Captain Orwood slapped a hand on Cameron’s shoulder. “You have always been a good officer, Westland. I’m glad you proved me wrong.”
Relief flooded Cameron’s chest. Finally, his life was back to normal. Well...semi-normal, anyway.
As the three men headed out of the station, Cameron prayed Gaynor would be at Mr. Bailey’s residence. He had a few questions to ask that bloke—in private, of course.
SEVENTEEN
Dressed in their crisp uniforms, Cameron stood next to Captain Orwood on Mr. Bailey’s front steps. McGreer leaned behind them on his crutch, wearing civilian’s clothes. Orwood decided McGreer didn’t need to represent an officer this time.
Orwood rang the bell, and they waited quietly for the old servant to answer the door. Cameron fidgeted as his mind thought of questions to ask Langston. By now, the man would know Rosie wasn’t in the attic bedroom any longer. And of course, the man should have figured that Rosie would tell her brother who had kept her prisoner. For certain, the man wouldn’t be here at all. If roles were reversed, Cameron would have fled town by now.
Finally, the door opened. The same old, near-deaf, servant Cameron had met the other day stood in front of them. He opened his mouth to speak, but the captain took a step forward and cleared his throat.
“We are officers of the Metropolitan Police here investigating a case. Is Mr. Heath Langston at this residence?”
The servant shook his head and leaned his right ear closer. “Eh?”
Orwood quickly repeated it, louder this time.
The servant nodded. “Mr. Langston has been staying here, but he left early this morning. I don’t know when he will return.”
“Tell me,” Cameron quickly added, “did Mr. Langston have baggage with him as though he was leaving for a few days?”
“I believe I did see a bag, sir.”
“Nevertheless,” the captain said, “we still need to look inside the house. Please stand aside and let us pass.”
“What?” the old man asked, crinkling his forehead as he shook his head.
“We need to look inside the house,” Cameron answered loudly.
The servant did as requested. The captain strode into the house first, Cameron followed, with McGreer trailing behind. So far everything looked the same as when Cameron was here before, except the rest of the family was not present.
Cameron led the way toward the study. He hoped the cane would still be here, but then why would the killer leave the murder weapon behind? Unless, of course, Heath Langston wasn’t that intelligent—or he thought the police investigators were fools.
Once Cameron entered the room, he headed straight back toward the window, the very place Madison had been hiding behind the drapes and had touched the cane. Out of the corner of his eyes, something grabbed his attention. He stopped and focused on the object that looked familiar. Leaning against the wall near the bookcase was the very cane he’d hoped to find.
He quickened his step until he stood in front of it. With his heart beating wildly, he picked up the cane and studied the chipped-off wolf’s head. Orwood stopped beside him, dug in his pocket, and pulled out the missing piece. Cameron held out the cane as the captain placed the piece on top.
It fit perfectly!
He breathed a sigh of relief, and suddenly couldn’t wait to see Madison again and tell her the wonderful news. Of course, she already knew since she’d had the vision. He would never doubt her again. He wanted to win her heart more than anything in the world.
Orwood swung around and looked at the servant who stood by the door. “Whose cane is this?”
“It’s Mr. Gaynor Brailsford’s, of course.”
Cameron sucked in a quick breath. Gaynor’s? It couldn’t be... “But isn’t this Langston’s office?”
The older man shrugged. “Not precisely. As it is, both he and his cousin have been using this room since Jacob Bailey’s death. Lord Hanover has yet to name anyone who will inherit Mr. Bailey’s holdings.”
“Are you certain this is Gaynor’s cane?” the captain snapped.
“Yes, sir.”
“Does Langston use a cane as well?”
The servant nodded. “Both men have walking canes. Tis the fashion, you know.”
“Where is Gaynor Brailsford?” Cameron asked.
“Eh?” The servant leaned an ear toward Cameron.
Grumbling, he fisted his hands, resisting the urge to shake the older man. “Gaynor Brailsford! Where is he?”
The servant flinched and motioned his head toward the front door. “Oh, he’s currently out.”
Cameron stepped past the captain and closer to the servant. “How long has Gaynor been in this residence?”
“For at least a month, sir.”
“How about Mr. Langston?” the captain added.
“About a sennight.”
Cameron nodded slowly. So both men were here before Mr. Bailey died. “One more thing,” he aimed his question to the servant. “Do you know if there is any place in town that Gaynor frequently visits where I might find him today?”
The servant shrugged. “I suppose any of the pubs would be a good place to start. Gaynor has been down on his luck lately, and so seeks solace at the bottom of a whiskey glass.”
Anger grew inside Cameron as he thought of Rosie even having feelings for this drunkard. What would make her choose him over other men? There had to be more to this story than Rosie was telling. Unless, of course, Gaynor lied to her and fed her an elaborate tale about his life just to impress her. At this moment, Cameron wouldn’t put that past the imbecile. Hopefully, Rosie wasn’t involved in this mess. He’d hate to think his own sister was an accomplice to murder, since she was in love with a killer.
Cameron glanced at the captain and nodded. “Shall we go there next?”
