The Poisoner's Game

Chapter 28

A.

I returned to the room. The woman remained closed-lipped, following me with her eyes. I slowly walked around her, "Well, you must not know anything." I came up from behind her, slamming my open palms against the table on either side of her body. "You're worthless, that's why the Poisoner used you. You're expendable," I came around and yelled into the woman's face. "Nothing, but a dried-up old hag." That got her, and her mouth tightened, even as she shook in fright.

My father always said, "Attacking the self-image of a proud and overconfident prisoner will break them."

Still, the woman didn't speak, which didn't surprise me. I had hoped it wouldn't come to that, but she still believed the Poisoner would be worse to cross.

I nodded toward one of my father's men. He pulled out a black hood and stalked toward the unaware woman. He roughly shoved the hood over her head, bringing her to a stand as she pushed against his arms.

He handed her to me, and I put her into a painful submission hold, whispering into her ear, "I'm going to release you to the Poisoner, tied up and trussed like a lamb to slaughter. There will be no possibility of escape. If he doesn't want you, you'll remain there at the mercy of the streets."

I tightened my hold, thinking of the pain she brought to Margaret. The woman gasped.

"You're only as useful as the information you can impart to me."

I needed to keep a level head, even as rage threatened to overwhelm me. This was not the Frenchman who murdered my mother. This was not the Navy nor many countless bloody encounters. This was just a woman caught in the same game as everyone else. The Poisoner's game.

"I am not the law, and I won't give you a fair trial." I slammed her into the table. Her head bounced against the wooden surface.

"Please, please, stop," she sobbed, "I'll tell you everything."

I released her as if she were a poisonous snake and one of the men pushed her into the chair. He untied the black hood and removed it from her head. She immediately rubbed at her neck, her hair fell in a mess around her face, and she panted heavily.

"Now, tell me everything you know." I sat across from her, my shoulder throbbing.

"Yes, milord." The woman bowed her head, touching her neck briefly where I could see faint red marks. She took a sip of water from the cup, looking anxiously around the room.

"Let's begin, mistress, with your real name." I flicked my hand toward one of the men, who pulled out a notepad and pencil.

"My name is Annie Marchland. I'm an actress." She took another sip of water, wiping her brow with her hand. She didn't meet my eyes.

"Work has been slow?" I pretended to brush lint from my sleeve, again playing the game of cat and mouse.

The woman's face flamed and thundered. "Nobody wants an old lady actress. All they want is a fresh dove, who will lick their boots." She coughed violently.

"How were you recruited?" I asked.

"Two men asked me to follow Mrs. Kiles for a couple of weeks, learning her mannerisms and schedule. I look quite a bit like her, you know. Anyway, I was then to tell them if she interacted with the girl." She pointed toward the room where Margaret slept, and I wanted to wrench her arm away. "They gave me ten pounds. They said they'd give me another forty, more than I make in a year if I pretended to be her when the girl came by."

"Who are 'they'?"

"They said they worked for a man who was interested in the girl. They said he was a man who would kill me if I crossed him. They never mentioned a name. They didn't need to. It was the Poisoner. Everyone in these parts knows about him." Mrs. Marchland worried her hands, before pushing back her greasy hair. "I told them that the woman met the girl. They told me to come here several days ago and that the girl would be here soon. I was to impersonate Mrs. Kiles and then put the girl to sleep with laudanum if it seemed like she didn't know anything. They said they would pick her up. You weren't supposed to be here, milord."

"What do they believe she knows?" I leaned forward.

"Who I was and why I called her. She didn't seem to know anything. They must have been wrong. She's nothing special. Even I can see that." The woman once again looked at me with a smirk. I swallowed my emotions.

I remembered Mrs. Marchland said something about the footman John Kiles, while she was in character. "Who is John Kiles?"

"The old woman's nephew," Mrs. Marchland sighed.

"What is his significance?"

"He gave the girl the note, I don't know what else."

I stalled, thinking. Margaret must have received the note when we were at Miss Jacobs' residence or her own residence. Meaning one of the Poisoner's men was closer than I could have guessed.

"Do you know why Mrs. Kiles would have summoned my companion?" I leaned back again, deciding to visit this John Kiles or rather beat him to a pulp.

The woman took her keen eyes from me and shook her head. "They forced me to watch while they interrogated the real Mrs. Kiles. She didn't tell them anything, but that only the lady would be the one able to find it. She said she could not tell because she made 'a promise on her own mother's grave never to tell anyone, but the lady.' I'm good at remembering lines." She stuck her nose in the air. "When they threatened to kill her, she said nothing."

"Anything else?" I asked. The pounding gavel of guilt beat into me. Another dead.

Mrs. Marchland chewed on her bottom lip. "What's in it for me?"

"Freedom."

Mrs. Marchland narrowed her eyes. "When they left her for a bit, she told me that 'if I were going to see her lamb give her, her love.' The old woman was delusional at that point. Might mean nothing."

The way Mrs. Marchland said it made me think she didn't believe that herself. "How did they kill her?"

"Oh, I didn't watch, milord." Mrs. Marchland shook her head in mock-horror. "They came back, killed her some way and stuffed her in that trunk. When she was dead, they ransacked the place, but they left with nothing. Took me days to clean it all up." She glowered around the room.

"Why should I believe you?"

"As you said, milord, I have nothing to lose." She gave me a black smile.

"My last question. What were they going to do with my companion, once they got her?"

"They never told me that, and I didn't ask." The woman crossed her arms across her chest. "I told you everything I know. Even more, than they know. I didn't tell them what Mrs. Kiles told me."

I stood abruptly. "That will be all, Mrs. Marchland." I nodded to one of the men.

The man tied Mrs. Marchland's hand together again but untied her feet from the chair. He pulled her up roughly by her arm. Mrs. Marchland looked over her shoulder as the man escorted her out of the room.

"Take her away," I told the men.

"But, where are you taking me?" Mrs. Marchland wailed, pushing against the men.

"Jail, Mrs. Marchland." I turned away as she grabbed at the door frames as the men pulled her from the room.

"You bloody liar!"

Perhaps, she was right.