The Custom House Murders (Captain Lacey Mysteries #15) - Ashley Gardner Page 0,33
cup into its saucer with precision. “He is—was—a widower. I don’t believe he had any children. He’d lived in Antigua a long time, thirty years, I think I heard him say.”
“And he was returning to London for business he didn’t trust any other to do?”
“Eh? Oh, yes, I suppose that is what he said.”
“It is what you told the magistrate.”
Eden’s face reddened. “See here, Lacey. Did you come to interrogate me or help me?”
“I came to get to the truth of the matter.” I sipped coffee and took in my surroundings. Eden had mentioned he’d transported a chair he liked, which was one reason he’d visited the cargo hold, but I saw no chair here that did not match the decor. These sofas and armchairs had been purchased as a set. I suppose the customs men could have kept hold of it, but Eden seemed to have forgotten all about it.
“The truth of the matter is I went nowhere near Warrilow the night he was killed,” Eden said firmly. “Mine is not the hand that struck him down.”
“I’m inclined to believe you, for many reasons. His landlady told me the same tale of you turning up at half past nine and Warrilow being abed. She considered you a fine gentleman.”
“What a relief. Exonerated by an East End landlady.” Eden took a sip of coffee, eyeing me coolly over the cup. “I hope that is enough for Pomeroy and his magistrate.”
“Please do not take offense. I do want the truth. I must warn you that if I discover you truly did kill the man, I will have to let Pomeroy take you.”
Another soft snort from Brewster. I heard a mutter of thickheaded pride and honor.
Eden didn’t seem to notice. “I’d expect no less, Lacey. Likewise, if I discovered you bashed the man over the head for some reason, I would haul you before the magistrates myself.”
“Then we understand each other. Truth is our best chance.”
I saw Brewster shake his head as though fed up with mad army officers.
Eden opened his hand. “What do you wish to ask me?”
“Did you know Warrilow in Antigua? You said you tried your hand at planting. Did your paths cross?”
“Unfortunately. Let me explain about Antigua, Lacey. There is much money to be made in sugar—if you have the right connections. The island is dominated by large plantations, the owners of which bring in fortunes. The navy and the dockyards where Lord Nelson commanded before he went off to chase old Boney were put in place to protect the merchantmen hauling rum to the rest of the world and supplying the planters when they returned. The business runs the island.”
“Is that why you tried planting? To make a fortune?”
Eden shrugged. “I needed to do something with myself. The threat from the French had died once Napoleon was defeated.” He trailed off. “Think of it, Lacey. Nelson, one of the great naval captains, and his foe, Napoleon Bonaparte, another astonishing man. We’ll not see their like again. One dead, the other withering away on an island prison.”
“And here you and I, who bloodied our hands in the thick of the battles, sit in comfortable chairs drinking coffee.” I took a sip. It did make one think. “Wellington survived. He’s as confident as ever.”
“So I have heard.” We reflected for a moment on all we had seen and done in the long, long fight to defeat Napoleon. “In any case, you are waiting for me to answer your question,” Eden went on. “Yes, my path and Warrilow’s crossed. He was known for his brutality and actually twitted me for being soft with my workers. I can’t look the other way at slave labor—it’s an archaic and barbaric practice that should have been banished centuries ago. In any case, I freed the twenty slaves who worked for me and settled them into paying posts or sent them to acquaintances in Canada for the same. After that I turned my hand to shopkeeping.” He chuckled. “I was horrible at it. My employees were relieved when I sold the business and decided to return to England.”
“Did you and Warrilow clash over anything in particular?”
I studied the gilded carved plaster of the fireplace as I waited for his answer.
“No.” Eden sounded uncertain. “No.” This was more firm. “He simply put my back up. He did with everyone.”
When I turned my gaze to Eden once more, he’d lifted his coffee cup as though hiding behind it.