A Plague of Sinners by Paul Lawrence Read Free Book Online Page A

told us of, the man whom Wharton cheated. One conversation with him might be all that was required to solve the crime. First, though, I needed to discover how Liz fared.
    I approached Seething Lane from the north, past St Olave’s. I walked slow, ready to turn should I spot a watcher outside their door. But the street was clear save for two women, walking arm in arm, chattering furiously. Surely they would not be so oblivious were there a fresh red cross there to attract their attention.
    I knocked, and Edward opened the door, Willis’ servant, tall and silver-haired. His mouth smiled but his eyes did not. He took a short step sideways, reluctant it seemed, to let me pass. The hall smelt of vinegar, sign that the house had been scrubbed and scoured.
    Liz emerged from the dining room dressed only in an old morning gown. ‘Harry,’ she greeted me in sober tones. Her face gleamed clean and pale. She placed a hand upon my sleeve. ‘You have come back.’
    ‘I came to see what happens.’
    ‘Come in then.’
    I allowed her to pull me gently over the threshold and up the stairs to a bright room overhanging the street below. She sat upon the edge of a wide-armed chair and turned her green eyes upon me. Today they gleamed like glass, bright and sharp, bereft of warmth.
    ‘I told the churchwarden where to find him,’ I told her.
    ‘I know you did,’ she whispered.
    ‘Did you hear anything of it?’
    She bowed her head. ‘Yes. The churchwarden discovered it and told Mrs Hedges and she will have him buried. Tomorrow, I think.’
    ‘You look tired.’
    She nodded. ‘We spent all that night cleaning the house. Mrs Allen, the searcher, arrived shortly after dawn.’ She dabbed at her eyes and bowed her head. ‘She was very good.’
    Something was wrong. My chest weighed heavy with dread. ‘So all is right?’
    ‘No,’ she exclaimed, tears flowing. ‘James is gone.’
    My mouth dried as I struggled to recall the face of the eager young man who had helped me that night. ‘Dead?’
    ‘No!’ she cried out. ‘At least that’s not what I meant.’ She sniffled. ‘He became feverish soon after you left, so I sent him to his bed. In the morning he was gone.’
    ‘He has relatives?’
    ‘No.’ She shook her thick auburn hair about her slender shoulders. ‘He has lived with us since he was a boy. He is almost my age.’ She attempted to dry her face with a flimsy mouchoir. ‘He wouldn’t leave without telling us where he went. I am afraid something is wrong.’
    I recalled the memory of James wiping sauce from Hedges’ face, eager to help, careless how close he put his face to the body. That night had been a grand adventure for him. Liz said he became feverish. Feverish with plague was clearly her fear.
    I leant over and took her hands gently. ‘I am sorry, Liz.’
    Her hands tensed. I wondered if she blamed me for James’ departure. It had, after all, been my idea to deposit Hedges upon the street. My idea that James helped to carry him. On the other hand perhaps Hedges contracted the plague here, while he ate, and James contracted the disease from here also. I thought of letting her hand go.
    ‘I wish I could do something,’ I offered, without thinking.
    She raised her pretty chin and turned those eyes upon me once more. My soul grew little wings and tried to fly out my throat. ‘Perhaps you can,’ she murmured.
    ‘Name it.’
    She selected her words with great deliberation. ‘Will you help us find James?’
    ‘Of course,’ I replied, fearful what this might lead to. ‘Where have you looked?’
    ‘Father has been walking the streets since yesterday. He is out there now.’ She turned to the window. ‘I don’t know where he looks, but I doubt he will find him.’
    I detected some lack of faith in her bitter tone, and wondered what it meant. Had Willis disappointed her some way? I first met Oliver Willis while conducting an investigation on behalf of Lord Arlington. I had been assigned to follow him on