Tinker the other evening.”
“Quite perceptive of you, Linton, I am here about that business. I need to ask you some questions about it in my capacity with the Home Office.”
The words “Home Office” made the younger man straighten a bit. “What the devil has the Home Office to do with old Tinker’s getting himself killed over gambling debts?”
“What makes you think his death had something to do with gambling?” Christian asked, ignoring the question about the Home Office. “Do you know of someone who’s been threatening him?”
The younger man shook his head, then winced at the movement. “No, but it stands to reason, don’t it? He was killed in a gaming hell. It must have had something to do with gaming.”
While Christian couldn’t fault the fellow’s logic, it didn’t necessarily work that way. Deciding not to dispute the matter, instead he said, “What made you run away that night?”
He wanted to berate Maddie’s brother for abandoning her, but he didn’t wish to spook him at this point. They could discuss his bad behavior regarding her after this business was settled.
Linton rubbed a bleary eye. “I know it was wrong of me. I knew it when I did it. But I had to get out of there. As soon as I saw that it was Tinker who’d been killed, I knew that I’d be the one who got blamed for it.”
“Why?” Christian asked. “Because you owed Tinker money?”
Linton’s bloodshot eyes opened wide. “How did you…?”
“It wasn’t hard to guess,” Christian said with an inward sigh. Was this man really capable of killing his friend? He doubted it. “You were in a gaming house, after all. And you were the only one there who fled the scene.”
“Not the only one,” Linton said, animating a bit. “Stands to reason that the one who did it also fled the scene.” It was hard to argue with the triumph in the man’s face. Especially when one considered just how hard his brain must have worked to arrive at the conclusion, no matter how false it might be.
“You know, of course, that fleeing the scene like that will make you the number one suspected culprit.”
If Linton were worried, he didn’t show it. “I did what I thought I had to do at the time.”
Though he’d been prepared for Viscount Linton’s pigheadedness—he was, after all, Maddie’s brother—Christian hadn’t quite guessed just how nonchalant he’d be over the possibility that he’d be found guilty of murder.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of this matter, Linton,” he said firmly. “You are indeed at the top of the suspect list. And I do not wish to frighten your family, but you should perhaps ask your father for some guidance in the matter. His influence or perhaps that of your uncle Lord Shelby might be necessary to see to it that you are protected.”
He already looked a bit ill, and now Linton’s complexion went even paler. “You’re serious?” he demanded. “How can this be happening? It was a silly gambling debt between us. That’s all. Tinker was my friend, for God’s sake.”
Christian didn’t bother pointing out that Tinker was the second of Linton’s friends to die in a mysterious manner. Nor that his presence here in the home of that first friend’s widow, having obviously spent the night in her bed, was damned suspicious, as well.
Probably because she’d been eavesdropping, Lady Emily herself stepped into the room and wrapped a comforting arm around Linton’s shoulders.
“Do not despair, Linton,” she soothed, all the while glaring at Christian. “No one with a jot of sense would ever think you killed Tinker.”
Seeing that he wouldn’t get much more sensible talk from the viscount, Christian rose.
“Thank you for speaking with me, Lord Linton,” he said. “If you can recall anything new about that night at Mrs. Bailey’s please don’t hesitate to contact me with it.”
Neither his hostess, nor her paramour, bid him good-bye. He was almost to the door when he
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