The Coffin Lane Murders Read Online Free Page B

Kitchen, most likely. Crime passionel , perhaps. Looked like a servant,' said Conan, pointing to the reticule Faro was opening which the woman had not relinquished in the attack.
    'It wasn't theft, that we can eliminate,' said Vince.
    Faro nodded. 'Which leaves us with the first question of why, if this wasn't a random attack merely for theft, and rape seems unlikely.' They would not know for sure but there had been no disturbance or dishevelment of the woman's clothing.
    'A jealous swain, tormented and angry,' suggested Conan.
    Faro shrugged. The woman's body and the lack of evidence of a struggle had not suggested an attack where the victim had exchanged angry words with her assailant but rather that she was taken by surprise.
    He opened the reticule, praying silently that it held some means of identification so that the search for her killer would not be impeded.
    'Ah,' he said triumphantly. Their guess that she was a servant girl was correct. He took out a letter, wet but still legible, a former employer's reference recommending Molly Blaith for her excellent qualities of honesty and industry. It was headed 'To whom it may concern', and such letters were always the most guarded possession of anyone in domestic service.
    'And there's more. Here!' He produced another letter with a stamp on it addressed to a solicitor's firm in Queen Street. Opening it gingerly, he said: 'This is all we need. The poor girl had been sent out to post this by her employer, a Miss Errington in Minto Street.'
    'Then we have something to go on,' sighed Vince.
    Faro frowned. 'We do indeed. But why should she have chosen to walk down Coffin Lane right past a postbox at the end of her road?'
    'The answer isn't too difficult. No doubt she had an assignation,' said Vince.
    'Of course,' said Conan, 'with the murderer. A crime of passion, I'm surer of it every moment. He stabs her, rushes off in a panic. Let's face it, if he had had time to think it out, then he wouldn't have left anything to reveal her identity.'
    Faro considered this possibility thoughtfully, staring at the sodden patch of snow-cleared ground where she had lain.
    'Perhaps and perhaps not,' said Vince. 'She might have met him earlier, he attacked her and she ran away from him - ran down here.'
    Faro put an end to speculations which merely confused the issue. 'I expect much will be revealed by a visit to Miss Amelia Errington.'
    He was dreading the encounter, expecting tears, vapours, fainting and the application of smelling salts.
    He felt his worst fears were to be confirmed when he encountered Dr Mills leaving the house.
    They had a slight acquaintance through Vince's practice and Dr Mills looked at him curiously after an affable greeting.
    'You are Miss Errington's physician?' said Faro.
    'Indeed, yes.'
    'Is she ill?'
    Dr Mills smiled. 'Not exactly ill, but in poor health generally. She has a heart condition - why do you ask?'
    'Because your attendance may be needed, sir. Her maid's body has just been found in Coffin Lane.'
    'Good Lord. Not Molly?'
    'Alas, yes.'
    Dr Mills gripped his bag firmly. 'Then I must go to her. An accident, I take it?'
    'She's dead, I'm afraid. Her body has been removed to the police mortuary.'
    The doctor stared at him in disbelief and repeated, 'The police?'
    'We have reason to believe she was murdered.'
    'Good Lord,' repeated Mills. 'This is dreadful - dreadful. Then I had better come with you. This is very bad news for Miss Errington.'
    'They were close?'
    'Indeed yes. Molly was more than a personal maid. She was also a companion.'
    Faro decided to take advantage of this fortuitous meeting with the doctor who probably knew more than most the workings of Miss Errington's household.
    He put a delaying hand on Mills' arm as they climbed the steps. 'Tell me, sir, can you think of any reason why Molly should have been murdered?'
    The doctor frowned. 'None at all.'
    'Was she a patient of yours? Doctors frequently have intimate information unknown to even the