‘No. Not really. I knew of her. I met her once,’ she corrected him. She was sitting in the crimson chair, and she slowly lowered her head until he could not see her expression. It was unnecessary to ask if Mercy had liked her. It was there in the grief of her gestures.
‘I want to know what she was like,’ he went on quietly. ‘I need to find out who killed her and, if possible, why.’
She looked up. ‘But they are going to hang her husband. Do you really think he is innocent? Or is it your job to speak for the condemned,’ she answered herself, ‘so they can hang him and go home to sleep in peace?’
‘He is an unpleasant man, but that is not necessarily the same as being guilty,’ Daniel replied. ‘And if by some chance he is not guilty, then someone else is.’
Mercy straightened up and looked at him for a long time without speaking.
He waited her out.
‘She fought a lot of causes,’ she said quietly. ‘The world is changing very fast. Too fast for a lot of people, but not fast enough for others who have already caught the scent of change, and become intoxicated. Change does that to some. They fear the new. It seemed that Ebony was not afraid of anything. Not afraid enough to run away, poor creature. She wanted not only women to vote for Members of Parliament, but to be Members. She wanted education for girls. But academic, not just to speak foreign languages, and play the piano. She wanted them to read books, not just walk with a pile of them on their heads. And to practise the sciences. And she knew it would upset society. Equality always does, but I don’t think she realised how much. We talk splendidly about equality, but the reality of it appals us. We want change, but it must start tomorrow, not today, and above all, not here.’
Daniel smiled, not because it was either good or funny, but because it made him think well of Ebony. ‘She was a crusader,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ Mercy agreed. ‘But she made many people dream, too. And one man’s dream is another’s nightmare.’
‘Did her husband agree, or not?’
‘He was too busy writing his stories revealing the weaknesses of other people to care, I understand. He believed she would never achieve anything except a degree of unpopularity. At least that is what I think.’
‘And he did not mind that? It did not bother him?’ Then a new thought came to his mind. ‘If he exposed people in his biographies, did she discover any of the facts for him that he used?’
Mercy weighed her answer for so long, he thought she was going to refuse to respond. Then, at last, she spoke. ‘I suppose that is possible. She had opportunities, connections that he could never aspire to. And certainly she was both clever and observant. But I would prefer to think she did not repeat secrets to him. In fact, I choose to believe she despised gossip. Besides, for all I know, she was far too clever to soil her own reputation.’
‘Clever?’
‘Sometimes you are so very young.’ She sighed. ‘My dear, a secret exposed is a secret you can no longer use. It is an opportunity wasted, is it not?’
‘You mean Ebony blackmailed people?’
‘That is an ugly wo
rd. But I think she might have made suggestions to people that they help certain causes – in their own interest. I don’t know. As I said, I only met her once. But I have friends who knew her better than I did. Do you want me to make enquiries?’
Daniel was not sure. She had the air of not being in the least discreet, nor able to keep a secret, let alone be inclined to keep one. He looked at her bright dark eyes, and half-smile on her lips, and realised that it all very well might be an act. She had never actually told him anything that was secret, only things that were entertaining. He had thought he knew her well, but perhaps what she presented was a deliberate illusion.
‘Time is short,’ he replied. ‘Very short. Nineteen more days. Ebony was not only killed, but disfigured by fire, deliberately. I don’t want the case closed and her husband hanged, if he was not the man who did this to her.’
‘I will see if I can find information for you,’ Mercy replied. ‘Either about her – or him.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Now, tea?’ she offered. ‘I have the most excellent cake.’
Chapter Seven
Daniel went over all the evidence again, later in the afternoon, and had a brief supper with Kitteridge, who looked tired and disappointed. They sat in the darkest corner of a familiar public house and ate hot cottage pie with plenty of onions.
‘So, what have you got?’ Kitteridge asked miserably. ‘I read and reread the transcript and all my notes. I’m going to start to look up precedent tomorrow, but I don’t think I’ll find anything.’
‘Are you going to look up cases that were appealed and succeeded?’ Daniel asked. He wanted to encourage Kitteridge, but he also thought Kitteridge’s mission was pointless.
‘I don’t think it will help, but there’s nothing else,’ Kitteridge replied. ‘I wish to hell I’d never been given the case.’ He took another mouthful of the mashed potatoes.
‘If fford Croft didn’t put his best man on, Graves would have crucified him,’ Daniel pointed out. ‘For some reason we don’t know, he really wanted to get him off.’
Kitteridge looked up, almost as if he suspected Daniel of being sarcastic.