A Changing Light by Edith Maxwell (pdf ebook reader .txt) 📗

her a kindly look. “Ah, Mrs. Weed. Back for another visit, I see.”

If I were one to curse, I would do so now. She’d been about to tell me something important, her words flowing almost as fast as the water in the Powow River. But the gate on that millrace had just clanged shut.

Chapter Twenty-four

“I think Prudence saw something the night of the murder,” I told Kevin in his office a few minutes later. “She was about to tell me when thee walked in.”

“More’s the pity. I’ll have a little chat with her before she leaves.”

“Good.”

“But Mrs. Weed landing back in the lockup isn’t why you were looking for me.” He tilted his head and tented his fingers.

“No.” I considered how to phrase the information about the gun. If I told him, Frannie’s girl would have to be involved. I had no way to get around Kevin needing to speak with her. I let out a sigh. It was unavoidable. “Apparently Ned Bailey has a gun in his bureau at home. The girl who works for him saw him hurrying to hide something the morning after the murder.”

“What?” Kevin slammed his hand on the table.

“She later was putting away his clean laundry and saw the gun.” I didn’t need to tell Kevin it was in with his undergarments. He would only be embarrassed.

“How in the devil’s name did you learn this?” he asked.

“Thee needn’t bring Lucifer into the matter, Kevin.”

“I apologize, Miss Rose. You’re right.” He chuckled. “You always keep me on the straight and narrow, as it were. Now, about this information. Who is this mysterious girl?”

“I have an acquaintance named Mrs. Frannie Eisenman. The girl who helps in her kitchen primarily works for Ned. Frannie told me this morning.” I held up my hand when he began to speak. “I didn’t get the girl’s name. Frannie said she’s a recent immigrant from Greece and is terrified of police.”

“Eisenman, you say?” He scribbled on a notepad.

“Yes, with one n at the end. She lives down near the beginning of Maple Street, not far from the Friends Meetinghouse.”

“Duly noted.”

“Is thee going to need to talk with the girl?” I asked.

“If I do, I’ll be gentle, have no fear. But it’s possible going straight to the source will be more effective.”

“To Ned. Good idea. If this gun was the murder weapon, why would he have it in his possession if he didn’t use it?”

He nodded slowly. “I suppose he could have come across it the next morning wherever the killer dropped it. But he should have brought it directly to us, not secret it away in his own home. I confess this case continues to confound me. I could use a break in it.”

“Thee isn’t holding Zeb Weed.”

“I have no evidence against him. And he won’t tell me a blasted thing, either.”

“How about the plans that were taken?” I asked. “Has thee learned what they were?”

“Mr. Bailey the elder said they were for some kind of new model.”

“Who had the opportunity to steal them?”

He frowned. “He couldn’t remember where he’d left them. I think he’s going soft in the head, frankly. But I do know Mr. Ned Bailey took both those Canadians to visit his uncle the evening before the murder.”

“Didn’t I tell thee so?”

“You quite possibly might have.”

I cocked my head, thinking. “Kevin, I don’t think I’ve had the chance to tell thee what Ned told me the next day about his own plans. Have I?”

“No, you have not.” He looked exasperated. “Out with it, Miss Rose.”

He must be feeling frustrated with the lack of progress. “He said he wants to put a motor in a carriage body and make a vehicle that moves by its own power. He called it a motorcar. The missing plans might be for exactly that.”

“A motorcar?” He squinted at me. “That’s crazy.”

“Maybe, or perhaps it’s the future. I just realized I’d never shared that with thee. Although Ned made it sound like he had drawn up the plans, not his uncle.”

“Be that as it may,” Kevin said. “I also haven’t gotten anywhere with Mr. Parry.”

“How about with Luthera?” I asked. “Has thee determined her whereabouts the night of the murder?”

“Mrs. Harrington? Have you lost your senses, Miss Rose?”

“Not at all. I can think of a number of reasons a wife might have to extinguish her husband’s life.”

“True enough. The answer is no, I haven’t. Yet.” He stood and clapped his hat on his head. “But first I have to see a man about a gun.”

I pushed up to standing. Kevin took a second look at me.

“I say, Miss Rose. I hope this isn’t overly forward of me to say, but I’d venture a guess you are in the blessed way. Am I right?”

I laughed. “If by that thee means am I pregnant? Yes, I am. David and I have been well blessed and will have a baby of our own this summer.”

Kevin beamed. “That’s splendid news. I’ll tell my Emmaline tonight, if I may. She’ll be thrilled for you.”

“Please do tell her.”

“You’d best not be doing any more assisting in this case. I mean, I thank you for the information you bring me, but you have a wee bun in the oven to protect.”

“I promise not to do anything to endanger myself or the foetus, Kevin.” This was a promise I intended to keep.

Chapter Twenty-five

I trudged to Alma’s house, my steps growing heavier the closer I got. My grief at losing Orpha had been suppressed by Esther’s birth and the investigation. It now flooded back in. I could only imagine how Alma was feeling. Still, my dress became tighter by the hour, it seemed. Alma had telephoned this morning saying my new garments were ready. It would be an enormous relief not to have a constriction around my waist.

Alma pulled open the door and welcomed me in.

“How is thee?” I asked her.

“I’m sad. Having work to do helps. And you?”

“The same.” I gazed at Orpha’s rocking chair in the parlor where we stood, and