“Have you ever seen this man?” Daphne swallowed. She’d pictured someone tall, thin, light on his feet with long nimble fingers and pointed nails. “Do you have a description?”
“I’ve seen him once.” Lily shook her head. “Well, I glimpsed him following me through the alley. But it could have been a drunken sailor, or someone looking to spend a penny for a five-minute fumble.”
Daphne sat forward. “Can you remember anything about him? Did he have dark hair? Was he plump or slender? Were his clothes that of a gentleman? Did he leave a—”
“Give her a chance to answer the first question.” Thorpe placed his hand on Daphne’s arm. The gesture brought instant comfort. This man could ease her fears with a single touch or glance.
“It must be good to have someone so strong to depend upon.” Lily stared at the large hand resting on Daphne’s arm, and Thorpe immediately broke contact. “In answer to your questions, I don’t know. It is like he’s a ghost ... there but not there.”
“When we arrived, the chandler said you were expecting us,” Thorpe said changing the subject. “It’s been three years since Thomas’ death, why would you imagine we would make the connection now?”
“In my line of work information is readily available. We learn every detail of our colleague’s background. I’m well aware you’re both enquiry agents, know of your connection to Thomas. When Bernard came up, described you both and mentioned Mrs Chambers, it was evident you’re working together. What is odd is that it took three years for you to find me.”
Thorpe looked to his lap. His shoulders sagged, and he sighed. “I’d always assumed Thomas’ death was an accident. There was no reason to suppose otherwise.”
“Then I presume you never found the evidence Thomas spoke of?”
“No,” Daphne said. “Perhaps he trusted the man he met. Perhaps he handed over the evidence to a person in authority.”
Lily tapped her lip as she contemplated the suggestion. “It is a possibility. Had it been with his belongings you would have come across it long before now. Even so, Thomas may have deliberately tried to conceal the information somewhere.”
“I can’t think of anywhere it could be.” When Thomas died, Daphne gave away his belongings — everything except his favourite book.
“Yet something has changed to force you to make enquiries now,” Lily said.
Daphne opened her mouth to speak, but Thorpe chose to answer. “Nothing has changed, other than Mrs Chambers and I have recently become reacquainted. She has always had concerns about her husband’s death, and I agreed to help her find answers.”
“I only wish there was more I could tell you.” Lily stood, which was their cue to leave. “If I remember anything else, where might I find you?”
“At the Museum Tavern on Great Russell Street.” Thorpe stood. “Tell the landlord you have ropes for sale, and we’ll know where to come.”
Lily inclined her head, escorted them to the door and held it open. “Please, I must insist that you do not come here again. Not unless I contact you. In my line of work, it is not wise to rouse suspicion. And would you purchase something from the chandler on your way out? It will account for the time spent in the shop.”
“Of course, but allow me to ask one more question before we go.” Thorpe turned to face the delicate beauty. “Did you not think to approach Mrs Chambers and tell her what you’d learned from Thomas?”
Lily paused. “Examine your question carefully, Mr Thorpe, and the answer is obvious.” She spoke with an air of confidence they’d not witnessed before. But then the lady was a spy. Somewhere within she had to have the mental strength one expected of a man. “To approach Mrs Chambers would mean discussing information about a government agent. I had no evidence. To betray those paid to protect the Crown is treason. Forgive my lack of empathy, but I was too late to save Thomas. And I value my neck more than I desire retribution.”
It was a reasonable explanation.
“I understand.” Thorpe narrowed his gaze. “So why tell us now?”
Lily opened her mouth, but it took a few seconds for her to reply. “Because I am tired of this life, Mr Thorpe. Because if I turn up dead in the Thames, I hope you’ll find the traitor and make him pay for what he has done.”
Thorpe remained silent, inclined his head and strode out into the hall.
Daphne lingered for a moment. There were so many questions she wanted to ask. Had Thomas spoken about their marriage? Did he enjoy his work with Lily? But now was not the time to delve deeper into the past, despite knowing the opportunity would never present itself again.
“I am truly sorry about Thomas.” Lily grabbed Daphne’s hand, squeezed it tight and pressed a small piece of paper into her palm. “He always spoke so highly of you.”
Daphne’s throat grew tight. Guilt flared. She’d thought highly of her husband too. She’d just not loved him as she ought.
“Thank you for agreeing to see us,” Daphne said, resisting the urge to examine the note. “We should have no need to trouble you again.”
“The contents of any missive can be misleading. One must endeavour to find the truth. One must delve deep to find the answers you seek.”
Chapter 13
The time spent waiting on the landing while Daphne spoke privately to Lily Lawson proved informative. From Daphne’s calm demeanour, warm handshake and bright smile, it was apparent she bore no malice to the woman who knew her husband far better than she did. The fiery flash of jealousy in Daphne’s eyes when Lily first opened the door had gone.