“I will, m’m.” Gertie bobbed a curtsey and headed for the kitchen. She wasn’t sure how she felt about letting her babies perform onstage. True, it would be an experience for them, and it would be exciting to watch them up there with all the toffs watching them and clapping for them.
Gertie smiled as she imagined the cheers and applause as the twins took their bows at center stage. Yeah, what harm could it do? She’d talk to them just as soon as she got off work. Humming again, she shoved the kitchen door open and went inside.
Arriving at the address Mrs. Taylor had given her, Cecily stepped down from the carriage, wincing as melting snow seeped over the rims of her boots. The wind whipped at the scarf she had tied over her hat, and she was grateful for the fur collar on her heavy serge coat.
Samuel opened the gate for her, and she trod her way carefully up the narrow pathway, mindful of the slippery surface beneath her feet.
The porch was dry, and she stamped her feet to remove the worst of the snow from her boots. Meanwhile, Samuel lifted the door knocker and smacked it down.
At first no one answered, and he had to rap again, louder this time.
“It seems as if no one is home,” Cecily murmured. “We shall have to call another time.”
She was about to turn away when the door creaked open, and a young man with a drooping mustache and stubble on his chin looked at her with sleepy eyes.
He was wrapped in a blanket that covered a dressing gown and nightshirt, the robe bunched closed by a tattered cord. “Whatcha want?” he demanded, not even bothering to put a hand over his mouth when he yawned.
“Here,” Samuel said, stepping forward, “mind who you are talking to. This is Mrs. Baxter from the Pennyfoot Country Club and she’s here to ask you some questions about Jimmy Taylor.”
The young man’s eyes sharpened at once, and his voice lost its drowsy tone. “What about him?”
Cecily forced a smile. “Mr. Baker? May we come in? Just for a moment? It’s terribly cold out here.”
Basil Baker looked over his shoulder, then back at her, his eyes now wary. “The place is in a mess.”
“That’s all right. I don’t mind that at all. I’m sorry to disturb you, but this is rather important.”
Losing patience, Samuel put a foot on the threshold. “Where’s your manners, letting a lady stand out in the cold? Let her in, right now.”
“I already told the bobby everything I know,” Basil muttered, but nevertheless stood back to allow them to enter.
He hadn’t exaggerated the condition of the living room. Clothes and shoes littered the room, a half-eaten sandwich sat on a plate on the couch, and empty beer glasses lined the mantelpiece. No coals burned in the fireplace, and it didn’t feel much warmer inside the house than it had outside.
“I was sleeping,” Basil said, picking up the remains of the sandwich. “It’s my day off, and I like to sleep late.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Cecily felt a pang of guilt for disturbing the young man’s rest. “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.”
“I don’t know what I can tell that I didn’t tell the bobby,” Basil said, tilting his head at the couch as signal for them to sit.
Cecily lowered herself gingerly on the edge of it, while Samuel contented himself with leaning against the fireplace. “I understand you were good friends with Jimmy Taylor,” she said, doing her best to smile.
“Used to be, yeah.” Basil hunched his shoulders. “Until he stole my girl. We was enemies after that.” He coughed, and added quickly, “I wasn’t the one what threw that rock at him, though. I swear it. I’ll admit, I didn’t like the bloke. We had a big scrap over Gracie. It was Jimmy what started it, though. I only finished it. I never went near him after that.” He swiped his thumb in a cross on his chest, almost losing his blanket in the process. “I swear on the Bible I didn’t.”
He sounded sincere, and Cecily was inclined to believe him. “Do you remember where you were the day Jimmy died?”
“I was working, wasn’t I. In the paper factory in Wellercombe. Twelve hours a day, hauling bloody big bundles of paper into the warehouse.”
“It sounds like hard work.”
“Yeah, it is. I hate the job.” Basil dragged the slipping blanket closer over his shoulders. “I used to work on a farm, and I liked that a lot, but I can’t get jobs on a farm no more. That’s why I’m stuck doing factory work.”
“It must have made it difficult for you to spend time with Gracie,” Cecily said, digging her freezing hands deeper into her muff.
Basil gave her a sharp look. “What does that mean?”
“Oh, I was just wondering if that’s why Gracie chose Jimmy, because you didn’t have much time to spend with her.”
Basil’s brows drew together. “I don’t know why she went with him. He was a nasty-tempered, ill-mannered pig, and I don’t know what she saw in him.”
“I imagine you were furious when she left you for him.”
“Course I was. After the fight, though, I reckoned they deserved each other. I heard that he was slapping her around a bit, but she chose to stay with him. More fool her, that’s what I say. Never did have no brains, that girl.”
Cecily got up from the couch, wishing she could feel her toes. “I’d like to have a word with Gracie. Do you know where can I find her?”
“She lives where she works, over the toy shop in the High Street.” Basil yawned again. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to bed.”
“Thank you for your help.” Cecily nodded at Samuel, who was directing a stern glare at Basil. “Come, Samuel, we must leave this gentleman in peace.”
Samuel snorted rather rudely and hurried to open the door for her.
Pausing on the doorstep, Cecily looked back at Basil. “How well did you know Thomas Willow?”
Basil frowned. “The shoemaker? Everyone in the village knows who he is, but I wasn’t that friendly with him, if that’s what you mean. What about him?”
“He was found whipped to death up on Putney Downs,” Cecily said, keeping a close watch on Basil’s face.
At first Basil’s features seemed frozen in shock, then he looked scared. “I didn’t know.”
“Did Jimmy know him well?”
“Not that I know of. Jimmy couldn’t afford to get his shoes custom-made. He bought his where I bought mine, at the market. What does all this have to do with me?”
“Nothing, I hope. Just as a matter of interest, though, someone used Jimmy Taylor’s whip to kill Thomas Willow.”
Basil’s jaw dropped open. “Blinking heck. Who would be crazy enough to do something like that?”
Thoroughly chilled now, Cecily bid him good day. Climbing up into the carriage, she wished she’d brought a blanket herself as she sat down on the cold leather seat.
Frost had settled on the windows, painting a silvery pattern as they made their way to the High Street. All along the curb horses stamped impatiently, steam rising from their nostrils while they waited for their owners to return.
Samuel found a spot around the corner from the toy shop, and it was a short walk back for Cecily. Shop owners had cleared the pavements of snow, and it was quite a pleasure to tread on firm ground instead of slippery ice.
Customers filled the little shop, but it was blissfully warm inside, thanks to the large stove in the corner. Samuel made his way to the counter to ask about Gracie Petersen while Cecily paused by the stove, waiting for the blood to return to her extremities.
Glancing around, her gaze fell upon a display of Christmas cards. It wasn’t the colorful pictures of decorated trees, snow scenes, and Father Christmas that caught her eye, however. It was a large box filled to the brim with shiny gold stamps.
Just at that moment a young lady approached her, asking, “May I be of help?”
Cecily gave her a quick smile. “I was just looking at these gold stamps.” She picked up a sheet of them and studied it. “Angels, I believe.”