Chapter 22

CHAPTER22

"This is the place," Edward said, as he opened the carriage door and helped Leah out. They jumped down onto the pavement and stared at the small, shabby looking house, with one of the seven windows broken and the paint completely peeled off of the side of the wet walls. "If I lived here, I would also want to find any means of escaping it."

Leah turned to him. Perhaps he had crossed the line with this comment. Sometimes, he was too blunt. He knew this. He had been guilty of this transgression many times before. It was simply who he was. He believed that he was free to tell the truth, and he saw no reason to make it pretty in order to spare anyone’s feelings. The truth was as it was, usually not very pretty. However, with Leah, he found himself wanting to choose his words, to at least soften the blow of the truth. He did not want to hurt her with either the truth or his words.

"My mother helped people like this," she said, almost as if she did not hear what he said, or if she did, she chose to ignore it, for which he was grateful. "People who needed a second chance at life, or people who were simply unable to make ends meet."

"It is no wonder then that my parents knew your mother," he said softly when they gazes met once more. "They served the same higher purpose. They wanted to help people."

"Yes," she smiled. Then, a dark cloud washed over her. "And they were punished for it. It seems that good deeds can only be punished in this world."

"No, no," he endeavored to assure her. "Without good deeds this world would be a horrible place, without people like my parents and your mother as well. Now, it is up to us to find out what happened to them."

Leah still seemed sad, so he embraced her gently, kissing her forehead. He knew that was highly inappropriate, to do so in broad daylight, in the middle of the street, with all those passersby, but he did not care one bit about any of them. All he cared about was making his wife feel better. When he released her from his embrace, he could tell that he managed to do exactly that.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," she smiled more confidently this time.

Hand in hand, they headed toward the door. Edward knocked. A few seconds had passed and there was no response.

"Perhaps no one is home," Leah suggested, gazing at the door almost as if she could see right through it. Just when she said that, there was the sound of the doors being unlocked, then a woman appeared, wearing a dirty, ragged dress and an apron that was once white, but was now a mere shadow of that color.

"Yes?" she looked at them. The moment she realized they were a lord and a lady, she quickly pulled up the hem of her apron and wiped her hands on it. Edward could see that her hands were rough. They belonged to someone who worked hard for their bread. He could respect that and that was why his gaze did not dwell on her hands at all, but rather on her eyes.

"I apologize for appearing unannounced, but we were hoping to speak to the family of the deceased Harry O’Riley," Edward explained their reason for visit.

"Why?" she asked, sounding incredulous.

"I am the Duke of Repington," Edward continued. "Harry was–"

"Employed with your parents," she finished his intended statement. Edward was trying to figure out if the lady had any desire to speak to them, but still standing in the doorway made it seem unlikely. "What is it you wish to speak to us about?"

"Well... Harry," Edward told her plainly. "We want to know about his past."

The moment he mentioned that, he could see the woman’s left eye twitch barely noticeably. She probably knew exactly what he was referring to.

"Why would you want to dig up a dead man’s past anyway?" she asked, her eyes turning to two little slits on her face, questioning and judging the people standing in front of her. Edward had to say that he didn’t like this woman at all. He was certain that Leah shared his conviction, although she was yet to say something.

"Because it might help someone who is still alive," Leah spoke, surprising both the woman and Edward.

The woman hesitated for a moment, then stood aside, allowing them in. She closed the door behind them a little too noisily and once again, Edward wondered if that was done on purpose, to further show them how unwelcome they truly were. Edward could feel it in the air, but he knew that he had to ask his questions. After all, that was why they were there.

Silently, the woman beckoned them to follow her into the only room on the first floor, which served as both a kitchen, a dining room and a living room. Edward could see a staircase at the farthest end of the room, which led upstairs to what he could only assume were the bedrooms. The whole place smelled of fish and cabbage, a combination which was not particularly pleasing to the nose.

The woman stopped in the middle of the room, looking at them. Only then did Edward notice a man seated in the armchair. His entire body pose was akin to a man who had just been woken up from an afternoon nap and wasn’t too happy about it. He eyed them as curiously as they eyed him, with the exception that they were in his house and not the other way around. Then, his gaze darted at his wife.

"These people are here to talk about Harry," she informed him officially, obviously without any intention of offering their guests to sit down or have some tea. Not that Edward was in the mood for any tea. In fact, he wanted to ask his questions as quickly as possible, see how hastily he could get any replies and then leave this place never to return.

