Free Death in the Dark Walk by Deryn Lake Page B

matter.’
    â€˜Is she dead?’ Hannah said hoarsely, clearly shocked and astonished.
    John nodded. ‘I fear so.’
    â€˜How did such a thing happen?’
    The Apothecary weighed up his answer and decided to tell the truth, knowing that sooner or later the old wretch would learn it for herself. ‘She suffered a violent end at the hands of a murderer whilst visiting Vaux Hall Pleasure Gardens. I know because I happened to be there that very night. Acting as her physician, of course, I knew something of her background and it struck me that there might be several who wished her harm. Would you agree with that?’
    The woman snatched a bottle of gin from her pocket and had a swig, offering John the same after wiping the neck with a greasy hand. He took a cautious mouthful as a sign of goodwill.
    â€˜Aye, there’s a few who might at that,’ she said, nodding agreement.
    â€˜Ah!’ John answered meaningfully.
    â€˜You knew her well then? I’ve never seen you round here?’
    â€˜I mostly called in the evenings, merely to prescribe, of course.’
    Hannah let out a wheezy laugh. ‘Oh yes, of course! Well, in that case you’ll know there’s been quite a bit going on of late.’
    John shrugged slightly. ‘Well, yes and no. I didn’t see her that often. Tell me.’
    Hannah paused, glancing over her shoulder just as if she, too, thought Elizabeth’s ghost might be walking. ‘Like Lizzie being a kept plaything and these lodgings and all that’s in ’em paid for by a gentleman of quality.’
    â€˜But why should that make her so disliked? It’s an every day occurrence. Or was another woman in love with him?’
    Hannah bellowed a laugh and drank deeply. ‘I don’t know about in love but there was certainly another woman. The gentleman in question is married.’
    â€˜Well, well,’ said John, intensely interested. ‘So who is this naughty fellow?’
    â€˜A Frenchman, one of the Huguenot immigrants living here in London. But well to do. He’s Count Louis de Vignolles – or that’s what Lizzie called him. But, like I said, there’s been something strange happening recently.’
    â€˜What’s that?’
    â€˜I reckon she’d got someone else as well as him.’
    â€˜What makes you think so?’
    â€˜She hasn’t been home for over two weeks and the Count . . . Well, he’s been here looking for her. He used to visit her when he could, but Lizzie still had plenty of spare hours on her hands, hours in which to go out searching for someone younger and richer.’
    â€˜I see,’ said John – and did. For it was obvious that the wayward girl had come across the Duke of Midhurst during her idle moments when the Frenchman was, of necessity, spending time with his wife, and had thought him more worthy of her embraces.
    â€˜I reckon the Frenchie killed her,’ Hannah went on. ‘He was jealous as a viper. Foreign, you see.’
    â€˜What about his wife? Did she know about Elizabeth?’ John asked, almost to himself.
    Hannah shook her head and sucked her teeth reflectively. ‘I’m not sure. She could have done. Though it’s said that wives are often the last to discover such things. Anyway, Lizzie didn’t confide in me. She talked more about her past than anything else.’
    â€˜Is it true she was a country girl?’
    â€˜Oh yes. Came from Midhurst in Sussex, or so she said. She travelled to London looking for work and ended up in a whorehouse.’
    â€˜A common enough event.’
    â€˜Aye. You can see the procurers hanging round the inns where the stage coaches end their journeys, luring the girls with tempting offers of employment. Little do the poor innocents know what they are letting themselves in for.’
    John stood up, refusing the bottle of gin and getting a coin from his pocket. ‘You’ve been most helpful,