Wouldn't It Be Deadly (37 page)

Jack gave instructions to the actors and manager about giving their own statements, and waited until the disgruntled performers left the stage. He next ordered the detectives to carry Harrison, now unconscious, outside to the police wagon.

Higgins stretched out his legs, trying to find a more comfortable position on the throne. It appeared that the action hadn't yet drawn to a close. All he cared about, however, was that the real killer had been caught—and by Eliza Doolittle, no less. He fought back the impulse to yell from the throne, “I told you I was bloody innocent!” Higgins felt so lightheaded with relief, he considered grabbing Osric's flask and downing the rest of his brandy.

Eliza looked at her cousin. “What are we going to do about Major Redstone?”

“Indeed, what are we going to do about him?” Jack frowned at the Major, who remained expressionless and silent.

“I'm confused over what Aubrey has to do with all this,” Pickering said.

With a sigh, Eliza told everyone what had transpired backstage before she encountered Harrison. Higgins raised an eyebrow at the account. As he feared, too much romantic poetry turned a fellow into a dangerous idiot.

Jack walked over to Redstone, still flanked between two detectives. “So, Major, if Harrison hadn't killed Nepommuck first, would you have done the deed?”

Redstone stirred to life. “I don't know. But I'd like to think I would have had the courage to kill him. He deserved it.”

“And how much courage did it take to drag Eliza off into a closet and frighten her?” Higgins said, unable to keep the scorn from his voice.

Redstone shook his head. “I never meant to frighten her.”

“You did a pretty good job of it,” Eliza said.

He seemed ashamed. “Eliza, all I wanted was for you to return the book.”

“There was no need for you to steal the book in the first place, Aubrey.” Pickering was still confused. “On the day of Mrs. Finch's murder, we all went to Belgrave Square so that Eliza could give you the book. It makes no sense you would steal it from her classroom, and then chase her about the way you did tonight. You are a cad, sir.”

“Don't you see? If Eliza had given me the book, the police would have asked to see it.” Redstone grew more animated by the minute. “Everything in her apartment and Nepommuck's was evidence in a murder investigation. And Eliza had already said Nepommuck gave her
The White Rose
. I had no choice but to steal it. Only two copies were ever printed, and it would be easy to find the man in Lancashire who produced the books for me.”

“What if they had?” Pickering asked.

Higgins sighed. “It would show that our poetic Major had a motive to murder Nepommuck.”

“But he didn't murder him,” Eliza said.

“Lizzie, he just didn't get the chance.” Jack brushed a stray piece of plaster from her shoulder.

“Don't know how you can arrest a man for
wanting
to kill somebody.” Eliza had a familiar stubborn look on her face. Higgins thought Jack should give in. He wouldn't win the argument. “There were plenty of times I wouldn't have minded running one of these swords through the Professor's back when he was bullying me about my vowels.”

Higgins laughed. “The feeling was mutual.”

“That's not the same thing—”

“Yes, it is,” Eliza interrupted Jack. “I don't know the law as well as you do. But how can you arrest someone just for being angry enough to want to do them in? Half of London would be in prison if that was true.”

“You know she's right,” Higgins said.

“I wish she wasn't.” Jack walked over to Redstone. “You're lucky, Major. I'd arrest you for threatening Eliza and dragging her off against her will, but I'm afraid she wouldn't press charges.”

“Let him go, Jack. He scared me is all—and stole back a book that belonged to him.”

Jack nodded. “You can leave, Redstone, thanks to your young friend Eliza.”

“He's not my friend,” she said with obvious sadness. “Not anymore.”

Redstone walked across the stage, but stopped before Eliza. “Please accept my deepest apologies. I behaved like a scoundrel, but I would never have harmed you. Never. After Arabelle, I regard you as the dearest and best young woman I have had the honor to meet.”

Eliza turned aside, unwilling to meet his gaze.

Higgins leaned forward. “And you're not coming back to Wimpole Street, either. So that's the end of all the free room and board.”

With a last glance at Pickering, who avoided his eyes, Redstone exited stage left. His loud footsteps echoed in the empty theater.

“We'd best let the cleaning staff in here.” Jack stepped over the shattered remains of Yorick's skull. “I still have work back at the Yard, but I'll wait until tomorrow to take Eliza's statement. I think she's had more than enough surprises and drama for one night.”

“Indeed yes,” she said. “I've only been to the music hall. This is the first respectable play I've seen. Cor, but it was exciting.”

Higgins got to his feet and stretched. “Being chased by a killer probably made it more thrilling than the usual Shakespearean performance. However, I do admit this
Hamlet
is the most splendid night I have ever spent in the theater. The same cannot be said for the murder investigation itself.”

Eliza, Jack, and Pickering turned puzzled faces in his direction. “What do you mean, old chap?” the Colonel asked.

“He didn't fancy being the prime suspect, I suppose,” Eliza said.

“That, too,” Higgins said. “But look how predictably the case ended.”

They stared back at him.

“Don't you see?” Higgins grinned from ear to ear. “The blooming butler did it.”

The other three let out a collective groan.

“I'm just glad this is over and the killer's been caught.” Eliza scanned the littered stage with obvious satisfaction. “As Shakespeare would say, ‘All's well that ends well.'”

“That's the wrong play,” Higgins corrected.

“But the right sentiments,” Pickering added as he kissed the top of Eliza's head. “And the right lady to express them.”

“I agree, Pick,” Higgins said. “Our Eliza has shown herself to be resourceful, bold, and unstoppable, but a lady all the same.” He smiled over at her with affection. “A fair lady indeed.”

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

We would like to thank the Talbot Fortune Agency, for their lightning-quick offer of representation and for landing a publisher in such a short time; editor Toni Plummer Kirkpatrick, for believing our book was a winner; and our long-suffering spouses, Barry and Randy, and our brilliant daughters, Amanda and Emma, for their love and support. But our deepest thanks must be extended to Wayne State University, where the two of us first met. To this day, we've never used anything we learned from that Theory of Anthropology class, but it was well worthwhile. At the end of the semester, we left the class as lifelong friends—and future writing partners.

 

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

D. E. IRELAND is a writing team of two Michigan authors who met as undergraduates in an anthropology class and have remained friends ever since. Both are married to computer geeks, and each has one beautiful and brilliant daughter. Lifelong book lovers and history buffs, they have authored several novels on their own.

 

 

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously.

A THOMAS DUNNE BOOK FOR MINOTAUR BOOKS.

An imprint of St. Martin's Publishing Group.

WOULDN'T IT BE DEADLY.
Copyright © 2014 by D. E. Ireland. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.thomasdunnebooks.com

www.minotaurbooks.com

Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein

Cover illustration by Dan Craig

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The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

ISBN 978-1-250-04935-3 (hardcover)

ISBN 978-1-4668-5035-4 (e-book)

e-ISBN 9781466850354

First Edition: September 2014