He pointed at Mrs Sucksby.
I saw him, and heard him, but could not act. I only said, ''What—?'' and Maud, I think, also cried out, ''What—?'' or ''Wait—!''
But Mrs Sucksby rose from Gentleman''s side. Her taffeta dress was soaked in his blood, the brooch of diamonds at her bosom turned to a brooch of rubies. Her hands were crimson, from fingertip to wrist. She looked like the picture of a murderess from one of the penny papers.
''I done it,'' she said. ''Lord knows, I''m sorry for it now; but I done it. And these girls here are innocent girls, and know nothing at all about it; and have harmed no-one.''
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Chapter Seventeen
My name, in those days, was Susan Trinder. Now those days all came to an end.
The police took every one of us, save Dainty. They took us, and kept us in gaol while they tore up the Lant Street kitchen, looking for clues, for stashes of money and poke. They kept us in separate cells, and every day they came and asked the same set of questions.
''What was the murdered man, to you?''
I said he was a friend of Mrs Sucksby''s.
''Been long, at Lant Street?''
I said I was born there.
''What did you see, on the night of the crime?''
Here, however, I always stumbled. Sometimes it seemed to me that I had seen Maud take up the knife; some