The Sign of Death by Callie Hutton (i like reading .TXT) 📕

turned to liquid and her limbs had become quite heavy.

She grabbed William’s arm just as she slid to the floor.

When she opened her eyes, she was lying on a sofa in a strange office. William sat alongside her, studying her carefully. “Are you all right, Amy?”

She attempted to sit up, but he touched her shoulder to keep her from rising. “I think you need to give yourself a little time.” He handed her a cup of water, which she sipped.

“What happened?” Her head was pounding, and she wasn’t exactly sure how she had come to be lying on a sofa in an unknown office.

“You fainted.”

She shook her head. Goodness, that wasn’t a good idea with her head hurting. “I don’t faint.”

“Yes. You do.”

She looked down. “Who unfastened my dress?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“To let you breathe better. If it wasn’t totally improper, I would have cut the strings on your corset too.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I said I would have, not that I did.”

“That was James Harding, wasn’t it?” She thought she had heard William identify the man, but since her hearing had taken leave at that moment, she wasn’t sure.

“Yes.” William put his hand behind her back and helped her up. “It was him. But there was something odd about it.”

“You mean there is something odder than being found floating in the river?”

William reached into his pocket and withdrew some papers. “These were found on his body, inside an envelope. They’ve been drying out, but the ink has been washed away. Tucked in with the papers was my business card, which was why the police contacted me to identify the body.”

“What is odd about that?”

“I can’t say for certain, since the writing is gone, but I have a feeling these are papers James was to deliver for me a couple of weeks ago regarding a business deal. I’m almost sure these are the contracts I signed, because I remember tucking my card in with the papers and putting them into an envelope that looked very much like this one.”

The door to the office opened, and the young man who had escorted them to the morgue stuck his head in. “My lord, how is her ladyship feeling?”

“I am better, thank you,” Amy said, fastening the top of her dress.

“Then there are two police detectives here who wish to speak with you.”

Taking a glance at her, William said, “Very well, since Lady Amy seems to have recovered from her faint.”

“I don’t faint.”

“I will be right back with them,” the young man said, then closed the door.

She smoothed her hair back and adjusted her hat. “We were several flights down to the morgue, yet from the window over there, it appears we are on the ground floor. How did I get up here?”

William raised his brows. “How do you think?”

“Don’t tell me you carried me?” For some reason, she felt quite uneasy with the idea of William carrying her up three flights of stairs. First because she really needed to shed close to a stone, and second because it seemed—strange. It appeared he was quite a bit stronger than she’d thought.

Before she could dwell too long on that, the door opened again, and William and Amy looked up. They both groaned as two detectives stepped into the office. Why in heavens name were they to be plagued once more by the men who had harassed them months before during Mr. St. Vincent’s murder investigation?

“Well. Look who is here identifying another unexpected dead body.” Detective Marsh grinned and slapped Detective Carson on the shoulder. “None other than his lordship, Lord Wethington, and his cohort, Lady Amy Lovell.” He strolled into the room and stood before them, his hands firmly planted on his hips. “Who did you kill this time?”

CHAPTER 5

William’s annoyance quickly turned to anger. “Detective, must I remind you again that attempts at jokes are inappropriate when discussing someone’s demise?”

The prior year when William and Amy had investigated the murder of her ex-fiancé, the detectives had seemed a bit too casual with death for his liking.

“Settle down, your lordship.” Marsh took a seat and opened his always-handy notebook. Detective Carson stood behind his partner, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Tell me how it is you are connected to the deceased”—Marsh flipped back a few pages—“Mr. James Harding.”

“He was my man of business.”

Marsh wrote furiously while Carson addressed William. “What did the man do for you?”

William was certain that Carson continued to stand so he could intimidate him and Amy. Tired of straining his neck to look up at the detective, William stood. “He handled my finances. He negotiated contracts, he collected rents for my various properties, paid bills, and kept track of my various holdings.”

Carson nodded. “Why don’t you sit down, your lordship?”

“As soon as you do, Detective.”

Carson glared at him but took a seat. He looked over at Amy. “I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here with Wethington, but it seems to me that viewing a dead body is not something a young lady would want to do. Was this Harding chap your man of business as well?”

“No. I do not employ a man of business. My brother handles all the financial matters for my family.”

“Detective, might I ask how Mr. Harding came to be floating in the River Avon?” William inquired.

“All unwitnessed drownings are considered homicides and require an investigation. All we know so far is that Mr. Harding was apparently drunk and took a walk along the river and fell in. It’s happened before.”

William did a good job of hiding his surprise, since he knew James to be a teetotaler. “And why did you determine he was drunk and fell into the river?”

“He had an empty flask in his pocket that smelled of spirits. Aside from the normal bumps and bruises that a body would suffer floating in a river, there were no other injuries to suggest it was anything but an accident.”

“Yet you are investigating it?”

“It is required.” Carson looked over at Amy. “Just so we’re clear. There is no