The woman sniffed and jerked her head.
‘Next door but one. Top floor.’ She grabbed the coin Grace was holding out to her and a sly look came in her bloodshot eye. ‘Thank ’ee, madam. That’ll buy some milk for the babe, but if you could spare a few more pennies, I ain’t eaten fer a week.’
Wolf pulled Grace away.
‘It will only go on gin,’ he muttered.
‘I know.’ Grace sighed, glancing back at the woman, who was already making her way unsteadily along the alley. ‘I thought we had suffering enough in Arrandale, but it is nothing to this.’
She followed him to the house where they hoped to find Annie Meesden. The door was open and they went in. If there was a landlady she was nowhere in sight.
‘At least the stairs have been swept,’ Grace remarked. ‘That is a good sign.’
There were two doors on the top floor, one stood open to reveal a wretched woman sprawled on the bed and snoring loudly. Wolf looked at the woman’s face, then knocked at the closed door. A female voice demanded to know who was there. Wolf nodded to Grace.
‘Mrs Meesden?’ she called. ‘I have some mending for you.’
The door opened a fraction to reveal a small, thin woman in a white cap. Her eyes widened when she saw Wolf and she tried to close the door, but his arm shot out and stopped her.
‘What’s wrong, Annie?’ he drawled, pushing his way in. ‘Are you not pleased to see me?’
The woman stepped back as he moved into the room. Grace followed him.
‘What do you want?’
The woman retreated behind her little table, hissing like a wildcat. Grace closed the door.
‘Please, Mrs Meesden, we mean you no harm. I am Grace Duncombe. You may remember my father, he is the vicar at Arrandale.’
Grace noticed a worn Bible on a shelf by the bed and she hoped the information would reassure the woman. Meesden spared her no more than a quick, contemptuous glance before turning her attention back to Wolf.
‘How did you find me?’
‘That is not important. I want to know the truth about what happened to my wife.’
The woman glared at him and Grace was chilled by the hatred in her eyes.
He said again, ‘How did she die, Annie?’
‘It’s your fault,’ she spat. ‘If she hadn’t married you she would be alive now.’
‘But I did not kill her, Annie, so who did?’
‘Ifyoudidn’t, then it must’ve been an accident.’
The woman sat down on a chair, her mouth stubbornly closed.
‘And what happened to the necklace?’ Wolf demanded. When she did not reply his fist banged on the table. ‘Did you steal it and use the money to set up your milliner’s shop? If so, you were sadly duped. It was worth more than enough to keep you living comfortably for the rest of your days.’
‘No, I didn’t take it,’ she said, goaded. ‘Like I told ’em, my uncle died and left me money to buy the shop.’ Her face twisted into a look of disgust. ‘Only it wasn’t enough to keep it going through the hard times. Still, it was more than I got from the Arrandales. My mistress never left me a penny, not that she was expecting to die so early, poor lamb.’
‘Mayhap you thought the necklace would recompense you for that.’
‘I tell you I didn’t steal it.’
‘But you know who did.’
‘I don’t know anything. Miss Florence dismissed me early on the night she died, but when I left her the necklace was in her jewel box. I saw it. The next time I went to her room it was missing. ’Tis the truth.’ She waved her hand at them. ‘You can leave now. I’ve nothing else to tell you.’
