all work-worn.
A drawer in an old wooden desk leaning against the wall, appearing as though it would collapse in a mild storm, revealed a pencil, a few coins, a small pad of paper, a razor, toothbrush, and a small pouch of tobacco. The man had obviously left in a hurry.
Since the space was so small, there wasn’t much to search. Amy stood with her hands on her hips and turned in a circle to view the room. “I don’t know what I had expected to find, but at least more than the little bit that is here.”
“What did you think? That Mr. Albright kept a journal of his life that would reveal he was Mr. St. Vincent’s killer?” William spoke over his shoulder as he looked at the ceiling, stopping underneath the old-fashioned chandelier. “Come here.”
Amy wandered over to where he stood. “What?”
“I’m going to lift you up, and I want you to feel around inside the candle cups. I can’t really tell from here with only the light from the candle, but it appears there is something in one of them.”
“Most likely a candle.”
William shook his head. “No.” He turned to her. “Here, let me lift you up.”
Although it was quite improper for him to take her in his arms to lift her, curiosity won out over propriety. He placed his hands alongside her waist and lifted. Goodness, she was no slender, lightweight woman, but he lifted her as though she weighed no more than a child.
She was a bit unsteady in this position, but she grabbed one of the cups and held on.
“Can you feel anything?”
“Not yet.”
Her fingertip hit something, and with a bit more stretching, she was able to wrap her hand around an object. “I have something in my hand. Let me down.”
Slowly he lowered her, and she held up what looked like a cloth pouch. She maneuvered her fingers and felt an object inside.
William took the pouch from her hand and tucked it into his pocket. “We won’t be able to see much here in the dark. We’ll take it with us. Nothing else has turned up, and very few people put things in their lamps unless it’s something they don’t want anyone else to find. I suggest we leave and examine the article away from here.”
Amy stopped breathing and looked quickly at William when there was a knock on the door.
William raised his finger to his lips and took her by the hand, then led her across the room to climb into the wardrobe. She thanked her cleverness again for dressing in trousers. Trying to squeeze herself into the space in her normal attire would have been quite an endeavor.
The knock sounded again, and then a rattling of the doorknob. “Mr. Albright?”
William leaned close to Amy’s ear. “That’s the landlady.”
“Mr. Albright? Someone was looking for you before. And your rent is past due.”
&n
bsp; The pounding of Amy’s heart was so loud, she cast a glance at William; certain he heard it. After a few minutes, the landlady said, “If your rent isn’t paid by tomorrow, I’ll have to let out your room to someone else.”
They both breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of footsteps and grumbling leading away from the door. After a few minutes, William shifted. “I think it’s safe to leave now.”
They climbed from the wardrobe and hurried across the room. William opened the door, peeked out, and waved her forward. They made their way down the stairs and out of the building. They practically ran the short distance from the building to the carriage, where William took the seat facing backward. A true gentleman.
Once settled, he tapped on the ceiling of the vehicle, and it began to move.
“What is in the pouch?” Amy asked.
He withdrew it from his pocket and pushed the sides of it apart. He pulled out an odd-looking porcelain object.