"Harry?" the man grumbled disapprovingly. "Harry’s dead. Whaddya want with ’im?"

"As I was telling your wife, your son Harry was in employment with my late parents, the Duke and the Duchess of–"

"If he stole anythin’, we ain’t got it," the man interrupted Edward, waving his hand dismissively.

Edward cleared his throat a little before continuing. "I’m not here for anything like that."

"Then what are ya here for?" the man demanded to know.

"I just have a few questions regarding Harry, if you would be kind enough to answer them," Edward suggested. "It has come to my attention that Harry was involved with some criminal activities in his youth, and perhaps you knew some of the people he was with back then." Edward could immediately tell that this conversation would amount to nothing.

The man stood up, obviously enraged. "You come to my home, accusin’ me of hangin’ round lowlifes and criminals?"

"I wasn’t insinuating any such thing, I assure you," Edward tried, but there was no rectifying this situation.

"You listen here now," the man pointed at Edward with his index finger. He was one of those people who did not care much about social classes, and believed that in a fist fight, two men were equal whether they were rich or poor. Edward did not have the slightest intention of getting into any altercation with this man, who had a faint scent of alcohol about him. "My son made a lot of bad choices when young, that was before your parents gave him a chance. But we," he pointed at himself and his wife, "knew nothin’ of this murky business. So don’t you come in here, accusin’ anyone of dealin’ with criminals when it was only Harry who was doin’ that."

"I understand," Edward nodded. He could see that Leah had already taken a step back, apprehensive at what she was hearing and the way that man was speaking. "I did not mean any offense, I assure you."

Usually, Edward would never allow someone to talk to him like that, especially when he had come not threatening or offending anyone, but simply asking for answers to his questions. However, this man had lost a son. First, he lost him to crime, then in real life, forever. Edward could not blame him for being bitter and angry with the whole world. In fact, Edward would not be the slightest bit surprised if the man blamed himself for losing his son, only he was too blind to realize that, so that now, his anger was misplaced. For all of that, Edward decided to be the bigger person.

"We won’t take up more of your time," he added, grabbing Leah by the hand and heading back toward the door. Fortunately, it was just one straight line of several steps that would take them out of this stuffy home and into the illuminated street.

But when they opened the door and were about to close them, Edward could see that the woman followed them. She turned around, hesitant to see whether they were alone. When she was assured of this, she leaned forward and whispered in a weak voice that was on the verge of breaking.

"You two are young and still have your whole lives ahead of you," she spoke her words slowly, as if each word cost her a lot and she wanted to put them to good use. "Leave all this behind, before you put yourselves in more danger than you ever thought possible." Edward could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes, which she was trying to keep restrained.

Just when Edward was about to ask her more about this danger, she slammed the door in his face. He turned to Leah, incredulous at what just happened.

"Well, that certainly did not go the way I thought it would," he admitted as they turned around and started heading back to the carriage. Leah was silent. "What do you think?" he probed. He wanted to hear her opinion on everything, and especially on this.

"I think they don’t know anything," Leah finally spoke as they were already inside the carriage and Edward gave the signal to the footman to take them back home.

"You think so?" he wondered.

"Yes," she nodded, looking at him gravely. "They lost Harry. They have a daughter, and now she is their only child. I don’t think they would get involved in any criminal dealings, because they know where it would lead them. Harry’s mother was suppressing her tears when she warned us to stay away from all this. You’ve seen it, too. That means that her husband has all the control in that family. Regardless of what it may appear, I think she loves her children. She loved Harry and she loves the daughter she still has. That alone makes me believe that she wouldn’t do anything that might get her in trouble."

"What about her husband?"

"He is wallowing in self-pity," she explained. "He is too weak to do anything. Did you see that his first reaction was him thinking we came to accuse Harry of having stolen something then bringing it there, to them? He was quick to tell us he doesn’t have whatever it is we are looking for."

"Yes," Edward agreed, pondering on what she was saying.

"So, no," Leah sighed. "I don’t think it was a waste of time to come here, but we didn’t find out much. At least we didn’t find out what we needed to know."

"We need to plan further," Edward pointed out.

"We need to go to that address," she reminded him impatiently.

"We do," he said. "But we can’t just appear there, with nothing that we know for certain. We need something tangible, something we can prove."

"We can discuss this some more at home," she suggested. "Maybe we shall have some new outlooks on the whole matter."

He nodded. He watched her turn to the window and wondered what she was thinking about. He didn’t ask her. He allowed her a moment of peace, hoping to steal one for himself as well.