“After what happened to Father, I do not trust anyone, but you and Aunt Caroline.”
“Then why did ye agree tae let him help ye?”
“I agreed because we need all of the help that we can get and if he is the man who killed my father, then it would be easier for me to discover his intentions if he is near.”
“Ye are nae afraid for yer life?”
“Nay, I am not. My anger has made me braver than I ever thought was possible.”
“And if he proves tae be the man who killed yer faither?”
“Then I will see his handsome head swinging from the gallows before the year is out.”
Chapter 4
Arthur stood at the doorway to Henry Wallace’s office and scanned the contents within. The constables had left everything as it was, even the bloodstains on the floor remained. It appeared that the only two things that they had taken from the room were the professor’s body and the gun with which he had supposedly killed himself.
“Nae much tae go on,” he murmured as he entered the room. He moved about the space taking everything in. Nothing at all seemed amiss. He had expected for the room to look more askance, but it did not. “It is nae wonder that the constables dinnae believe that the professor was murdered. There is nae sign o’ a struggle at all.”
Arthur had left the Wallace residence and immediately gone to speak with the constables on duty at the time of the professor’s death. They had not been hard to find, but they also had not been very helpful. The one useful piece of information given to him was the gun found in the professor’s hand, thus convincing enough to declare his death a suicide. But they did not know the professor like Arthur did.
“May I be of service, Sir?” a deep voice from behind him asked.
Arthur turned around and found a man standing in the doorway. He held a bucket and a scrub brush. “I assume ye are here tae clean the office?”
“Yes, sir. I have been instructed to clean away the blood and to remove Professor Wallace’s things. Were you a friend of the professor, sir?”
“Aye, he was a good man.”
“Yes, he was. He always treated me kindly.”
“Did ye ken the professor well?”
“Yes, sir. I have cleaned these offices for nigh on twenty years now and saw Professor Wallace nearly every day of those twenty years.”
“Do ye believe him capable o’ such an act?” Arthur asked, gesturing toward the blood on the floor.
“Nay, sir, I do not. The professor always seemed to me to be a contented man. He was sad when he lost his wife, but I would never have believed him capable of leaving his daughter alone. Such a sweet and lovely girl, she is.”
“Aye, she is bonnie, tae be sure, and I agree that the professor would nae leave her.” Arthur turned to face the room once more. “Do ye see anything’ amiss?”
The man entered the room and set his pail and brush down upon the floor. He scanned the room with his eyes while Arthur stood back and watched his gaze travel over the various objects. After several moments, the man shook his head. “I do not see anything amiss. All appears to be as it was before.”
Arthur sighed, then nodded. “I thought as much. I thank ye for yer aid, Mr.…”
“Virgil Standish, Sir.”
“I thank ye for yer aid, Mr. Standish.”
“My pleasure, Sir. I only wish that it were under different circumstances.”
“As do I. Shall I aid ye in the packing o’ the professor’s belongings? I can take them tae his daughter when we have finished.”
“I would be glad of the company, Sir.”
“Arthur MacDonald, Earl o’ Irondale.”
“My Lord,” Mr. Standish bowed in respect. “I did not know who you were. My apologies.”
