Murder at Wakehurst by Alyssa Maxwell

Murder at Wakehurst by Alyssa Maxwell

Author:Alyssa Maxwell [Maxwell, Alyssa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2021-05-21T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter 12

After Mr. Gould and Maribelle left us that evening, Jesse, Scotty, and I discussed new possibilities. We began with what I had learned from Mamie Fish.

“If what both Mrs. Fish and Detective Myers said is true about Clayton Schuyler ruling in favor of workers’ rights,” I said, “it makes it less likely the person who shot that arrow into him needed to steal evening attire. He could have afforded to purchase his own.”

Jesse nodded, but Scotty looked dubious. “You believe the killer is a member of the Schuylers’ own class?”

“They kill, too,” Jesse reminded his assistant.

“When they have what they believe is a good enough reason,” I agreed, and added, “like anyone else.”

Scotty remained unconvinced. “If his own people were unhappy about the ruling, why not simply use their money to influence the next election and have him removed from the bench?”

I considered that. “It could have been a matter of seizing an unexpected opportunity, that of the archery equipment having been left on the veranda. Anyone could have seen the footmen carrying it up there. Then when the judge walked behind the house . . .” I held up my hands in reference to what happened after that.

Nanny came through the parlor doorway and made her way to the sofa. Jesse shifted to give her more room.

“I couldn’t help overhearing, but maybe the judge went behind the house for more than a cigar.”

I regarded her from my seat across from her. “What do you mean, Nanny?”

“We all know what goes on at these affairs.” She pursed her lips and gave us a knowing look. “Affairs being the operative word. You believe Delphine wasn’t happy in the marriage, that she might have been planning to leave her husband. Perhaps the judge was no angel.”

“A tryst,” I concluded, and remembered Delphine Schuyler’s accusation toward me. Wryly I said, “Yes, that did already come up.”

Beside Nanny, Jesse was nodding. “Emma, did you see him spending time with anyone in particular that night?”

I shook my head. “For the most part, he seemed to be enjoying the company of his gentleman friends. At one point, he attempted to rein in his daughter, but she would have none of it. It was after her argument with Jerome Harrington and she was in a high temper.”

“What about one of the actresses?” Scotty suggested.

Jesse sat a little forward in his chair. “The woman who played Titania. What was her name?”

“Clarice O’Shea,” I supplied.

“Perhaps Miss Schuyler had it wrong.” Jesse’s eyes narrowed as he thought it over. “Perhaps this O’Shea woman wasn’t carrying on with Jerome Harrington, but with Clayton Schuyler.”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I saw how Miss O’Shea watched Miss Schuyler when she stormed through the garden. If Miss O’Shea and Judge Schuyler were engaged in any sort of dalliance, Miss O’Shea would have stared daggers at Mrs. Schuyler, not the daughter.”

“It could have been another of the actresses”—Nanny smoothed a wrinkle in the skirt of her cotton dress—“or one of the wealthy ladies. But



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