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The Witch Hunter's Tale(33)

By:Sam Thomas


Will considered this for a moment and gave me a curt nod.

“That is possible,” he said. “If Joseph spoke ill of Mr. Breary, Preston might have killed him without asking permission.”

“Very well, Mark Preston,” I said. This concession seemed enough for the moment, so I left well enough alone.

“Is there anyone else?” Martha asked. “Can you think of anyone who might have profited from his death? Who might have been jealous of his success?”

Will pondered the question for a moment and, to my surprise, his ears pinked as if he’d thought of something unseemly.

“What is it?” Martha asked. She had noticed the change as well.

“It is nothing, I’m sure,” Will said. “It could not be.”

“Obviously it could be, or else you wouldn’t have thought of it,” Martha replied. “What is it? You must tell us.”

Will hesitated yet again.

“Will, the man is dead,” I said. “He has no more secrets. If he had some unsavory business dealings he would not be the only one in the city.”

Will shook his head, as if hoping to drive the thought from his mind. “It is not business,” he said. A pained look crossed his face, and I knew he could not hold out much longer.

“You must tell us,” Martha said.

After a moment, Will looked me in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Aunt Bridget. I could not tell you earlier. I would have said something if you had agreed to marry him.”

This threw me into confusion. “Will, why must you apologize to me? What is it?” I could not imagine a sin—in business or otherwise—that would have hurt me.

“Mr. Breary was a good man in many ways.” Will sounded as if the words were being ripped from his chest, and for the first time that evening he began to weep. “And he took me in when no other man in the city would even speak to me. He believed me, not Joseph’s lies. He defended me when nobody else would.”

“But there was more to him.” Martha took his hand.

Will nodded as the tears coursed down his cheeks. “Mr. Breary had taken a paramour of late,” he said at last. “I do not know who she was, but the signs could not be missed. I saw cryptic notes on his desk, listing only a time and place. When the time came, he would disappear for a few hours. He never told me where he went, and I knew I should not ask.”

“It could have been anything,” I replied. “A business dealing he could not yet share with you, or something to do with the city.”

Will shook his head. “I wish it were. But he hid nothing of his business from me. And when he came back he seemed more relaxed and vibrant than I’d ever seen him. A meeting for business would hardly do that to a man.”

I considered Will’s point for a moment before I realized why he’d been so reluctant to tell me of his suspicions.

“Will,” I said, my voice rising. “You knew that he was mired in such sinful courses, and that he intended to marry me, yet you said nothing of it?”

“I know,” he said. “I was going to tell you tonight, but it’s not the sort of thing I could bring up during supper.”

“Perhaps after he served the sweetmeats?” Martha said, trying to ease the tension in the room. “Mr. Breary could have presented the delicacy and let Will present the debauchery.”

Will and I smiled despite ourselves. I knew that he had done his best under difficult circumstances, and he seemed so miserable that I had to release my anger.

“Well, you did no harm,” I said at last. “And now we must consider our best course of action.”

Will and Martha agreed.

“Mark Preston seems the most likely culprit,” Martha said. “But how could we prove it?”

“What about Rebecca Hooke?” Will asked. “She had even more to lose than Joseph. Joseph would remain an Alderman even if he lost control of the witch-hunt. But if Rebecca lost her place as the Searcher, she would be as powerless as before.”

I nodded in agreement. “It is possible. The thought of losing yet another office to me—first that of a midwife then of a Witch Searcher—would drive her mad. But she is hardly strong enough to beat a man to death. And I cannot see her lying in wait for Mr. Breary on a night such as this.” The wind rattled the windows, as if to underscore my point.

“She would have hired someone,” Will said. “There are ruffians enough in the city.”

“Might she have sent James?” Martha asked.

Will and I shook our heads simultaneously.

“Not James,” Will said. “A fool such as he could never change his spots.”

I nodded in agreement. James Hooke was Rebecca’s only son, and if he’d taken after his mother, he would have been an imposing figure indeed. However, while he had his mother’s clear blue eyes, he also had his father’s kindly soul and weak mind. Twice in the past, he’d become embroiled in evil schemes, but never as the prime mover. He simply was too stupid to avoid the trouble that the world brought in his direction.