Blind Justice by Bruce Alexander Page B

what I had seen, or not seen, from the outside of the house. He seemed still a bit disturbed by what he had learned from Mr. Donnelly.
    As I had approached him in the hall, he had been occupied in animated conversation with the surgeon. They were discussing details pertaining to the transport of Lord Goodhope’s corpus. Mr. Donnelly was assuring Sir John that he need not concern himself with the details of the removal: The surgeon would attend to them himself.
    “You alone, sir?” Sir John had asked.
    “I and members of the household staff,” replied the other. “A simple coffin arrived this morning. A dray wagon will be made available.”
    “Then, you have got what you wanted, and I congratulate you, though I confess I am surprised.”
    “She was very gracious.”
    “And you, evidently, very persuasive.” He had then cocked his head in my direction. “Jeremy? Was that you who just arrived?”
    “Yes, Sir John.”
    “Then let’s be off to Bow Street.”
    Thus it was that we began our short journey in silence. Had not the black ribbon covering his eyes and the tricorn hat he wore virtually obscured his brow, I would have been sure he was frowning. As it was, I could only guess that to be so.
    We were many streets beyond St. James when he spoke at last: “So, Jeremy, tell me, did you discover anything from the garden?”
    “I’m not sure. Sir John,” said I in all truth.
    “Not sure? Come, boy, you’ve a keen eye. You’ve proved that already.”
    “But I saw nothing to make me certain.”
    “At this point,” said Sir John, “you need not be certain, you need only be suspicious. Now what, exactly, has made you suspicious?”
    “The chimney,” said I. “It’s an odd shape.”
    “The chimney? Hmm, well, that’s a possibility, isn’t it? As I recall, from your own and Mr. Bailey’s careful description of the room last night, the fireplace it serves lies just behind the desk where Lord Goodhope was found. Is that correct?”
    “Yes sir, correct.”
    “How did it look from outside the house? Built out to surprising depth? A bit too capacious?”
    “Not exactly. It was built out, yes, but to both sides. It was shaped in such a way that it spread out under the two windows.”
    “Interesting. That should bear further investigation tomorrow.” I thought that might be all he had to say, but then he roused himself and asked about the garden.
    “Oh, quite beautiful, sir.”
    “Come now, Jeremy, you can do better than that. Describe it to me.”
    He was quite right to object, of course. I had done no better with it than Mr. Bailey had the night before when asked to describe the house. And so I thought for a moment, bringing a picture of the garden to mind, then simply telling him what I saw.
    “It is,” I told him, “about half the size of the house in depth, though wider on both sides, of course, which are bounded by wood fences.”
    He nodded at that but indicated with a gesture of his hand that I was to go on.
    “Flowers and small trees are planted on either side of a path that leads down the middle. There are two benches.”
    “The path leads where?”
    “To a gate in a privet hedge. The hedge is about six feet tall.”
    “And beyond the gate?”
    “A mews. Potter seemed a bit reluctant to open the gate, or perhaps that was only because he hadn’t the key with him. I made him fetch it.”
    “You did, did you?” Sir John laughed heartily at that. “It must have put him in a black mood, eh?”
    Remembering how Potter’s keen wish to deny me was written plainly on his face, I, too, joined in the laughter. “It did, it truly did!” I cried.
    “Good boy. But tell me, what sort of mews was it?”
    “Well, it went the length of the street and was probably wide enough for a wagon and horses, though perhaps not. Potter said that dust and garbages of all sorts are collected there. It is a dirt way and has a bad smell.”
    “There are no smaller structures behind the house?”
    “None, sir,