Free The Thief-Taker : Memoirs of a Bow Street Runner by T.F. Banks

will likely speak to the jarvey again. Visit this flash house in Bell Lane. Talk to anyone who might have seen Mr. Glendinning the day of his death. Try to discover all of his movements and activities that day, and indeed for several days before. I will want to know more of this duel….” A lamp guttered, and Morton reached out to adjust the wick.
    “Mr. Morton?” she asked quietly. “Members of my family, and of Halbert's, are concerned for my… well-being. They feel the whole matter should be forgotten as quickly as possible. Were I known to be doing this, therewould be a very strong effort to dissuade me. If you could keep the identity of your commissioner hidden during your enquiries, I would be greatly obliged.”
    “Yes, certainly. But I'll need to speak to you and pose some questions.”
    “Indeed, I will want to answer them, when an opportunity presents itself. But let me send my maidservant Nan to you tomorrow; she can provide you with almost anything I could myself. She is closer than a sister to me.”
    Morton nodded his agreement. But there was one more question that he wanted answered before he began, and he wanted the answer from no one else.
    “Are you acquainted with Colonel Rokeby, Miss Hamilton?”
    He thought she blushed, though through the veil he could not be sure.
    “I understand,” she said, “how the Colonel must be your first concern. The duel makes that necessary.”
    “Runners from Bow Street interrupted that contest,” noted Morton, “after a warning delivered by a lady's maidservant.”
    She nodded. “Yes, I sent Nan.”
    “And how did you learn of the duel? From Mr. Glendinning?”
    “No, in fact, I found out quite by chance. A servant said something. I could not quite believe it. Halbert despised such things. But it was true. Nan confirmed it through the manservant of my half-brother.”
    Morton nodded. She had nimbly dodged his original question. “Colonel Rokeby and yourself, Miss Hamilton?”
    She sat for a long moment, looking past him. Then she turned her head again.
    “To come here at all, I suppose I must trust you, Mr. Morton.” She met his eye in her oblique way, then dropped her gaze and began speaking in a low, expressionless voice. “In an earlier period of my life, under the pressure of…events, I did some very foolish things, Mr. Morton. I was… acquainted with the Colonel, briefly. But I soon broke off any connection between us.”
    Morton thought Arabella would likely be proved right again—which she would no doubt be delighted to hear.
    “How did he accept this rejection?”
    She shook her head. “I really have no notion. Until this duel, I had not thought of or spoken to the Colonel in many months.”
    “And your acquaintance with Mr. Glendinning began when?”
    She stared blankly.
    “Miss Hamilton, you can see the relevance, surely. Was Colonel Rokeby angry enough, or jealous enough, to have wanted to revenge himself upon your fiancé? How long ago did your relations with the Colonel come to an end?”
    “A year—eighteen months ago. Halbert began to call not long after.” She looked up at him. “Is there more, Mr. Morton? I must return to my home.”
    Morton hesitated.
    “Can you not simply proceed?” she almost pleaded. “Need I say more about events I am loath to admit even to myself?”
    Morton felt the propriety of pressing her no further, at least for now. If he had no solicitude for her feelings, he ought to have for his four hundred pounds. He bowed silently.
    “I will send Nan to you tomorrow, with a draught onmy bankers.” She rose and stepped toward the door, but then turned. “Mr. Morton? Did I bring this upon poor Halbert? Did my treatment of Colonel Rokeby cause…?” She could not bring herself to say it.
    “Even if it were Rokeby, Miss Hamilton, the blame is not yours. Rokeby's actions are his own to account for. No one else's.”
    She nodded once, seemed to waver where she stood, then held out her gloved hand, which