Mrs. Jeffries Appeals the Verdict Emily Brightwell (great books for teens TXT) 📖

all of this

was over and done with.”

“A bit of inconvenience won’t kill him, sir,” Barnes said

as he lifted the brass knocker and let it fall. “If it was me,

I’d want to know the truth about what happened that night.”

“Let’s hope he’s in a cooperative mood,” Witherspoon

said.

A young maid opened the door. She drew back in surprise as she saw Barnes.

“May we see Mr. Muran, please?” Witherspoon said

quickly.

The girl looked flustered. “I’ll see if he’s receiving.”

She edged back, leaving the door open.

“This isn’t a social call,” Barnes said.

But by then the girl had gone.

From inside the hallway they heard the sound of muffled voices, and then a moment later the maid stuck her head back out. “Come this way, please. The master will see

you in his study.” She ushered them down the hallway and

into an elegantly furnished sitting room.

Keith Muran was standing by a fireplace at the other

end of the room. He didn’t look pleased to see them.

“Good morning,” he said curtly.

“Good morning, sir. I’m Inspector Gerald Witherspoon,

and this is Constable Barnes. We’re sorry to disturb you,

but we’ve come on some rather urgent business.”

“What business?” He sat down in one of the cream-

colored side chairs by the fireplace. “I’ve already retrieved

my pocket watch from your premises. I can’t see what business you could possibly have to discuss with me.”

“It’s not about your watch, sir,” Witherspoon said softly.

“It’s about the murder of your wife.”

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“Inspector Nivens assured me this was all over and done

with,” Muran replied. “My wife’s murderer is going to be

hanged very shortly.”

“There are some questions, sir.” Witherspoon didn’t think

it was going well, but he wasn’t about to give up and go

away.

“What questions?” Muran sighed heavily. “Inspector,

I’ve no idea what is going on, but I assure you, I’ve told the

police everything I can recall about that awful night.”

“I know this must be painful, but, well, there are a few

loose ends we must clear up.”

“Loose ends?” he repeated. “This has something to do

with Russell coming back, doesn’t it?”

“That’s true, sir,” Witherspoon admitted. Chief Inspector Barrows hadn’t said anything about keeping Mr. Merriman’s involvement a secret. “I’m sure Mr. Merriman’s return from the dead, so to speak, must have been a shock

to you.”

“Most certainly,” Muran replied. “When Mr. Brandon

told me the news, it was difficult to comprehend. Frankly, I

didn’t really believe it till I saw him with my own eyes yesterday afternoon.”

“As I said, Mr. Merriman isn’t satisfied that all the questions surrounding his sister’s death have been answered,”

Witherspoon said.

“Russell and Caroline were very close. She was devastated when she thought him dead,” Muran murmured. “I’m forgetting my manners. Please do sit down and make yourselves comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Witherspoon took a seat in an overstuffed

easy chair and Barnes perched on the edge of an empire-

style love seat.

Muran waited until the two men had settled themselves

and then he turned his attention to the inspector. “What is it

you want to know?”

“I’ve read your statement regarding what happened that

night, and there’s a couple of questions that need clearing

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up.” Witherspoon cleared his throat and tried to recall exactly what those questions might be.

“But I’ve already told you,” Muran replied. “I told the

police everything I can remember. Surely it was all in the

police report.”

“The report didn’t say why you went to Barrick Street in

the first place instead of going home,” Barnes said bluntly.

“But I explained to Inspector Nivens why we’d gone

there that night.” Muran looked confused.

“He didn’t put it in his report,” Witherspoon said.

“My wife wanted to have a quick look at a building we

were thinking of acquiring. She was considering buying

another building and expanding the business,” Muran explained.

“Wasn’t it rather late to be looking at a building?” Witherspoon asked.

“Of course it was,” Muran replied. “But she wanted to

have a look at the neighborhood. She was a very busy

woman, Inspector, but once she had an idea in her head, it

was difficult to sway her. She could be very stubborn. I told

her it was a foolish idea, that she couldn’t get a decent look

at a piece of property in the middle of the night, but she was

adamant.”

“I’m sure that’s true, sir,” Witherspoon said sympathetically. “I’m sorry to distress you, but it is important we ask these questions.”

“Why is it important?” he asked. “Caroline’s killer has

already been tried and convicted. I’ve answered questions

and testified in court. Frankly, sir, this is most distressing. I

understand that Russell is upset, but for God’s sake, he

shouldn’t try to alleviate his guilt that he wasn’t here when

she died by dredging all this up.”

“Do you think that’s what he is doing?” Witherspoon

queried. It didn’t really matter why Merriman had brought

the matter up again; they were duty bound to continue the

inquiry.

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123

“Of course he felt guilty. Russell had always turned his

back on his responsibilities so he could enjoy himself. He

left everything to Caroline—all the work, all the worry, and

all the decisions—while he rode off to have a grand time. He

was in jail, Inspector,” Muran added. “In California. Caroline thought he was dead. We’d been told he was dead.”

“Well he isn’t dead, sir, and he isn’t happy with the way

this case was handled, either,” Barnes said. “Would you

mind telling us what happened once you left the hansom

cab?”

“We got out and started walking toward the building,”

he replied. “Frankly, that’s really all I remember. The next

thing I knew I was in the hospital and there were two policemen next to my bed.”

“So you were knocked unconscious before your wife

was shot?” Witherspoon clarified.

“That’s correct,” Muran replied. “It was late, cold, and

dark, Inspector. I hadn’t wanted to stop in the first place, so

I was hustling Caroline along so we could get it over with

and get home. It’s all very vague, but I recall someone suddenly just being there and then I don’t remember anything at all until I came to in the hospital.”

“So you never really saw your assailant?” Witherspoon

pressed.

“That’s what I’ve just said,” he muttered.

“How were you planning on getting home?” Barnes

asked.

“What?” Muran looked surprised by the question.

“How were you planning on getting home?” the constable repeated. “You said it was cold and