that I might be able to extend my business to a wealthier clientele." "Bloody hell," Baxter said very softly.
She pretended not to have heard him. There was no turning back now. She had already said too much. She must press on and hope for the best. "Her name was Mrs. Drusilla Heskett. I conducted the inquiries she requested and gave her my report. She paid me and I assumed that was the end of the matter. I hoped she would recommend me to some of her friends." "What happened?" "Last week she was found murdered in her own bedchamber. Shot dead by a housebreaker, the authorities said. All of her servants had been dismissed for the evening. I have some cause to believe that the person who killed her was one of the men whom I had investigated on her behalf." "Good God."
She turned to face him. "I must learn the truth, sit." "Why? What business is it of yours?" "Don't you see? If the man who murdered her was one of those whom I had investigated and perhaps recommended as honest and sincere, then, in a sense, I bear part of the responsibility for her murder. I must determine the truth of the situation."
Just what is it that makes you think the killer was one of her suitors?" Baxter asked swiftly. "I received a note from Mrs. Heskett on the very day of her death- In it she stated that she had been nearly run down twice in recent days, once on the street and once in a park. In both instances,
44
Amanda Quick
the vehicle was a black phaeton. She feared that the incidents were
not mere accidents, but actual attempts on her life."
"Bloody hell. " "She did not see the driver's face but she came to the logical conclusion that one of her rejected suitors was so enraged by her refusal to wed, he was trying to murder her. The next morning I learned of her death. Hardly a coincidence, Sir. I must discover the truth."
"And you expect me to assist you in this crazed quest?" "Yes, I most certainly do." She was beginning to grow annoyed. "You agreed to accept the post and I am paying you an excellent salary, Sir. I expect you to fulfill your duties as my man-of-affairs and as a bodyguard. It all seems quite simple and straightforward
to me.
"About as simple and straightforward as the phlogiston theory of combustion," Baxter retorted. "I beg your pardon?" "Nothing, Miss Arkendale. I merely made a passing reference to
that old nonsense the Germans came up with concerning the substance phlogiston. The theory was said to explain the combustion of materials. It relates to chemistry. I doubt that you are familiar
with it."
She raised her brows. "On the contrary, Mr. St, Ives, I am well
aware that a few years ago Lavoisler conducted several exceedingly clever experiments that disproved the old theory of phlogiston."
It took Baxter a moment to digest that. "You have an interest in
chemistry, Miss Arkendale?" "No." She made a face. "But I w required to read Mr. Basil
fre, Valentine's Conversations on Chemistry the schoolroom, just as is
virtually every other young person in @ngland. Some of the information managed to stick in my brain." "I see." Baxter's gaze was inscrutable. "I take it you found Valentine's book exceedingly dull?"
45
"Chemistry is not a favorite subject of mine." She gave him an
apologetic smile' "I have other interests."
"I can well believe that." "Perhaps we should return to the subject of Mrs. Heskett's mur-
der," Charlotte said grimly. "Indeed. Tell me, Miss Arkendale, just how do you propose to
go about finding the killer?" "Mrs. Heskett rejected four men during the past month. One, a
Mr, Charles Dill, died of a heart seizure two weeks ago, so he can be discounted as a suspect. The other three are Lords Lennox,
Randeleigh, and Esly. I intend to interview all of them. But first we
must Start with an examination of the scene of the crime."
Baxter blinked owlishly. "An examination?" "I intend to search Drusilla Heskett's town house for clues."
"You intend to do
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