She blinked away the last remnants of sleep as her gaze swept over me. And then her eyes narrowed.
“You have blood on your collar,” she said. “And heaven knows what’s on your coat.”
I glanced down. There was indeed a smear of dried blood at my collarbone—likely O'Donnell’s, not mine—and my coat, still dusted with alley grime, had seen better centuries.
“I was going for inconspicuous,” I said.
“You look like you lost a fight with a chimney,” she replied dryly. “And only barely survived.”
“Not far off,” I said. “But it was O'Donnell who came out worse.”
She was on her feet, the last of sleep gone from her face. “O’Donnell attacked you?”
“In an alley behind the tavern. Got a bullet in his leg for the trouble. Just a graze, but enough to stop him.”
“You weren’t hurt?” Her concern was all for me, rather than the fact the murderer had been found.
“No.”
She stared at me a moment, her eyes searching mine. Finally, satisfied with what she saw, she asked, “Did he talk?”
“He did more than that. He confessed.”
“Did he, really?”
I nodded. “Heller hired him to kill Walsh. He’d been visiting the Red Hound for weeks, feeling out the regulars. Asking what they’d be willing to do for coin. Quiet, careful—never saying toomuch. But my informant saw through it. O’Donnell was the one who took the bait.”
“Where is O’Donnell now?”
“In custody. A constable saw the scuffle. We took him to the Yard. He gave a full statement.”
Her voice was quiet, razor-sharp. “Heller paid him to kill Walsh.”
“He called it a family solution. Said the title, the estate—everything—was slipping away. So he decided to remove the obstacles. One by one.”
She exhaled slowly, the weight of it all settling around her. “He would’ve killed both Julia and her babe.”
“But now, he won’t get the chance.”
“Thank God.”
“Yes.”
“And you.”
Chapter
Thirty-Four
REVELATIONS AND RESOLUTIONS
In the days that followed, events unfolded swiftly. Edwin Heller was located, arrested, and formally charged with the murders of both Julia’s husband and Charles Walsh. When Dodson had searched Heller’s house, he’d discovered a foxglove plant he’d been cultivating. So it wasn’t difficult to deduce what had occurred.
Once Charles moved into Walsh House, Heller made a point of visiting his cousin. That’s why he was there when Julia’s tea packet was delivered. At that point, all he had to do was tuck a few foxglove leaves into the packet before leaving it in the morning room with the note he’d written. Of course, he didn’t confess he’d done such a thing. But the testimony of both Steele’s informant and O’Donnell damned him. The trial was scheduled in the next week. Given the preponderance of the evidence, he would soon meet justice at the end of a rope.
The entire scheme made perfect sense. First he eliminated Lord Walsh, then Charles. Julia would not have survived long afterward. Heller likely intended her death to appear accidental—a fall down the stairs, perhaps—ensuring both she and her unborn child perished.
Lucretia, who was not increasing, would more than likely have been spared. For the time being, she planned to remain at Walsh House, at least until Julia gave birth. But it Julia’s babe was a boy, he would inherit the title and the estate. At that point, Lucretia would have to pack her things and move out. She wouldn’t be destitute by any means. Unlike his father, Charles had left her provided for. Given his precarious state of health, he’d arranged a quite comfortable fortune she could live on for many years.
