A Lady's Guide to Gossip and Murder. Dianne Freeman

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СКАЧАТЬ He leveled his gaze at Charles, then me. “That said, I expect confidentiality from both of you. None of this can be made public.”

      Charles waved a hand. “Yes, yes. Mum’s the word and all that. After all, I’m hardly likely to discuss this with anyone. Not much for gossip myself.”

      “Though I have every confidence you’ll both act with discretion, you’ll be taking in a great deal of information. Take care that none of it slips out.”

      George waited for an affirmative reply from both of us. “All right then, let’s get to work, shall we?”

      He handed each of us a bulging file of paper.

      I seated myself in the guest chair next to Charles. “What exactly are you hoping to find in here?”

      George took the chair behind the desk. “Anything that looks like fodder for blackmail. The more damning, the more likely. You might want to start with the most prominent names you find.”

      “Are you staying to help us? I thought you intended to check up on the police investigation today.”

      “That was my plan, but the constables were canvassing Mrs. Archer’s neighbors again this morning. I’ll need to wait for them to leave before I can nose around without causing suspicion. Only Delaney is aware of my involvement, and my official assignment is these files, not removing a suspect from their list.”

      He glanced at the clock on the shelves behind his desk. “They should be finishing up about now. I’ll just stay long enough to get you two started in this quest.”

      I wondered if his caution about the constables’ presence meant he planned to sneak into Mary’s house. George had taught me the art of searching someone’s residence without their knowledge a few months ago. Since I wasn’t sure Charles knew about his friend’s more clandestine activities, I decided the question would have to wait. Following George’s instructions, I settled the file on my lap, untied the string, and pulled out the first page.

      It made absolutely no sense. Letters followed by dashes, sets of initials, and fragments of words littered the page. “What on earth is this meant to be?” I turned the page around to show George and watched his eyes glaze over in confusion as he took it in.

      “It appears she’s used a type of short writing, or stenography.”

      “Stenography?” I turned the page back to scrutinize it again.

      A.S.W. dning? at Sav wt E.C? or E, PoW? Nt sn in public rms.

      I stared across the desk at George. “How am I ever to determine what this means?”

      He leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin while he stared back at me. “The note Delaney showed you, about yourself. Was it written in this manner?”

      “No.” I stared over his head at the bookshelves and tried to picture the note. “Well, some of the words were abbreviated but Graham’s name, and mine, were written out.”

      “Like this?” Charles handed me a page from his file. I read it aloud.

      “‘Lady Elinor Finch held a festive gala at the Royal Opera House last Christmas much to everyone’s delight—except the proprietors, who wonder if she’ll ever pay them.’ ”

      I let out a snort of laughter before recovering myself. “Good heavens, how did Mary hear of this?” I handed the page to George. “And yes, that’s precisely how mine was written.”

      George placed the coded note on the desk, facing Charles and me, and beckoned us closer. “Let’s try to decipher this one, shall we? The content may explain why she chose to record it in this manner.”

      “The letters followed by periods are likely initials, don’t you think?” Charles looked at us for agreement.

      “A.S.W.,” I read. “Alicia Stoke-Whitney?”

      “Possible,” George muttered. “A number of E.C.s come to mind.”

      “Oh, my goodness.” My hand rose involuntarily to my chest as I glanced at my companions. “There can be only one interpretation for the next set.”

      “Edward, Prince of Wales.” Charles waved a dismissive hand. “No point blackmailing him. The man’s never in funds.”

      “Then E.C. is likely Ernest Cassel.” George’s gaze darted between the two of us, seeking confirmation.

      “Makes sense,” Charles agreed. “The two are close friends.”

      “And bear a striking resemblance to one another.” Now that we’d identified the principals in the note, or at least guessed at them, it made more sense. “Look, she is questioning whether it was the prince or Cassel with Alicia. Since she mentions dining, Sav is probably the Savoy.”

      “Dining is followed by a question mark and she further notes the couple was not seen in the public rooms of the hotel. Leading one to wonder where they disappeared to once inside.”

      “Heavens, will Alicia never stop trifling with other women’s husbands?” Neither man answered my question. Likely because it was commonly known Alicia and my late husband had spent a great deal of time—trifling.

      I pondered the note as I stared across the desk at George. “Alicia’s husband threatened her with divorce,” I said. “At least that’s what she told me a few months ago. This little story would certainly provide him with grounds.”

      He pursed his lips. “The question is, does Alicia want to hold on to her husband, and reputation, enough to pay a blackmailer to keep this story quiet?”

      “Or does the gentleman?” I asked.

      He raised his brows. “I’d say that’s a contender.”

      “I agree. The note about Lady Finch, while embarrassing, is hardly worthy of blackmail. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t bother disguising the note with this stenography-short writing code. Are all yours like that, Charles?”

      He raised a few pages in his hand. “Everything I’ve read so far has been crystal clear and completely dull.”

      I thumbed through mine. More abbreviations and seemingly random letters. “Well, unless Charles wants to trade files with me, I don’t see how I’ll get through this lot without a copy of Debrett’s.”

      George held up his index finger as he stood. “I may have one here.”

      I’d spoken in sarcasm, but on second thought, a guide to the peerage might come in handy. George found the book and dropped it with a thud on the desk beside the first suspicious letter.

      “If you find any further likely suspects,” he said, tapping the first note, “stack them here and we’ll determine what to do about them when I return. In the meantime, if the two of you feel comfortable with this task, I’ll move on and see how the police are proceeding.”

      Charles slapped another page upside down on the desk. “I haven’t found anything other than general gossip so far, but I do comprehend the assignment.”

      George paused in his departure. Charles СКАЧАТЬ