Free A Death Along the River Fleet by Susanna Calkins

may not ascend again. I have seen such despondency precede the most wicked act, that of self-murder.”
    Lucy shuddered. The Church did not look kindly on those who took their own lives, refusing to bury them in sacred ground. She did not wish such a sorry fate to befall the woman in her charge. “I will be mindful, sir,” she said. “You may depend on that.”
    *   *   *
    At around eleven o’clock, the constable returned to the house. Lucy heard him at the door when she was ladling some stew into a bowl for the woman. Stepping into the corridor, she saw him disappear into the physician’s study, a grim look on his face. A short while later he opened the door. He did not seem surprised to find her loitering in the hallway.
    â€œI thought you might be out here,” he said, beckoning her to join Dr. Larimer and himself inside.
    â€œWhat is it?” Lucy asked. “Have you heard from her family?” She looked at Dr. Larimer. “Sir?”
    The physician frowned. “In a manner of speaking.”
    â€œI do not understand, sir.” Something about his demeanor seemed unnatural. “Are they coming to fetch Miss Belasysse? Or were you unable to locate them?”
    Constable Duncan coughed. “I was able to send a message from the physician to the Belasysse family. The reply came this morning.”
    Dr. Larimer held up a note. “These circumstances are dashed odd. I trust, Lucy, that you will be discreet about what we are about to tell you.”
    At Lucy’s nod, he opened the note. “Dear Dr. Larimer,” he read out loud. “I must say, we are quite puzzled by your note. My dear daughter Octavia entered the embrace of the Lord some Ten Months ago.”
    â€œWhat? She is dead?” Lucy exclaimed. “They are saying Miss Belasysse is dead?”
    With a frown, Dr. Larimer continued to read. “She is buried in St. Paul’s Churchyard. Or at least her poor body was interred there, before the Fire overcame us all. God rest her soul. Yours, Lady Belasysse.”
    Lucy stepped back. A momentary remembrance of how the woman had emerged like a specter from the ruins flashed into her mind. “Oh!” she said.
    â€œI see you have grown pale, Lucy,” Dr. Larimer said, chuckling. “I hope you do not believe that the woman lying in the room upstairs is anything but flesh and blood?”
    Seeing that everyone was regarding her with an amused air, Lucy giggled, too, though she was a bit embarrassed by how transparent her absurd thought had been to the others. “No, sir. I know now that she is no specter, but very much of this earth.” She paused. “Does that mean, sir, that Mr. Sheridan was mistaken when he identified her?”
    â€œ That is a far more plausible resolution to this quandary, I would presume,” the physician replied. “Besides, it is not the first time that my assistant has blundered, although never before in such an issue as this.” Though his last words were spoken in jest, there was a thoughtful look in Dr. Larimer’s eye. Like Lucy, he had seen the start of recognition when his assistant had first seen the woman, as well as his protective manner around her later.
    The constable sighed. “Well, if she is not Miss Belasysse, we will have to find a different way to determine this woman’s identity. And for now, I am stumped. All we know about her—her fancy amulet, her undergarments, her manners—none of that is enough to identify her, as far as I am concerned. It seems cruel to have a member of the Belasysse family travel here to verify the woman is not Miss Belasysse, but that is what we may need to do.”
    â€œWhat about the servants who maintain the London home?” Lucy asked. “Could one of them identify her?”
    â€œNo,” Dr. Larimer said, wagging his finger at them. “We owe it to the Belasysse family to keep this scandal suppressed,