A Murder in Time(118)

Aldridge shot a quick glance around, then held out his arm. “Shall we walk . . . away from listening ears?”

They paired up, with Kendra escorted by the Duke, and Rebecca walking with the doctor. Like the other couples, they meandered seemingly at random along the flagstone paths. Unlike everyone else, they spoke of death.

Munroe began, “I am not a botanist. However, His Grace kindly assisted me in identifying the debris we found embedded in Miss Duprey’s shoe, stockings, and clothing. To wit, we discovered crushed bits of Campanula glomerata—purple bell flowers—acorn seeds, pine needles, twigs from the live oak tree, all of which are common in the area.”

Aldridge nodded. “Unfortunately, there is no way to pinpoint Miss Duprey’s location based on that. Yet we found one discrepancy. The stain on Miss Duprey’s pelisse was potash.”

Kendra frowned. “Potash? That’s some sort of fertilizer, isn’t it?”

“That is its main use, yes. Certainly here in the countryside, its most common use would be as such, or as a supplement for stock feed.”

“I don’t understand. If it’s so common, what’s the discrepancy?”

“’Tis more a matter of where it was on her person, and where it was not,” Munroe answered. “As you may recall, the potash was located on the upper back of Miss Duprey’s pelisse—not on the garment’s hem. Nor did she have any traces of the compound on her lower skirt, or stockings, or the sole of the shoe that she still had on. In other words, she did not run through fields or gardens fertilized with potash.”

“Then she probably picked up the trace evidence wherever she was stored until the killer could dump her on the path,” Kendra said slowly.

“Exactly my thought,” Dr. Munroe agreed.

“Of course, there’s another possibility.”

The Harry Potter glasses glinted in the sunshine as he looked at her. “What, pray tell, would that be, Miss Donovan?”

“She could’ve had the stain on her coat before she met the killer,” she pointed out. “We’re assuming it happened here.”

Aldridge beamed at her. “Excellent point, my dear! Post hoc ergo propter hoc. I told you, Dr. Munroe, that Miss Donovan has a keen and discerning mind. We cannot jump to a false conclusion based on a coincidental correlation.”

Munroe smiled. “Very true, sir. Alas, I cannot determine when Miss Duprey’s coat was contaminated, only that it is contaminated.” He shook his head. “’Tis a most fascinating case, I confess. I have worked many times with the London Watch and Bow Street Runners like Mr. Kelly. I am familiar with the more unsavory elements of humanity. The criminal element.” He gave Kendra a thoughtful look. “I must say, your hypothesis that a man of good birth is responsible for these despicable acts is disturbing, Miss Donovan.”

“That’s another fallacy, Doctor—that evil is limited to the lower classes.”

“You are correct, of course. Still, I have encountered more crime in the bowels of London than in a privileged environment like Aldridge Castle.”

“I’m not talking about crime brought on by desperation and poverty. I’m talking about evil. That has no class. In the fifteenth century, Countess Elizabeth Báthory of Hungary was convicted of torturing and murdering more than eighty young girls. She confessed to killing more than six hundred. She was an aristocrat.”

“Dear heaven,” Rebecca breathed.

Munroe eyed Kendra curiously. “I am aware of the account. However, as you noted, it was the fifteenth century. As I recall, the countess was under the belief that virgin blood would enhance her beauty and make her immortal. People of that era believed that witches and wood sprites brought about disease.”

“Superstitious nonsense,” the Duke sniffed.

“Times have changed, Miss Donovan. Mankind has evolved. We are more enlightened thinkers than our ancestors.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

He raised his brows. “You don’t believe we are evolving as a species?”

She thought of her earlier epiphany, that she wasn’t superior to her nineteenth-century compatriots. And she thought of the countless murder boards she’d stood before, centuries from now, detailing man’s depravity toward man, and shook her head. “We might be becoming more civilized as a whole—and I’m not even sure about that—but I don’t think mankind ever really changes. We’re not smarter, better, kinder people, Doctor.” She paused, grim. “We’re just inventing better technology.”

Aldridge gave her a puzzled look. “Technology? You mean, techniques?”

Dammit. “Or tools. We have better tools. They’ve improved and will continue to improve. But human beings?” The sun was shining, but she felt cold. “I think people like Sam Kelly and you, Dr. Munroe, will always have work. Because there will always be monsters.”





47

The sun was sinking behind the green and gold fields, casting long skinny shadows over the landscape, by the time Sam returned to Aldridge Castle. He’d spent the entire day riding over the sodding countryside, trying to chat up the snooty servants in the neighboring households. It always amazed him how they adopted the airs of their betters, looking down their noses at the likes of him, even when he brought out his Bow Street Runner baton. He much preferred outdoor servants, the stable hands, and gamekeepers, down-to-earth folk whose tongues could be loosened with a dram of whiskey.