He felt like a caged tiger as he looked at the three dark-suited men they had brought with them to arrest him.
"Good God, you can't be serious!" he exploded. "I'm a doctor! I save lives, I don't take them!"
"Even a doctor can be driven to murder if he's trying to protect himself from, say, blackmail?"
"I'm telling you, I haven't done anything wrong! I haven't seen either of those two women for weeks. I'm a happily married man," Blake protested as Malcolm Branson and his father Geoffrey continued to question him.
"Ask my wife, the servants. As for Molly the serving girl, I wouldn't even know what she looked like! We were away from here for weeks. How could I have been having an affair with her?"
"We know where you were, sir. With a very badly beaten young lady who answers to the description of your wife. Why did you attack her?"
"I didn't! I found her-" Even as the words left his mouth he realised how lame they sounded, making him seem all the more guilty. "I would never hurt Arabella in a million years."
"The fact is that these assaults on women began when you came into the district. Your property was found at the scene of each murder."
"What property?"
"A cufflink, and a handkerchief."
"One cufflink? Where?"
"One at each place."
"Two different cufflinks?"
"No, one each of the same pair," Malcolm admitted.
"But don't you see, if I had lost one why would I wear only one? Were they killed on the same night?"
"No, three days apart."
"And which cufflinks are they? My valet has access to all of my things. Indeed any servant in the house would. Some of my things have gone missing. We assumed Molly had taken them. You can ask my valet!"
Malcolm presented them. They were a black onyx pair, which he had not laid eyes on since before his wedding.
He shook his head. "I haven't worn them since before I got married. Someone stole them and planted them."
"We would expect you to say that," Geoffrey Branson said mildly. He was having a hard time believing this heir to the Jerome estate could possibly be such a monster, but the evidence forced him to consider the possibility.
"We have to pursue every line of inquiry. We need to match up names, dates and places, talk to your valet, the other servants. The fact is that there is a string of beaten, strangled or poisoned women from London to here, from your clinic, right the way through various inns all the way to Bristol."
"I'll help in any way I can. I know I haven't done anything wrong. I'm happy to answer all of your questions, but I need to find my wife first. I want to make sure she's safe, and she can speak with you, tell you all is well."
"And who was the woman you pretended to be married to at the inn outside Reading back in December?" Malcolm asked, trying to take him by surprise. "She was brought to London by a kindly apothecary, and vanished from her William Street lodgings."
"That was Arabella. She didn't vanished. The lease on her step-brother Peter's chambers expired. She moved into my house as my ward, and she's been with me safely ever since."
Father and son looked at each other in surprise.
"Please, let me go get my wife. She has a bit of a memory problem after the attack upon her, but she can tell you how we met, and that she was the woman at Rede Village."
They were about to go out to seek Arabella when Oliver Neville burst into the room, shaking from head to toe.
"Please, you have to listen to me. You've got the wrong man. Blake hasn't done anything. It's my brother Adam who's to blame for all of this."
"What?" Malcolm gasped.
Blake stared at him, stunned.
Oliver nodded. "I didn't believe him at first when Adam boasted about what he had done, killed them and planted evidence to make it look like Blake had done it. But it's true. They're both dead. I've just heard the news and came straight here. Adam said Blake would be blamed, that he would hang," he panted. ""I also heard that the authorities were here to arrest you. I say, Blake, I'm so sorry--"
"They haven't arrested me yet, but will if I can't give a good account of myself," Blake said.
Oliver continued to tremble. "Adam said, oh God, he said he attacked Arabella. On your wedding night. Is this true?"
Blake nodded, so furious he almost choked. "I found her under a tree that night. It has to be true. It has to be Adam. Whoever attacked her is the only person who knew about it. I kept it quiet so that she wouldn't be accused or thought ill of. He would have lied to ruin her, and said she had gone to him willingly. He beat her to a pulp." He took a ragged breath. "I can't tell, but I think he also raped her."