“I agree,” Charlotte said instantly, sitting down opposite her and wishing the tea would brew more quickly.

“Toast?” Gracie offered.

“Not yet.” Charlotte shook her head very slightly. It still throbbed. “I was also thinking about it half the night, but I still don’t know what there is we can do. Mr. Pitt told me that Commander Cornwallis said it was for his own safety, as well as to keep him in a job of some sort. The people he’s upset would be happy to see him with nothing, and where they can reach him.” She did not want to put it into words, but she needed to explain. “They might have meant him to have an accident in the street, or something like that…”

Gracie was not shocked; perhaps she had seen too much death when she was growing up in the East End. There was nothing about poverty she had not known, even if some of it was receding into memory now. But she was angry, her thin, little face hardened and her lips drawn into a tight line.

“All because ’e done ’is job right an’ got that Adinett ’anged? Wot der they want ’im ter do? Pretend like it in’t wrong ’e murdered Mr. Fetters? Or just act daft like ’e never realized wot ’appened?”

“Yes. I think that’s exactly what they wanted,” Charlotte answered. “And I think not every doctor would have seen anything wrong. It was just their bad luck that Ibbs was quick enough to realize there was something odd, and it was Thomas he called.”

“ ’Oo is this Adinett, anyway?” Gracie screwed up her brows. “An’ why does anyone want ’im ter get away wi’ murderin’ Mr. Fetters?”

“He’s a member of the Inner Circle,” Charlotte said with a shiver. “Isn’t the tea ready yet?”

Gracie looked at her shrewdly, probably guessing how she felt, and poured it anyway. It was a little weak but the fragrance of it was easing, even while it was still too hot to drink.

“Does that mean they can get away wi’ murder, an’ nuffink is supposed ter ’appen to ’em?” Gracie was clenched up with anger.

“Yes, unless perhaps someone either brave or reckless gets in the way. Then they get rid of him too.” Charlotte tried to sip the tea, but knew she would burn herself, and more milk would spoil it.

“So wot are we goin’ ter do?” Gracie stared at her with wide, unflinching eyes. “We gotter prove ’e were right. We dunno ’oo’s in this circle, but we know there’s more o’ us than there is o’ them.” It was not a possibility to her that Pitt could have been mistaken. It was not even worth denying it.

Charlotte smiled in spite of the way she felt. Gracie’s loyalty was more of a restorative than the tea. She could not let her down by being less brave or less positive. She said the first thing that came into her mind, so as not to leave silence.

“The thing that made this trial so different was that no one knew of any reason why Adinett should do it. The two men had been friends for years, and no one knew anything of a quarrel, that day or any other time. Some people couldn’t believe he had any reason, and all the evidence was about things, not feelings. They were a lot, when added together, but each one by itself didn’t seem much.” She sipped the tea. “And some of the witnesses retreated a bit when it came to swearing in court and sticking to their stories in spite of the defense lawyer’s cross-questioning them and trying to make them look foolish.”

“So we gotta find out w’y ’e done it,” Gracie said simply. “ ’E must ’ave ’ad a reason. ’E wouldn’t ’a done it fer nuffink.”

Charlotte was already beginning to think. Very little had come out in the newspapers about either man, except their general worthiness, their social standing and the incomprehensibility of the whole affair. If the evidence was right, and she did not question it, then there must be a great deal more to know, including something so monstrous and so ugly it had led to the murder of one of them and the sentence to death of the other. And yet it had remained totally hidden.

“Why would a man who is going to be hanged not tell anyone, in his own defense, the reason he killed a friend?” she said aloud.

“ ’Cos it don’t excuse ’im none,” Gracie answered. “If it did, ’e’d a’ said.”

Charlotte followed her train of thought, sipping at the tea again. “Why do people kill friends, people they know but aren’t related to, can’t inherit money from, or aren’t in love with?”

“Yer lash out ’cos yer ’ate someone or yer scared of ’em,” Gracie said reasonably. “Or they got suffink yer want an’ they won’t give it yer. Or yer crazy jealous.”

“They didn’t hate each other,” Charlotte answered, reaching for the bread and the knife. “They had been friends for years, and no one knows of a quarrel.”

“A woman?” Gracie suggested. “Mebbe Fetters caught ’im doin’ suffink wi’ Mrs. Fetters?”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Charlotte said thoughtfully, taking butter and marmalade. “He wouldn’t put that up as a defense because it isn’t. People would only think worse of him for it. Except he could say it wasn’t true, Fetters just imagined it, and accused him, wouldn’t listen to reason and attacked him.” She took a deep breath, and a bite of the bread, realizing she was hungry. “Except he’d hardly do it from on top of the library ladder, would he? I wouldn’t believe that if I were a juror.”

“Yer wouldn’t be a juror,” Gracie pointed out. “Ye’re a woman. An’ yer’ve gotta ’ave yer own ’ouse an’ yer own money.”

Charlotte did not bother to answer. “What about money?”

Gracie shook her head. “I can’t fink o’ nuffink as I’d ’ave a quarrel about from the top o’ a set o’ steps, ’specially ones wot’s got w’eels on!”

“Actually, neither can I,” Charlotte agreed. “Which means that whatever it was about, Adinett took a lot of trouble to conceal it and pretend he wasn’t involved. So it was something he was ashamed of.” They were back to the beginning.

“We gotta find out more,” Gracie said. “An’ yer should ’ave a proper breakfast. D’yer want summink ’ot? I can make an egg on toast, if yer like?”

“No, this is enough, thank you,” Charlotte declined. Maybe from now on they should not be so extravagant as to eat eggs except for the main meal. They were not working men, only women and children.

Gracie was used to the practicalities of poverty and she accepted the answer without argument.

“I think I’ll go and see Mrs. Fetters,” Charlotte said at last, when she had finished a third slice. “Thomas said she was very agreeable and believed absolutely that Adinett was guilty. She must want to know why her husband died almost as much as we do. I would!”

“That’s a good idea.” Gracie started to clear away the dishes and put the butter and marmalade back in the pantry. “She’s gotta know suffink about Adinett, and lots about ’er ’usband, poor soul. I reckon as mournin’ must be awful. If I’d jus’ lost someone as I loved, I’d ’ate ter sit around by meself in an ’ouse all muffled up, winders dark, mirrers covered an’ clocks stopped, like I was dead meself! Wearin’ black’d be bad enough. I wore black fer me granddad’s burial, an’ ’ad ter slap meself silly ter get a bit o’ color in me face, or I’d a bin scared they’d a put me in the ’ole, not ’im.”

Charlotte smiled in spite of herself. She stood up and poured a little milk into a saucer for Archie and Angus, then scraped the remainder of last night’s shepherd’s pie into their dish, and they descended on it, purring in anticipation and winding around her ankles.

After she had made sure that Gracie had everything she needed for the day, she went upstairs again. Actually, Gracie had seemed unusually settled about her chores, almost as if she had already sorted them in her mind and was uninterested in them. But they were the last thing on Charlotte ’s mind, too, so it hardly mattered.

She changed her clothes, having selected very carefully from her wardrobe a well-fitting dress of a soft, deep aqua shade. It was very flattering-the reason she had chosen it-but also discreet. She had selected it so it would last several seasons, but that meant it was also not unsuitable for visiting someone in mourning. Prints or yellow would have been insensitive.