An Appetite for Murder Read Online Free Page A

is such a grief to me. From the moment I was accused of that terrible crime, I have seen nothing of my wife and nothing of my children. Benjamin and Mary might be married by now – I might even be a grandfather! What a joy it would be to know that they are well and happy!’
    ‘How do you make your living now, Mr Sweetman?’ asked Frances with a stern edge to her voice.
    He wiped his eyes, gave a wry smile and nodded. ‘Ah, I understand you. You are wondering if I want to find my family so that I can demand money from them, or live off them like a leech. No, I will make no demands; they have suffered so much that even though it is no fault of mine I do not think I have any claim on them. But just to see them, to know that they are in health and provided for, even if I cannot speak to them or make myself known, that will be sufficient. I work for my nephew Edward, my sister’s boy, as a clerk and general factotum. He is now a dental surgeon, and very successful. He believes in my innocence. He even thought to offer me lodgings in his home, but his wife – she has daughters by a previous marriage and not knowing me, she was nervous to have me in the house. I live simply, I need very little, and yes, with his assistance I can pay your fee.’
    Sarah had stopped knitting and was staring at Frances very keenly. She was strongly aware of how much Frances wanted to find her own mother, whom she had not seen since she was three years old, and yet at the same time feared to find her, feared so much that she had not dared to look. Sometimes Frances felt certain that her mother wanted to see her, but that she too was afraid of a meeting. Perhaps her mother had read about her achievements in the newspapers, especially the Bayswater Chronicle , which represented the intrepid lady detective as a towering champion of justice, or even in the halfpenny illustrated stories that were in wide circulation about the exploits of the daring ‘Miss Dauntless’, who, it could not be doubted, was intended to represent Frances. It would surely warm her mother’s heart to know that Frances was well and a success, but it might also deter her from confronting a daughter who she might believe would not want to know her. Frances often liked to imagine that ladies who passed her in the street with a polite greeting and a smile were her own parent. If that was the case, she must have a hundred of them.
    ‘I expect you have already tried to find your family,’ said Frances.
    ‘Oh, since I came out of prison last month I have thought of little else,’ said her client with some feeling. ‘I have spoken to everyone who might know where they are, but have learned nothing.’
    ‘Can you describe to me what you have done so far, and also let me have details of all Mrs Sweetman’s relatives and friends? I will need names and any addresses you can remember.’ Frances poised a freshly sharpened pencil over her notebook.
    ‘Of course, I will tell you everything I know. Unfortunately, Susan has no brothers or sisters living, and her parents were deceased long ago. My own dear sister died while I was in prison and left no message for me to suggest that she knew what had become of Susan and my children. My nephew, likewise, knows nothing. He was away at school when the catastrophe occurred. I went to our old home in Garway Road, but Susan was not there and the neighbours, all of whom were unknown to me as they had lived there under ten years, could tell me nothing. I have no way of finding our maid, Betty – I never even knew her surname. I went to the school that my children attended, but the building was gone – all knocked down and a furniture warehouse where it once stood, and I was told that the headmistress had retired to the country many years ago. I placed an advertisement in the newspaper but there was no reply. I thought then to go to the offices of J. Finn Insurance, as Susan did very occasionally come there when she had a message for me. The