Page 3 of Corpse in the Canal

“Have you ever come across him?”

He shook his head. “I don’t really move in his circles.”

Solomon could move in any circles he chose. He was wealthy enough, successful enough, and with plenty of powerful connections. But his trust, like his affections, was difficult to win, and he had never been interested in what were regarded as the pleasures of Society.

At one time, she had wondered if he kept to himself through fear of rejection—after all, Society could be cruel to anyone who was, or looked, different. Solomon, born in Jamaica of mixed blood, was indeed different—because of his quiet compassion, his practical benevolence, his keen observation, and the clever mind that had made and kept expanding his fortune.

“Harvey said his son spends much of his allowance on charitable donations,” Constance recalled.

“They must be different from those you or I support. I have certainly never encountered him at any such meetings. I shall ask around, though I’m not sure it’s the best place to start.”

“I want to know what’s wrong with Adelaide Jenkins,” Constance said with relish. “Let’s begin with Percy’s friends.”

“And then, perhaps, his manservant. There may well be things a valet would not tell his master’s parents. Which of these friends should we honor with a visit?”

“I vote for Robert Waltham, largely because he is married and therefore my presence will not shock.” Providing, of course, the Walthams never learned she was Constance Silver, notorious courtesan. She gathered up her most recent notes from the desk. “Let me just present the case of the barking dogs to Janey and then we can—”

Another brief knock interrupted her and Hat entered once more, her expression dazed and awed. Her mouth moved but no words came out, except, eventually, “Sir!”

And a mirror image of Solomon strode into the room behind her, grinning. Tall and lean, dark and handsome, he had let his hair grow in a more bohemian look that, along with his brighter clothing, was the most obvious difference between him and his brother. There were more subtle differences around the eyes. Both pairs were haunted, but the newcomer’s bore a darker, harder pain and considerably less self-assurance.

Neither of those qualities were on display now as Constance brushed past her husband to greet him, both hands held out. “David!”

Solomon stood unmoving. He needed a moment to adjust to this longed-for occurrence. His brother’s return.

“How wonderful,” Constance exclaimed, as David took her hands. He tried to bow, but she reached up and kissed his cheek. “Welcome home!”

And then she was enveloped in a hug that took her by surprise. David had always retained a certain aloofness before, and at this open affection, a lump formed in her throat. Then she felt Solomon behind her, and David let her go.

“Sol.”

The brothers gripped each other’s upper arms for a moment, and then Solomon wrapped his arms all the way round his brother in a proper hug. Constance smiled with secret relief, for David had been away for months longer than he had intended, and she had feared the hard-won closeness between the siblings would have gone back to the awkwardness of that first reunion after twenty years apart. During those twenty years, neither had known if the other still lived. To David, Solomon had become like a ghost, a made-up dream of himself. But Solomon had never stopped looking for his twin. He just hadn’t really known what to do with him once he found him.

As he grew stronger in mind and spirit, David had chosen his own way. He had traveled to France to further explore the art that was his talent and his interest. Solomon had feared he would never come home, had learned to live with the possibility, and now that he was back…

Solomon clutched his brother for a moment. They parted, grinning like schoolboys, though the tension of emotion still thrummed through Solomon as if he might break.

“When did you get home?” he managed.

“Just last night. Late.”

“You look so well,” Constance said. “Clearly you’ve had a wonderful time, even better than your letters gave away! I want to hear all about it.”

“I want to tell you all about it! Which is why I’ve come to invite you to dine tonight. Jenks and Cook are beyond delighted, so I hope you have no previous engagement.”

None that could not be broken instantly. “We’ll be there.”

*

How odd, Solomon thought, as the carriage rumbled toward Mayfair, to be welcoming his brother home. Little more than a year ago, there had been no proof that he was even alive.

Sometimes, life’s blessings seemed to overwhelm Solomon. He had been alone for so long…and now he had Constance, his wife, his partner, his joy; and David, the missing part of himself that was blossoming into something new. David had come home. And he seemed full of a new vitality, as though he had found healing as well as new purpose in his art.

Constance’s hand crept into Solomon’s and he clasped it. She was his anchor, grounding him, yet reminding him one always had permission to feel. And feeling was good.

He breathed out, letting his head fall back against the seat and turning to look at her. “Remind me about these Walthams.”

“Recently married, both of good family. He is a gentleman of leisure, living off his own land and investments, inherited wealth from his late father. He and Percy Harvey were at school together and maintained the friendship into adulthood. It will be interesting to hear what they each have to say.”