He nodded. “Good idea. Perhaps a feminine touch is needed. I’ll be along directly.”
While William continued his cursory examination, Fanny approached the small knot of bystanders. She went toward a red-haired woman, probably in her mid-twenties, who was loudly crying as she stood next to a woman of the same age, undoubtedly a friend, if their clasped hands were any indication.
“Hello. I’m Miss Bancroft, assisting with this investigation,” Fanny said by way of greeting. “Did you know the woman who was killed?”
“Yes.” Another wail followed. “Or at least I knew of her.”
Fanny wrote the information into her notebook. “Who is she?”
“Miss Anderson. Her father is a merchant dealing in fabrics. I met her when she accompanied him to my modiste’s shop to deliver the most gorgeous bolts of silk.” She scrubbed at the tears on her cheeks. “We became friends and I saw her at a few events around Town.” Another crying jag ensued. “Her father wanted her to marry well, you see. He is loaded but wished for her to have a title.”
“Ah, thank you.” She wrote all of that down to tell William later. “What is your name?”
“Miss Newton. Lord Pursely is my father.”
The name nor the title meant nothing to Fanny, but she wrote it down. “Do you see that man over there? He’s Inspector Storme and in charge of this investigation. I’m going to have him talk to you and your friend.”
For she was rapidly becoming overwhelmed at the enormity of the task at hand. How did William keep all the facts straight in his head? Even she, with her notebook, couldn’t organize her thoughts into some semblance of sense.
The other woman, a tall, willowy blonde, nodded so vigorously a tress of hair slipped its pins and bounced about her shoulder. “I’m Miss Vernon. Viscount Carrolton is my father. Miss Newton is my best friend.” Tears fell to her cheeks and soon the two women were joint watering pots.
“But why are you here at all this time of the morning?” Fanny blurted out the question, for now that she’d immersed herself in the investigation, she felt more confident.
Miss Newton answered the question. “We were on our way to the shops on Brook Street when I saw… her,” she gestured toward the body, “out the window, and I knew…” A wealth of tears interrupted the rest of the sentence.
“All right. Calm yourselves while I bring the inspector around.” It was a puzzling case indeed, and she couldn’t wait to see William further in action.