“Well, then.” His lordship drew on his pipe. “And I suppose you have already given considerable thought to the nature of Mr. Gould’s defense.”
Morley hesitated. He had indeed given thought to the matter, and the end to which he had arrived was not at all satisfactory. It would not satisfy Masters and Dunderston; it would not satisfy Adam Gould; and it would most certainly not satisfy Amalgamated, since it would mean the loss of a valued employee. Nonetheless, he could think of nothing else to do.
“I’m afraid,” he said, “that I must direct Mr. Delderfield-he has agreed to take the case-to enter a guilty plea on behalf of Mr. Gould.” He was not happy with the choice of Delderfield, but he was the barrister with whom the firm usually did business, and anyway, it did not matter who handled the defense, for there was only one likely outcome. In a somewhat more diffident tone, he added, “Gould hasn’t a chance, of course. Defense is a waste of time and money. I can’t in good conscience advise Amalgamated of any course other than a guilty plea.”
“A waste of time?” His lordship’s eyebrows went up. “And what makes you say that?”
“The evidence.” Morley cleared his throat. “The bomb that was found in his flat. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Mr. Gould denies any knowledge of it, of course,” he added hastily.
“Of course,” his lordship said with an indignant air. He frowned. “The authorities were good enough to show this… bomb to you, then? What did it look like?”
“It was a ginger-beer bottle. Similar bombs were found in the rooms of the two accused with Mr. Gould.” He shook his head sorrowfully, as if at the folly of such unlawful activity.
“Ginger-beer bottles?” his lordship asked in an interested tone. “What sort of detonators did they have?”
Mr. Morley frowned. “Detonators?”
“In order to have a bomb,” Lord Sheridan said patiently, “one must have a means of detonating it. Of making it explode,” he added, as Mr. Morley’s frown deepened.
“I don’t know about that,” Mr. Morley replied irritably. “But all three of the bottles contained explosives, according to Inspector Ashcraft. Some sort of acid, I think he said.”
His lordship’s eyebrows went up. “What sort of acid? Picric acid? Nitric acid? Sulphuric acid?”
“Nitric acid, I believe,” Mr. Morley said doubtfully, although the truth was that he had not paid a great deal of attention to the details.
“So it was bomb-making material, not bombs, that the men are said to have possessed.”
“It is all the same under the law.” Mr. Morley could feel himself growing defensive. This was not the sort of affair that Masters, Morley, and Dunderston usually found themselves engaged with. It was-
“It is not the same under the law,” his lordship objected mildly. He paused, drew on his pipe, and expelled a stream of fragrant smoke. “The inspector seems to have been unusually forthcoming. Did you not find that a trifle… suspicious?”
Morley adjusted his cuffs. “I suppose I did,” he admitted. In fact, it had occurred to him that Inspector Ashcraft might have shown him the evidence with the aim of inspiring a guilty plea. But Morley was not familiar with the conduct of criminal cases, and for all he knew, the entire procedure might have been quite normal. Of course, had it not been for the insistence of their largest client, the firm would not have taken the case at all and Amalgamated was certainly not going to like the idea of a guilty plea. He shifted uneasily. He was in rather a spot, and he knew it.
“And you saw no reason to question the official explanation, I suppose, or the charge?” His lordship’s question was sharply put, and Morley winced.
“I did not,” he replied, conscious that his answer left something to be desired. “I have never pretended, sir, to be a Sherlock Holmes. I am a solicitor, sir, and if there is some mystery here, it shall have to be left to the police to solve. Trial is scheduled for next week-August twenty-sixth, to be precise-which does not allow a great deal of time for preparation.”
“August twenty-sixth?” his lordship asked with a frown. “Isn’t that rather precipitous?”
Morley shrugged. “It seems that the docket was clear, and the authorities-”
“The authorities want to get it over with.”
“I suppose.” Morley sighed. “It is a difficult case, if I may be permitted to say so, and there is a great deal of public opinion against the accused men. Although,” he added deferentially, “Mr. Gould is fortunate in having a gentleman like yourself in his corner.” He gave a nervous laugh. “As it were. So to speak.”
“I suppose,” Lord Sheridan said, pursing his lips in a judicious manner, “that this is not quite the sort of case that Masters, Morley, and Dunderston usually take. It is not the sort of thing that Delderfield handles, either.” He chuckled dryly. “Getting rather old, I should say.”
“It is not our usual case,” Morley replied, attempting to suggest by his tone just how far beneath the firm’s usual notice this case lay. “My partners and I should not have accepted it at all if Amalgamated had not insisted quite so… strenuously.” In fact, Masters and Dunderston had preferred to reject Amalgamated’s request. It had only been his insistence that carried the day, and now he was faced with the unpleasant task of telling them that Delderfield would be entering a guilty plea.
“I say, old chap,” his lordship said, interrupting Morley’s thoughts. “It seems to me that you’re in a bit of a bind here. It’s not the sort of case you normally undertake, and not the sort of case you’d like to see associated with the firm’s name, either-especially since you anticipate a conviction. And Delderfield isn’t your man, either, from what I know of him. P’rhaps I might suggest another barrister with a bit more experience along… shall we say, criminal lines. A bit more drive, too. He would not be so quick to plead Gould guilty.”
Morley eyed him speculatively, wondering if his lordship’s suggestion might help him avoid what promised to be an uncomfortable situation with Amalgamated. “Who did you have in mind?” he asked finally.
“Chap named Edward Savidge. Good man, quite competent in his line. I thought perhaps…” His lordship let the pause lengthen.
“I suppose we might be able to work something out,” Morley said, affecting reluctance. “But Amalgamated should have to agree.”
“I will undertake to obtain their consent,” his lordship said. He picked up his hat and stood. “We are agreed, then, that Masters, Morley, and Dunderston will request the services of Edward Savidge for Mr. Gould’s defense?”
“With pleasure, sir,” Morley replied with great alacrity, and took his lordship’s hand. “With pleasure.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
While women were recognized as superior gardeners, there was a distinct prejudice against women farmers. That is, women were encouraged to garden for enjoyment and to feed their families, but discouraged from doing it as a source of income.
Susan Blake,
“Women in Victorian Agriculture,” 2002
Kate always found it easiest and most pleasant to do her writing in the morning, beside the window in the library of Bishop’s Keep. It was her favorite room, the paneled walls lined with old leather-bound books, generations of her Ardleigh ancestors looking down from the wall, and Charles’s leather chair placed near the fireplace, her own upholstered one opposite. But perhaps it was Charles’s lingering presence in the room that made these surroundings so pleasant, and the recollection of their enjoyable teatime and evening conversations here. For Kate had discovered, much to her delight, that marriage to Charles Sheridan included a great many hours in lively conversation.