“How did Jones die?” Heathbrook asked the constable. When the man looked nervously at the two women, Heathbrook added, “My wife was assaulted by the man. She has a right to hear it if she wants.”
“I want to know,” Giselle added.
“He hanged himself. There will be an inquest, of course, but that is how it appears. And the note definitely confirms it.”
“I would like to attend the inquest, if you don’t mind,” Heathbrook said.
“Of course, my lord.”
“But for now, you are welcome to join us in celebrating our marriage—” Giselle began.
“No, no, my lady. I still have much to do involving the man’s death. I merely thought you would like to know that you no longer have to worry about the scoundrel.”
“Thank you, Constable,” she said. “It vastly relieves me, and I know it will relieve my mother, too, not to mention Sarah.”
The constable nodded. “I shall show myself out, sir. No point in me intruding any further on your celebration.”
After he left, Scovell asked, “What do you think Jones meant when he said he’d done ‘unspeakable things’?”
“Betraying us?” Heathbrook said. “Trying to get Beasley imprisoned in Verdun for those anti-Napoleon etchings he did? Attempting to marry Sarah without her father’s knowledge? Trying to drag my wife off by force? It could have been any of those. We just don’t know enough about the man to be sure.”
“Perhaps we should try to find out more about him,” Jon said. “If he’s the one who betrayed us, then we no longer have to worry about finding the fellow.”
“And if he’s not?” Heathbrook asked.
“Then we need to keep looking.” Scovell turned to Tory. “Have you learned anything more from your father’s journals?”
“I don’t know what I’ve learned, since I don’t know all the people involved,” she admitted. “But I’ve cataloged all the names and their connection to Papa, and I can give that to one of you if that helps.”
“Give it to me,” Scovell said. “Now that I’ve settled my brother’s estate, I have some time on my hands.”
“How is your family?” Heathbrook asked.
“Better, actually. I think it was rougher watching him die. It sounds awful, but it’s almost a relief to have it be over.”
“Give them our best,” Jon said.
Suddenly, the door to the drawing room burst open and Zack and Kit ran in, led by Evan.
“What happened?” Evan demanded. “We saw the constable. Did they find Jones?”
“Is he going to prison?” Kit asked. “Because he should be for what he did to Giselle!”
“He should beshot,” Zack cried. “He hurt my mother!”
“Whoa, whoa, lads, no one is getting shot,” Heathbrook said. “Actually, Jones is already dead. He killed himself, I’m afraid.”
“Oh,” Kit said, a bit deflated.
“Good,” Evan said firmly.
“Did he shoot himself?” Zack asked, now clearly fascinated with the blood-and-gore part of the Jones saga.
“No, you bloodthirsty little devil,” Heathbrook said. “You don’t need to know how he died. He can’t hurt anyone anymore. That’s all you need to know.”
“I was just wondering,” Zack said sullenly.
As usual, Giselle smoothed things over. “Thank you, boys, for being so concerned on my behalf. You probably saved my life that day in the Labyrinth.”