sooner you didn’t.”
“Very well.” She gestured to the next door and said, “My friend has been murdered—”
The man leaned out to look, his eyes wide. “Angus? Angus, you say? He’s been murdered?”
“I’m afraid he has.”
The man’s jaw dropped, and his lower lip wobbled a little in shock. “Well, that’s a terrible shame, it is. Poor Angus. I liked him, I did. Him and his pipes. Devilish loud music, but it livened up the place on occasion. ’Sblood, I’ll be missing him!” He kept glancing toward Angus’s room, appearing to want to go look, but without the courage to do so.
“Were you here when it happened? Sometime this morning?”
His attention returned to Suzanne. “I’ve been here all day. Sleeping, mostly.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“I certainly did not. And I hope if I’d a-heered a murder I would have raised an alarm! I was sleeping, but I ain’t a heavy sleeper and I surely would have gone to help Angus had I known he was being killed!”
“Did you know he had a visitor?”
“Angus hardly ever had visitors. These rooms here is for sleeping and sometimes eating, and hardly for having company in. Angus never brought his tarts here, neither, so far as I noticed.”
“Would you have heard if someone had come this morning?”
“As I said, I was sleeping. Were I awake, I surely would have heard. It ain’t like these walls was brick.” He knocked on the wall next to his door to demonstrate how thin they were. “But asleep I can’t say what I would o’ heered.”
That was a disappointment. Had he heard a name or recognized a voice, she might have been able to ascertain what friend or enemy of Angus’s had come to visit. She asked, “Do you know of any visitors he’s had recently?”
The man shrugged. “How recently?”
Suzanne had no idea what she meant by that, not knowing what time frame might pertain. But she said, “Oh, I think perhaps the past month or so.”
“Oh, then. You see, there’s this one fellow I saw once a while back. But it might be too long ago to be the one you’re looking for. Very fancy, I say. A nobleman, even. The wealthiest I’ve ever seen in this building, at least.”
“You didn’t know who he was?”
The man shook his head. “No. But he certainly was a fancy one. All jewels and gold and such. He fair glittered when he passed the window over there and got all caught up in sunshine.” He pointed with his chin to the stairwell window at the back.
“Did you have a close look at him?”
“Not really, no. I minds my own business, I does. Mostly. He followed me up the stairs one day, then passed me once I’d reached my door and he went to Angus’s. ’Twas a mite creepy to be followed up three flights of stairs. That sort should keep to their own, I think, and not bother us commons.”
“Did Angus say the man’s name when he saw his visitor?”
“Poor Angus wasn’t home that day.” He looked over at the next door again and added, “Unlucky for him he was home today, eh?”
Suzanne nodded agreement. Also unlucky for her Angus’s neighbor never heard the name of the fancy-dressed visitor. “Thank you, good man, for answering my questions.”
“Right.” He looked over at Angus’s door as Suzanne moved off to the next door in the other direction, where she knocked and received an immediate answer from a woman standing just inside.
“Good morning to you, good woman,” said Suzanne. The neighbor she’d just spoken to stepped from his room and approached Angus’s door with some hesitation.
The woman said to Suzanne, “I heard you talking to Norman, there. You say Angus is dead?”
“I’m afraid he is.”
Tears leapt to the woman’s eyes. “Oh, poor Angus! Poor, poor Angus!” With that she burst from her doorway, shoved Suzanne out of her way, and scuffled down the hall toward Angus’s closed door. Norman was already there, cracking the door for a small peek, as if he were afraid he might catch Angus at
“Very well.” She gestured to the next door and said, “My friend has been murdered—”
The man leaned out to look, his eyes wide. “Angus? Angus, you say? He’s been murdered?”
“I’m afraid he has.”
The man’s jaw dropped, and his lower lip wobbled a little in shock. “Well, that’s a terrible shame, it is. Poor Angus. I liked him, I did. Him and his pipes. Devilish loud music, but it livened up the place on occasion. ’Sblood, I’ll be missing him!” He kept glancing toward Angus’s room, appearing to want to go look, but without the courage to do so.
“Were you here when it happened? Sometime this morning?”
His attention returned to Suzanne. “I’ve been here all day. Sleeping, mostly.”
“Did you hear anything?”
“I certainly did not. And I hope if I’d a-heered a murder I would have raised an alarm! I was sleeping, but I ain’t a heavy sleeper and I surely would have gone to help Angus had I known he was being killed!”
“Did you know he had a visitor?”
“Angus hardly ever had visitors. These rooms here is for sleeping and sometimes eating, and hardly for having company in. Angus never brought his tarts here, neither, so far as I noticed.”
“Would you have heard if someone had come this morning?”
“As I said, I was sleeping. Were I awake, I surely would have heard. It ain’t like these walls was brick.” He knocked on the wall next to his door to demonstrate how thin they were. “But asleep I can’t say what I would o’ heered.”
That was a disappointment. Had he heard a name or recognized a voice, she might have been able to ascertain what friend or enemy of Angus’s had come to visit. She asked, “Do you know of any visitors he’s had recently?”
The man shrugged. “How recently?”
Suzanne had no idea what she meant by that, not knowing what time frame might pertain. But she said, “Oh, I think perhaps the past month or so.”
“Oh, then. You see, there’s this one fellow I saw once a while back. But it might be too long ago to be the one you’re looking for. Very fancy, I say. A nobleman, even. The wealthiest I’ve ever seen in this building, at least.”
“You didn’t know who he was?”
The man shook his head. “No. But he certainly was a fancy one. All jewels and gold and such. He fair glittered when he passed the window over there and got all caught up in sunshine.” He pointed with his chin to the stairwell window at the back.
“Did you have a close look at him?”
“Not really, no. I minds my own business, I does. Mostly. He followed me up the stairs one day, then passed me once I’d reached my door and he went to Angus’s. ’Twas a mite creepy to be followed up three flights of stairs. That sort should keep to their own, I think, and not bother us commons.”
“Did Angus say the man’s name when he saw his visitor?”
“Poor Angus wasn’t home that day.” He looked over at the next door again and added, “Unlucky for him he was home today, eh?”
Suzanne nodded agreement. Also unlucky for her Angus’s neighbor never heard the name of the fancy-dressed visitor. “Thank you, good man, for answering my questions.”
“Right.” He looked over at Angus’s door as Suzanne moved off to the next door in the other direction, where she knocked and received an immediate answer from a woman standing just inside.
“Good morning to you, good woman,” said Suzanne. The neighbor she’d just spoken to stepped from his room and approached Angus’s door with some hesitation.
The woman said to Suzanne, “I heard you talking to Norman, there. You say Angus is dead?”
“I’m afraid he is.”
Tears leapt to the woman’s eyes. “Oh, poor Angus! Poor, poor Angus!” With that she burst from her doorway, shoved Suzanne out of her way, and scuffled down the hall toward Angus’s closed door. Norman was already there, cracking the door for a small peek, as if he were afraid he might catch Angus at
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