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

“I know you don’t want to talk about the murder investigation, but I need something to occupy my mind. Using the code, I added another name to our list. It turns out one of the blackmailees—is that a word?—is a woman who owns a millinery shop on Union Street called the Hat Box.”

“Very imaginative.”

“Yes, well, I thought perhaps we could visit with her this afternoon. That is, if you want to. I know you said you prefer to forget about all of it this afternoon.”

William reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I know you’re concerned about me. I appreciate that. Once we’ve refreshed ourselves with tea, we will visit the millinery shop.”

“And then we can take a stroll in Victoria Park.”

“If you wish.”

The millinery shop turned out to be quite exclusive. Based on the women going in and out, it catered to the upper crust.

They strolled outside the store for about fifteen minutes before there was a break in the streams of women patronizing the establishment.

They entered the store, and Amy was immediately impressed. It was clean, well stocked, and brightly lit, with floor-to-ceiling windows. The woman behind the counter walked up to them. “Good afternoon. How may I help you?”

Amy looked over at William. “I believe I would like to try a few hats.”

“Please do.” He turned and walked to a grouping of chairs with a small marble-topped table in front of them. It had obviously been set up to provide a space for husbands and fiancés to wait while their women selected chapeaus.

“I would like to try that hat on.” Amy pointed to a deep-blue, large-brimmed confection with flowers on the crown and pale-blue netting enveloping the whole thing, with enough left in front to cover the face.

She sat on a stool in front of a line of mirrors. The woman placed the hat on her head, adjusted the set of it, and drew the netting down over Amy’s face. “This is lovely on you, my lady.” She looked over at William. “Don’t you agree, my lord?”

“Yes. It does look quite elegant on you, Lady Amy.”

Still confused as to how the woman knew them as lord and lady, Amy turned left and right, admiring herself. “Do you own the shop?”

“Yes. I am the owner. My name is Mrs. Ethel Burrows, and I would be honored to be of service to you.”

Amy glanced at William through the mirror. His eyebrows rose.

“Your name sounds familiar to me. I feel as though I know you from somewhere.” Amy continued to admire herself in the mirror.

“May I ask your name?”

“Yes. Of course. I am Lady Amy Lovell. And that is Lord Wethington.”

The store owner gave a quick dip to them both. “It is a pleasure, I am sure.”

“I remember now. I believe we have a mutual friend in Mr. James Harding. Although I understand he—”

Mrs. Burrows snatched the hat off Amy’s head, taking a bit of her hair with it. “If you will excuse me, my lord, my lady. I just remembered an appointment, and I must close the shop.”

She scurried from around the counter, lifted Amy by her arm, and marched her to the door. Amy dug in her heels. “Wait. Wait a minute. Please.”

“I do not wish to discuss that man. If you have anything else to say about him, I ask you to please leave.”

William stood and walked over to the two women. “If you will humor me, Mrs. Burrows. I believe my companion here would be delighted to purchase one of your hats. We did not mean to upset you.”

Mrs. Burrows straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. “Upset does not begin to define it. The man was a scoundrel, a criminal, and a rogue. If he were not already dead, I would be purchasing a gun right now to kill him myself.”

Well then.

“Mrs. Burrows, I apologize that we have upset you so.” William led her over to the cozy corner, where all three of them sat. “I understand your not wishing to discuss the man, but I find myself a main suspect in Harding’s murder, and I am trying my best to uncover the true killer.”

“As I said, I did not kill him, but given enough time, I would surely have gone completely against everything I believe in and put a hole in the man’s heart. Well, actually, he had no heart, so maybe his brain.”

“I assume he was blackmailing you.”

Mrs. Burrows eyes grew wide, but she clamped her lips shut and nodded.

“I believe you are one of several,” Amy said.

“Then if you are looking for his killer, I’m afraid you will have quite a long list of potential suspects.”

“Did you know any of the other people he was blackmailing?” Amy reached over and took the woman’s hand. “I have absolutely no interest in why he was blackmailing you, so you may ease your mind on that.”

Just then the door to the shop opened. Mrs. Burrows hopped up. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Paisley.” She waved at William and Amy. “They were just about to leave.” She glared at them, leaving them no choice but to gather their things and exit the store.

“Well, that went very well.” Amy stared back at the storefront. “I would have liked to buy one of her hats, actually. They were quite pretty.”

William took her hand again, and they walked to where his carriage waited behind the store. “It seems there are several people who would have liked to kill Harding. Our problem is, which one of them actually carried through on their threat to do so?” He helped Amy into the carriage.

“Do you still wish to walk in the park?”

“No. Frankly, I am quite rattled by Mrs. Burrows’s actions and words. There was a great deal of hatred and malice in her attitude. I honestly believe her. I think if she had the opportunity and the means, she would have killed him.”

“So far, Patrick Whitney and Miss Gertrude would have as well. And we have