Malice at the Palace (The Royal Spyness Series Book 9)
By: Rhys Bowen
Another horrid thought crossed my mind. “I suppose you should also check whether any newborn babies have been found abandoned or dead in the last three months,” I said. “She may have gone away to have it and then not been able to face the future and killed it. Dumped it in a river. In which case one might even have thought that she took her own life in remorse. You’re sure about the bruises on her face? They couldn’t have been formed by falling onto the cobbles?”
“Interesting thought, Lady Georgiana. But the medico was pretty sure. He said you could see where a thumb had pinched her nose shut. And her eyes showed indications of hemorrhage brought on by suffocation.”
“I see.” I shuddered, wondering if she was already unconscious at the time or whether she had struggled, fought to live.
“You’re one of the bright young things, aren’t you?” he said suddenly. “So maybe you’d know how we get in touch with her chums. There’s a young man in particular we know visits her flat from time to time. Don’t know if he’s a romantic interest or not, but he should certainly be able to tell us where she went to have the baby. He may even know who the dad might have been. Come to think of it, he may well have been the dad himself.”
“Oh, I’m afraid I didn’t move in Bobo’s circles,” I said. “I’m not often in London.”
“He was a fellow aristocrat,” the DCI said. “I’m sure your type bump into each other at hunt balls and things. The name is Darcy O’Mara. The Honorable Darcy O’Mara.”
Chapter 15
STILL NOVEMBER 5
The world stood still. I felt as if I had been punched in the gut. I couldn’t breathe. Inside my head words were screaming, “No, you’ve got it wrong. Darcy would never have been involved with a woman like that. Darcy would never . . .” But I had been raised to be part of a family that takes everything in its stride. A lady never displays emotion. If a native suddenly hurls a spear at a royal person and it misses, a slight nod of the head and royal smile are all that are permitted. That training kicked in now.
“I’m afraid I have no idea where you might find the Honorable Darcy O’Mara,” I said. “He is often out of the country. In fact you might ask Sir Jeremy. I believe Mr. O’Mara works for him, or in conjunction with him from time to time.”
“But you do know the young man?” he asked.
I wondered if it was a trap, that maybe he had known all along that I was close to Darcy. Maybe he already had him in custody.
“Yes, I know him.” I tried to sound frightfully breezy and offhand.
“Quite chummy with him, are you?”
This use of the words “chum” and “chummy” would have been irritating to me even if my nerves hadn’t been torn to shreds. “I haven’t seen him for several months, Detective Chief Inspector,” I said. “I hope that answers your question.”
“Not even a postcard from him?” He made a face that I wanted to slap. “Sir Jeremy seemed to think you were quite good pals.”
“Which we are. I have lots of good pals, but our class of person tends to travel a lot. Especially Mr. O’Mara.”
“So where did you see him last?”
“When I last saw him he was heading for the train station in Los Angeles. That was in August. Now, is there anything else I might be able to help you with?”
I was feeling really proud of myself. I went on, “So what makes you think that he has been staying at Miss Carrington’s flat recently?”
A smirk crossed his broad face. “I think a dressing gown behind the bedroom door with his initials on the pocket and his name on the laundry tag might do it. Oh, and it was behind her bedroom door. Not the spare room.”
He was enjoying this, I could see. Perhaps Sir Jeremy had told him that I had been sweet on Darcy. Perhaps he had a chip on his shoulder against aristocrats. Perhaps he just liked the feel of ruining other people’s lives. But I was not going to let him see my distress. I fought with every ounce of my being to keep my face a mask with a half-interested smile on my lips. I took a very deep breath before I spoke again. “Do you consider this gentleman a possible suspect in the case?”
“Only if he’s still in London and not in some far-flung part of the world. I would still need to rule him out as the father of the child. And as a potential suspect, for that matter.”
I couldn’t wait to escape. “Are there any other friends of mine you might want to check on?” I said. “As I told you before, I don’t spend much time in London and don’t have a large acquaintanceship here. If there’s nothing more, I should get back to Princess Marina. I’m charged with taking care of her, you know.” I stood up.
“We’ll be in touch, then,” he said. “And should Mr. O’Mara decide to contact you, please make sure he comes to have a little chat with me.”