Page 72 of Honor Unbound

“Well.” Marie tugged at the hem of her pelisse. “News of Mr. Hicks’s death didn’t seem to affect her overmuch.”

Brett took her hand and led her down the hallway. “Indeed. But then, should it? She barely knew the man.”

Marie chewed on her bottom lip. “We didn’t do so well learning where she was at the time of Hicks’s death. Lady Mary will be disappointed.”

Brett was less concerned with Lady Mary’s disappointment and more with the fact a killer who’d attacked Marie was still running free.

They descended the staircase to find the foyer empty. Mrs. McKendrick and Bosko must still be taking their tea down below.

Marie turned for the front door, but Brett pulled her back. “One moment,” he said. “I want to see something.”

With an eye on the door to the lower floors, he circled behind the high desk and flipped open the ledger that lay there.

Yes.Just what he’d wanted. He began flipping backwards to the correct date.

“What are you doing?” Marie whispered.

“Mrs. McKendrick keeps records of the clients who patronize this establishment, as well as the women who…entertain them.” He ran his finger down one page and flipped to the next.

Marie peered over his shoulder. “It’s so neatly kept. Name, date, time…is that how much it costs to…?” She made a gesture with her hand. “You know?”

The edges of Brett’s lips twitched. “Some of these girls make very good money.” More often than not, however, the house took more than its fair share.

“Cor, I went into the wrong line of work.”

Brett leveled a glare at her. “No, you didn’t.”

She sighed. “No, I didn’t. Being a maid suits me fine.”

“Here.” He found the night Hicks was murdered. “Suzie, Hibby, Mary, Lizzie….” He finally found Peg’s name. He scanned until he found all instances of her name. “She’s marked in the books as having a client at ten that night, midnight, and two.”

“So orderly.” Marie sniffed.

“She was kept busy, but there would be enough time.” Brett tapped the page. “It is only a ten minute carriage ride to the factory from here. She could have gone between engagements.”

“Wot night?” The voice came from their feet.

Marie jumped.

Brett was hard-pressed not to leap back, as well. Bending down, he looked into the nook beneath the desk. It was Harold, the boy he’d paid to point out Peg on the street. “What are you doing down there?”

The boy shrugged. “It’s warm, innit?”

It was unseasonably warm both inside and out, but Brett supposed it was better than huddling on the street.

“Wot night do you want to know about Peg?” he asked. “I can tell you if she was here or not.”

Marie knelt next to him. “What do you know about it?”

The boy tapped his nose. “I know things. You went up to see Peg just now, didn’t you? You was asking about her before.” He nodded at Brett. “I know there’s been murders. Wot night?”

“Monday night or early yesterday morning.” Brett crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t you have a home to go to?”

“Never mind that,” the boy said. He shook his head. “T’weren’t Peg. She was here all that night.”

“How would you know that?” Marie asked. “You can’t see everyone’s comings and goings.”

“I can.” The boy pointed at a crack in the desk’s wood. “I can see the front door from here. But that don’t matter. I know because I was with Peg when she weren’t working.”