“Indeed, we shall, but let us finish up in here. I want to see if we find anything else.”
The officers spent another forty-five minutes inside the house. They didn’t obtain any more evidence. Cameron was relieved there wasn’t anything of Rosie’s here, either. He didn’t know how he would be able to explain that.
Soon, they left the estate and rode into town, heading for the closest pub. Cameron itched to get his hands on this man who could sway his sister so easily. Was Rosie so desperate for a man that she would choose anyone? His stomach clenched. It was his own fault, he supposed. He’d kept both sisters from attending any of society’s functions, mainly because he knew someone would break their hearts when their father’s scandal was brought up. In doing this, he’d purposely turned Alice into a spinster, with Rosie close behind.
He frowned and his heart twisted. He really needed to stop being so overprotective. How else would they find husbands? He couldn’t shelter them from the real world forever.
They stopped at the first pub they found. The Boar’s Head wasn’t as packed as Cameron thought it would be. Then again, it was still early in the day. He did a quick scan around the room and shook his head. Gaynor was not here.
Cameron stepped up to the bar keep. “Do you know Gaynor Brailsford?”
The man stopped wiping down the counter and nodded. “He’s been in a time or two.”
“Has he been in today?”
“No.”
“I thank you for your help.” Cameron headed back to the front door, motioning his hand for the other officers to follow.
The second pub they entered held more patrons. Slowly, he scanned the smoky room. The little light it held came from a few lamps, and not from the windows since they were covered in grime. In the back corner, he recognized the man he’d been introduced to as Gaynor Brailsford. The bloke sat at a table by himself, nursing a mug of whiskey. Inwardly Cameron seethed, and itched to wrap his fingers around the scrawny man’s neck for putting such crazy notions about eloping into his sister’s head.
Cameron glanced over his shoulder at his comrades. “He’s here, but let me go first. We don’t need to startle him yet.”
Orwood an
d McGreer nodded and stepped back into the shadows. Cameron took a deep breath, praying he wouldn’t lose his temper and strangle the man as he’d been thinking.
Slowly, he walked toward the back of the room, keeping his stare on Gaynor. The man didn’t seem to notice, but stared into his mug, frowning. Cameron couldn’t see why his sister had been so infatuated. Gaynor was not a handsome fellow. In fact, he wasn’t even brawny. One word came to Cameron’s mind as he studied the other man...simpleton. Indeed, Rosie must have been desperate.
Gaynor didn’t lift his eyes until Cameron stopped at his table. The man’s eyes widened and he sat up straighter.
“Inspector Westland,” he slurred slightly. “I hope you have come to bring me some good news about my cousin’s murder.”
“I have,” Cameron said with a curt tone. “But before I tell you what I found, I have a few questions for you.” He sat across from Gaynor, mainly so that he wouldn’t see the other two officers spying on him. “I want to know what plans you have with my sister, Rosie.”
The man’s bushy eyebrows lifted. “You know?”
Cameron bunched his hands under the table. “Rosie told me.”
Gaynor rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Do you know where she is?”
Confusion filled his mind, and he shook away the cloud. “Of course. She’s my sister, isn’t she?”
“But I was told she was missing.”
“You were told that? Pray, how did you not know she was being held against her will right under Mr. Bailey’s roof?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t play the dimwit with me, Brailsford. I know Langston locked her in the attic. My question is, what did you and your scheming cousin want with keeping her locked up?”
“You must be mistaken.” He scrubbed a hand over his hairy chin. “Don’t you think I would have known if Rosie had been in that house?”
“Yes, I would think so, but since that is where I had rescued her from the other night, I’m wondering what really happened.”
Gaynor’s expression appeared blank. Cameron didn’t know if the man was a talented performer, or if it was the alcohol making him look so innocent.
“I assure you, Westland, I didn’t know.”
“As much as I would love for you to tell me the real story, at least I’ll rest easily from now on knowing you will never be able to get your hands on her again.”
The man’s face tightened and his gaze narrowed. He raked his fingers through his unkempt hair. “If you think to keep me from the woman I love—”
“Oh, I don’t think I can do that. I know I can.” Cameron stood and glared down at the man. “Gaynor Brailsford, you are under arrest for the murder of Jacob Bailey.”
A loud gasp sprang from the man’s throat as he jumped to his feet. The chair he’d been sitting on toppled over. His face lost color and he swayed, but quickly grasped the table to keep from ending on the floor beside the chair.
“What? You think I killed my cousin?”
“Once again, Gaynor, I don’t think anything.” He withdrew the iron cuffs from his belt. “I know you did.”
Gaynor swore under his breath and shoved Cameron aside. Thankfully, he was prepared for this and jumped at him, knocking the man to the ground. As Gaynor struggled beneath him, Cameron brought the puny man’s arms behind his back and clamped on the iron cuffs.
There was nothing more thrilling than knowing he caught the criminal and locked him away. Satisfaction filled him, as did relief. Thanks to that wonderful woman, Madison Haywood, he’d not only found his sister, but caught a killer.
