Vow of Deception (The Ministry of Curiosities #9)(71)

He was joined by a smiling Mr. Yallop. "Excellent timing," Mr. Yallop said. "We were just leaving."

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Looking for these." Mr. Yallop indicated the constable wheeling a wheelbarrow between garden beds. It was filled with the hessian sacks we'd buried the files in.

I froze. Even my heart ground to a halt. "What…?" was all I managed to say.

"It's the evidence that will convict your fiancé and close down the ministry."





Chapter 15





Seth blocked the exit and inspected the hessian bags in the wheelbarrow. He would have opened one if Mr. Yallop hadn't slapped his hand away. "We've never seen this before," Seth told him.

Mr. Yallop merely smiled that sickly smile.

The detective ordered his man to load the evidence onto the carriage.

"Evidence?" Seth said, all innocence. "Evidence of what?"

"My guess is those are the files Mr. Fitzroy refused to hand over," Fullbright said. "They'll prove he has been withholding information about potential murderers from us."

"You planted them here!"

"Nice pun." Mr. Yallop chuckled.

"Nobody planted anything, sir," the detective said to Seth. "I became suspicious after my constables reported this entire walled garden had been covered with manure when the rest of the garden had not. It's too hot to be spreading manure. I'm a gardener in my spare time, and I only spread manure in spring. Early summer is not the best time."

"What do the files prove?" I asked. "How can they convict Lincoln of conspiracy to murder?"

"The thing is, Miss Holloway," Mr. Yallop said, "Mr. Fitzroy's refusal to hand them over didn't look good. But you are correct, it's not enough to convict him. I suspect proving that he was involved with Mr. Gawler and the murders will be, however."

"Lincoln had nothing to do with them! He was trying to find out who caused the deaths, just as you were."

"Mr. Yallop, sir," the detective warned. "Don't divulge too much."

"There's no harm in telling them that you spoke with Mr. Gawler's friends and neighbors, Fullbright. They all mentioned how Mr. Fitzroy called upon Gawler several times, both before and after the murders. Snippets of their conversations were overheard."

"Sir," Inspector Fullbright hissed.

"They spoke about the murders in an attempt to find out who did them," I cried, "not because they were colluding."

"Fitzroy defended Gawler," Mr. Yallop said.

The inspector shook his head and stormed off toward the carriages.

"That doesn't make him guilty," Seth growled.

"Doesn't it?" Mr. Yallop walked off too, the other constables in his wake.

"Mr. Yallop, please!" Alice called after him. "You can't do this. Lincoln and Charlie are getting married tomorrow."

"It will have to be put off until after the trial." Mr. Yallop stopped and looked at me. All supercilious smiles had vanished, and he seemed in earnest. "If I were you, Miss Holloway, I'd call off the wedding indefinitely. You should distance yourself from him. Being closely associated with Fitzroy now will not work in your favor."

I felt sick. I slumped against the brick wall and closed my eyes. My dream of marrying now lay in ruins. But worse, Lincoln's freedom and life were at risk.

I'd never thought it would come to this. He was so competent, so self-assured, that he almost seemed above the law, or perhaps outside it, somehow. He'd not always followed a straight and narrow path to get results, yet none of that had ever got him into trouble before. Not on this magnitude.

It was being the leader of the Ministry of Curiosities that had brought about his downfall, the very essence of his identity—indeed, the reason for his existence at all. How cruelly ironic.

Alice and Seth flanked me as we headed back to the house. My. Yallop had driven off in one coach while Inspector Fullbright oversaw the loading of the files into the other.

"By the way," he said. "You were acquainted with the late Lady Harcourt, so I was told."

"Yes," Seth said. "And?"

"I feel obligated to tell you that she may not have taken her own life as first thought. A witness has come forward claiming he saw someone push her."

"Push her!" I said. "Who?"

"A man, according to the witness, but he could give no description. The suspect wore a hooded cloak."

"In the middle of summer?"

"Is Scotland Yard investigating?" Seth asked.

"Of course," the detective said, "but I'm afraid that unless another witness comes forward with a description of the hooded man, it will likely come to nothing. I simply wanted you to know that she did not take her own life. I hope it's some comfort to you in your time of loss."

Neither Seth nor I spoke. I felt somewhat guilty that we were not mourning her, and perhaps he felt the same. "That's very kind of you, Inspector," Alice said. "We appreciate you telling us. Have you told her family?"

"Lord Harcourt and Mr. Buchanan have been informed." He climbed onto the coachman's perch beside the driver and touched the brim of his hat to bid us good day.