Murder at the Abbey: A Redmond and Haze Mystery Book 2 (Redmond and Haze Mysteries) by Irina Shapiro

Author:Irina Shapiro [Shapiro, Irina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Daniel used the scratched brass knocker to announce their presence. A young woman opened the door. A round-faced baby sat on her hip, and an older child hovered behind her, peeking out from behind her skirts. Despite the condition of the building, the woman looked clean and tidy, and the children appeared healthy and well fed.

“’Ow can I ’elp ye, gentlemen?” the woman asked.

“We’re here to see Mr. Sullivan,” Daniel said, his gaze straying to the baby, who was studying him with unblinking concentration. With its fair curls and baby gown, it was hard to tell if it was a boy or a girl, but it was sweet all the same.

“Top door on the right,” the woman said, and stepped aside to let them by. “What’d I tell ye ’bout getting under foot, John?” she scolded the boy, who nearly fell over when she moved unexpectedly. The boy looked like he was about to cry, so she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him through an open door that must have led to her own lodgings.

Jason and Daniel walked up the rickety stairs and knocked on the door. At first, there was silence, then they heard light footsteps. The door was opened by a fair-skinned man with unruly auburn hair and wide blue eyes. His worried gaze went from Daniel to Jason and back again, his unease obvious.

“Are you the bailiffs?” he asked, his voice quivering with apprehension.

“No, Mr. Sullivan. I am Constable Haze, and this is Captain Redmond. We’re investigating the death of Elizabeth Barrett,” Daniel explained. “May we come in?”

The man didn’t look too pleased at the prospect of letting them into his rooms but relented, obviously relieved they weren’t the bailiffs after all. Looking around, Jason wondered what the bailiffs might have taken, as there was nothing of value on display. There was a threadbare settee, a scarred table and two chairs, and an easel with a half-finished painting propped on it. The painting was rather good, but Jason was no expert on art. He only knew what appealed to him. The door to the other room was closed, but he couldn’t imagine that the bedroom was any more luxurious that the sitting room. The man was dirt poor and clearly terrified of losing what little he had.

“Please,” Shawn Sullivan said, gesturing toward the chairs.

Daniel and Jason sat down, but Shawn Sullivan remained standing, probably poised for flight. He exuded a nervous energy that Jason would have otherwise found irritating but under the circumstances could easily forgive. Were he in Shawn Sullivan’s shoes, he’d be nervous too.

“Mr. Sullivan, were you aware that Mrs. Barrett is dead?” Daniel asked.

The man nodded. “I had a letter from Miss Dawlish just yesterday. She is a mutual friend,” he explained. “I can’t believe Elizabeth is gone.” He looked unbearably sad, his eyes swimming with tears.

“Where were you on Thursday night and then on Friday morning?” Daniel asked.

“I was here,” the man said so softly, Jason could barely hear him.

“Can anyone confirm that?” Daniel asked.

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