Page 10 of A Dangerous Vision

The housekeeper gave her a stern look, then nodded. “Go ahead, Sarah.”

“I heard him say he was going to have dinner with Mr. Callister,” the girl said, still keeping her voice low.

“Are you familiar with that name, Mrs. Coyle?” Gideon asked.

“Yes, sir. He visits quite frequently. He is a friend of Mr. Pennington and a member of Parliament, but he did not mention Mr. Callister when he spoke to me.”

Gideon tipped his head to catch the butler’s attention.

“As far as I knew, there was no dinner planned this evening with Mr. Callister,” Mr. Burton put in. “Dinner parties with guests here involved a more elaborate menu. Mr. Pennington would have planned such a thing ahead of time with Cook or Miss Faraday, so his plans must have been elsewhere.”

The valet shot an anxious glance at Gideon.

Gideon gestured for the young man to speak.

“Often, when he dines with Mr. Callister, he does so at the club where they are both members.”

“Yes,” Burton put in, nodding his agreement. “They also belonged to the same club, sir, and would often dine there.”

“Which club?”

“I believe it is called The Palladia Club in Marylebone.”

Gideon noticed that the lady’s maid, Miss Keane, couldn’t seem to sit still. She fussed with the button at the throat of her uniform, then tucked her hair behind her ear, all while shooting glances in the direction of Mrs. Coyle.

He couldn’t tell if it was simply unease at being questioned, or whether there was more going on between the staff than they’d willingly divulge while they were gathered with the housekeeper and butler, who were effectively their superiors.

Gideon got to his feet. “I’d like to begin individual interviews now, so that I may formally gather a statement from each of you.”

Mrs. Coyle arched a brow. Mr. Burton nodded as if in understanding.

“I’d like to begin with Miss McGuire.”

Both the housekeeper’s brows arched at that, and she took a breath as if she meant to protest, but then Mr. Burton stood from his chair. Mrs. Coyle followed suit, and before the housekeeper could utter another word, Burton guided the remaining servants from the room.

The young maid was all but trembling by the time Mr. Burton closed the dining room door behind him.

“I understand this evening has brought quite shocking news to all of you. And I perceive your disquiet, Miss McGuire,” Gideon said, trying for a gentle tone. “But I asked to speak with you first, as I suspect you have something to say that required privacy.”

She looked as if she was choking, swallowing multiple times against the lump in her throat before she said, “I was cleaning Miss Faraday’s grate this morning, and Mr. Pennington came in. They spoke about their plans for the evening. He told Miss Faraday that he would return to speak with her after dining with Mr. Callister, and he asked her to remain at home.”

“I see.” And yet, Gideon couldn’t help but note that Miss Faraday was away from home on the night her uncle was murdered. “Did she change her plans for this evening abruptly?”

“I can’t say, sir. I only know she departed in the late afternoon and has not returned.” She ducked her head before adding, “She’ll be in such distress when she hears what’s happened.”

“You have, no doubt, had occasion to observe the interactions between Miss Faraday and her uncle on many occasions, Miss McGuire. How would you characterize them?”

“They were quite…” Miss McGuire stared at her lap, at the polished wood floor, at the wall behind Gideon, and then finally looked at him again. “They were cordial on most occasions, sir.”

“And on other occasions?”

After one glance at the closed dining room door, as if needing to confirm it remained so, Miss McGuire leaned closer and whispered, “There were rows at times. Miss Faraday has a beau that Mr. Pennington does not approve of.”

“Did they argue this morning?”

“Not exactly, sir. But their exchange was curt, and several days ago, I—” Miss McGuire stopped herself, as if catching herself before saying something she thought she shouldn’t.

“Go on.”