“Mrs. Holloway, may I speak to you?” She waited, leaving it entirely up to me.

I dropped the last slice of my apple into a bowl, handed the paring knife to Tess, and led Miss Townsend out.

We went to the housekeeper’s parlor, which was empty, as Mrs. Redfern was still upstairs. We’d be uninterrupted for a little while at least.

It was nice to have the housekeeper’s parlor as a sanctuary again. My cookery books had been restored to the shelves, and the room’s air of welcome had returned.

I indicated that Miss Townsend should take the softest chair, while I settled myself on a straight-backed one. She waited for me to sit, then started directly in.

“Mrs. Holloway, I realize you are curious as to how I know Daniel McAdam. He could tell you nothing, but that is not his fault. I am now prepared to enlighten you.”

17

I did not want to seem too eager to hear all Miss Townsend had to say, but I imagine my quick intake of breath and twitch of hands betrayed me.

“Mr. McAdam told me the secrets were not his,” I said. “I understand.” So my mouth spoke, but I burned with curiosity.

“In Paris, two men were secretly and insidiously murdering any gentlemen who had knowledge of weaponry—that is to say, of armaments and of innovations in instruments of battle. Explosives and rifles, that sort of thing.”

I nodded, though my understanding of armaments was limited. “Did you find these men?”

“We did indeed. It was difficult, because no one knew exactly who they were, only that those researching and developing improvements to weapons were turning up dead. Obviously murdered—shot or stabbed to death. The killers turned out to be hirelings, who were very good at assassination. Once they were caught and turned over to the French police for trial, I was finished with the business, so I never learned which government they worked for, but it was one that did not want France to advance in terms of weaponry.”

I shivered. “Were those killed men of science? Not in the military?”

“You are correct. The gentlemen were involved in study and research, and that research was a deep, deep secret, which meant they were betrayed. Mr. McAdam was recruited to not only flush out the killers but to find the betrayer. I believe he did, in the end. The assassins never made it to the executioner’s block—they were found dead in their cells, possibly murdered, possibly slain by their own hands.”

I shivered again, harder this time. “I am glad I don’t know much about that world.”