MADISON WAS NOT A PATIENT woman, especially when it came to her visions and trying to help others. Then again, this particular case had already waited so many years, and she didn’t think it could wait a moment longer.
She shouldn’t bother Cameron while he was confessing to his superior, so she tried to remember what Alice had told her about the case of the missing child the elder Mr. Westland had been working on and couldn’t solve. Apparently, the mother, Lady Hanover, had been shopping in town. Her daughter had been tired, and so went to lie down in one of the back rooms. That was the last time they’d seen the girl.
Having no idea which shop to visit first, Madison walked from building to building, asking questions. None of these places had been around for many years, and they hadn’t heard anything about Lord Hanover’s missing child.
The middle of the afternoon’s sun shone brightly, and not even a slight breeze could disturb the lovely day. No clouds hid the perfect powdery blueness of the sky. To those people in town, Madison probably looked like a woman who was just enjoying a leisurely stroll, and yet, her leisure was a bit hastier than the others doing their shopping this fine day.
A delicious scent wafted through the air from the nearby shops. It smelled like sticky buns. Her stomach rumbled slightly, and her mouth watered, anticipating the taste of the cinnamon. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop for refreshment. Not until she found some answers.
She entered a clothing shop and glanced around the opened space. An older woman moved around behind the long desk in the back as she folded yards of cloth. A man—who looked to be around the woman’s age—sat in a chair with his head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, mouth opened as light snores escaped him. There were only two patrons in the shop, but they were closer to the window.
Madison strode toward the older woman with pure white hair. When the woman noticed her, she smiled, which brought more wrinkles to the corner of her eyes and around her mouth.
“Good day,” the woman greeted.
“Good day to you.” Madison smiled. “I hope you can help me with something.”
“I would be delighted.” She left the yards of cloth on the long desk and walked toward Madison. “Is there something special I can show you today?”
“Actually, no. But if you don’t mind, I need to ask you a few questions.”
“All right.”
“First, I’m wondering how long your shop has been here.”
The smile on the woman’s face withered slightly as her expression turned to confusion. “We have been in business about ten years. Why do you ask?”
“I’m trying to find a place that has been in business for a long time. You see, I’m trying to track down a missing person that was taken from a shop many years ago. I’m sorry I don’t have a specific year this happened, but I know the girl was taken from a shop, and that there was a room in the back of the building where she’d been kidnapped.”
The woman’s eyes rounded and she gasped. “Are you asking about Lord and Lady Hanover’s missing daughter?”
Madison wanted to shout in relief that this woman remembered. “Yes, that’s the one. What do you know of this?”
“Well, I don’t know as much as my sister, Gretchen. She owns the Millinery shop across the street. That was where the little girl was taken.”
Excitement rushed through Madison, and she clapped her hands. “That is wonderful! I shall go there posthaste. I thank you for giving me directions.”
“Best of luck, my dear. My sister’s getting on in years, and so her mind roams quite often, but I’m sure she will remember about Lord and Lady Hanover’s daughter.”
“Thank you again.” Madison rushed out of the shop and stopped before crossing the street. Buggies and single riders on horses filled the street, but she could see the shop well enough to know where she was headed. Good fortune was finally on her side today. She prayed it stayed with her as she searched for clues to the Hanover girl’s disappearance.
As she waited for the buggies to move so she could pass, an eerie sensation slithered all over her body. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and quivers passed over her. Someone was watching her. She just knew it.
Slowly, she moved her gaze up the street, scanning everyone she could, and then she shifted her focus down the street, repeating the same movement. Nobody looked familiar. Of course, she wasn
’t used to this section of town since it was completely opposite of the Metropolitan Police station where she was very used to visiting.
She tried listening if anyone called her name, but because of the noise in the street—people talking, wheels of the buggies crunching on the road, and the neighs of horses—she wasn’t able to focus very well. Perhaps she was just imagining her feelings. But...that never happened before. For certain, someone out there was watching her.
Shaking off the feeling, she watched again for when she could cross the road. Finally, a break came in between a carriage and a horse, so she lifted her skirt to just above her ankles and ran. She made it in front of the shop without any problems, and so she breathed a sigh of relief.
Madison looked up at the large sign hanging on the store that read simply, Gretchen’s Millinery. Now that she studied it, the structure did appear a little older than the other shops around it. Hopefully, the old woman’s memory was clear enough for her to remember the details about the kidnapping.
She took a deep breath as excitement rushed through her. Helping people was indeed her lot in life. She couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
As she reached for the door handle, fast boot-steps clamored her way, startling her. Before she could look over her shoulder to see what the commotion was all about, a strong hand clamped on her shoulder. Fear turned her blood to ice. She jumped and spun around.
EIGTHEEN
Madison blinked, clearing her vision. Looming before her was the handsome face of the inspector she hadn’t been able to get off her mind since meeting him.
“Oh, Cameron,” she sighed heavily, trying to regulate her quick heartbeat. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw you from up the street.” He motioned behind of him. “I couldn’t wait another minute to tell you the good news.”
“What?”
He clasped her hands in his. “We arrested Mr. Bailey’s murderer...thanks to you.”
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