“Matthew is telling you the truth,” Elizabeth interrupted. “The man before you is indeed a doctor, but he is also a criminal of the lowest kind and quite cunning. Greta is your name? Well, Greta, I can vouch for these two constables because this doctor committed several murders in the Spitalfields district of London several years ago. One of the victims was my sister, and I am accompanying these men to see that justice is done when the doors slam shut on him in prison.”

It did not help his case that Firebaugh at that moment gave a crazed laugh.

Greta Autrey stood open-mouthed. She blinked twice but otherwise did not move.

When he was done with his strangled chortling, Firebaugh might have continued to plead his case if he hadn’t felt Julian’s hand clenched to the back of his banyan robe and tugging him very slightly down toward the red-hot center of the flames.

“Tar und Feder mich,” said Greta. She shrugged. “I’m thinking my Oliver better figure this one out, because I am verdutzt!”

“And I am hungry,” Matthew said, glad to get past this little mountain in the road. “We all are, I’m sure. May we impose upon you for at least some soup and a bit of bread?”

“But it’ll have to be fast,” Julian added. “We can only stay an hour at most and the sooner we’re out the better.”

Greta Autrey might be a simple woman who helped run a small coaching inn, and she might be in the twilight of her fifth decade with a cloud of gray hair and a ruddy-cheeked, gap-toothed countenance, but Matthew could tell she was not stupid. This comment from Julian put the mortar to her construction that likely no one of the four was telling the truth. Her eyelids might have drooped to a suspicious half-mast, but what was she to do?

“I have a pot of chicken soup with barley and enough bread for you all to have a slice,” she said. “The pot’s in the kitchen. You can eat at the table in there if you please.”

“Excellent!” said Matthew. “Speaking of pots, if I’m not too indelicate might I ask also if there’s a room with a chamberpot available?”

“Back there.” She motioned toward a hallway. “One chamberpot will have to suit all. And I ask that you use it, take it outside, dump it and clean it with snow. Ja?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“What is this?” Elizabeth suddenly asked.

Matthew and the others turned to see what had caught her interest. She had walked a few steps to the other side of the room, where a small fir tree was planted in a dark green pot of earth. The tree was decorated with small paper roses in the branches and strands of multi-colored beads were wound around and around, giving quite a beautiful effect.