“Thank you for your time, sir,” I said, leading Anna toward the door. I couldn’t get out of here fast enough.
“Cassidy!” Arnold suddenly barked, thumping the desk with a fist in exclamation. “I knew I’d heard that name before.”
Anna turned. Pale.
Arnold held her wide-eyed gaze. Slowly his attention swept to me.
“I fear someone else is on the hunt, Inspector,” he said. “Such inquisitiveness can be troublesome, wouldn’t you say?”
Anna took a step forward, but a hand on her arm halted her trajectory. Thomas Arnold was as crafty as they came. The books on his shelf were real. The scientific experiments a prop. The rose petals a foil to hide the true man behind the mask.
What had Anna’s cousin done to set Thomas Arnold off?
I nodded my head, accepting the warning, and escorted Anna from the room; Blackie on our tail. We didn’t speak until we stepped out of the building proper. Anna still pale. Blackie looking perturbed. My blood pumping.
Arnold was warning me. But why? What the dickens would Wilhelmina Cassidy be doing to warrant such?
“I think you need to start talking, Dr Cassidy,” I said gruffly.
Anna blinked. Sighed. And then said, “Oh, bother.”
Mince Pies?
Anna
The chief constable had not reacted to the mention of Wilhelmina. And for most of the time that we’d spent in that farce of a room with Superintendent Arnold, he’d not reacted either. But that look he’d cut Andrew at the end. It meant something. And that warning he’d issued.
What had Mina done?
She’d been here, of that I was certain. She’d asked questions. Of which I was sure the superintendent had not answered. But where had she gone afterwards?
“Doctor?” Kelly pressed at my side.
“Give me a moment,” I instructed, starting to pace.
Had she been visiting any of the sights we’d discussed of an evening? The Crystal Palace? Marie Tussaud’s? Olympia? Had it all been a charade? What had happened to my meek and mild cousin? And why this sudden interest in Inspector Kelly?
The flower book was of course in relation to the inspector’s wife. Mina had been involved in the discovery of Mrs Kelly’s name in the book from the inspector’s old barracks. But we’d not discussed any of it since arriving here. It was the past. It was over. It was the reason why my heart had been shredded. I did not wish to revisit it.
But Mina had. Why?
If I knew how she’d been spending her days, perhaps I could extrapolate as to why she had pursued this course of action. I’d been so busy lately. So concerned with my own affairs. The pressure at school had been unrelenting, but I could have spared a moment to check on my vulnerable cousin. Followed up on her supposed day’s attractions. Attended one when she’d advised of her schedule.
I fisted my hand and stopped pacing. Mina? What have you done?
“Anna, it is getting late,” Inspector Kelly advised from behind me.
I turned and lifted my face up to his; saw the concern there. A matching look graced Sergeant Blackmore’s weathered face.
It was getting late. Perhaps Mina had returned to our lodgings. It was a hollow hope, but I clung to it. At the very least, I needed to go through her belongings. Find a clue. Follow up on every scrap of evidence.
Kelly stepped closer. So big and broad of shoulders. So imposing. So safe.
My heart rebelled at that thought. There was nothing safe about Andrew Kelly.
“Anna,” he said softly. “What is going on?”
I opened my mouth. Closed it. And then said, “I don't know.”
“Your cousin?” he pressed.
“Missing.”
He drew back; shock replacing concern. “Since when?”
“This morning.”
Sergeant Blackmore stepped closer. “Doesn’t she wander, miss?”
“So I believed,” I admitted. “But I fear I have not kept a close enough eye these past months.”
“Does Miss Cassidy require a close eye?” Kelly asked.
I nodded my head. “Mina daydreams. Loses herself in her fantasies. I thought she’d been daydreaming at the National Gallery. Or maybe St Paul’s. That’s what she led me to believe.”
“And you doubt it now?” Blackmore asked.
“I do,” I said, realising the truth of the statement. My eyes met Inspector Kelly’s. “I hadn’t put the facts together. I’m not sure I’m aware of all of them yet. But it would seem, Inspector, that my cousin has taken an interest in… you.”
“Me?”
“I know,” I said, waving my hand in dismissal. “It does seem bizarre.”
“Indeed.”
“But you must confess, you cut an imposing figure.”
“I’ll do no such thing as confess.”
“And carry an air of mystery.”
“Mystery?” Kelly demanded.
I shrugged my shoulders, twisted my closed parasol around in my hands, then started walking in the direction of Temple Bar.
It took several steps for me to realise Andrew was not following. I stopped and turned. Was it that easy to lose him?
“Sir?” Blackmore pressed. “She’s getting away.”
“She’s not a fish,” Kelly remarked mildly.
“Yes, sir. But she is Miss Cassidy. Doctor Cassidy.” Blackmore cleared his throat. Leant closer and whispered, although his words carried on the fog-filled air, “Yours.”
Kelly made a frustrated sound and marched after me. He didn't limp at all. I curtailed the smile that wanted out. Told myself his presence did not help one iota. But as he made my side and matched his steps to mine, I couldn’t help the feeling of peace that stole over me.
“This is not over,” he declared. “We’ll escort you home. You’ll tell us everything. And we - Sergeant Blackmore and I - will start searching for Miss Cassidy.”
“What of your hunt?” I enquired.
His turn to wave a dismissive hand through the air. “Miss Cassidy must come first.”
Relief washed over me. I knew the constabulary would not move on a missing woman of a mere few hours. But something told me, Mina was in trouble. We needed to start looking straight away.
For the life of me, I did not know where to start. I prayed a more thorough look through her possessions would elicit some new information. But I was thankful for an experienced eye.
Despite our disagreements, Inspector Kelly was very good at his job. And even if not a member of the Metropolitan Police Force any longer, he still had contacts. He still knew the city better than I. He was still Mina’s best bet.
“I’m glad you are here,” I murmured, feeling the heat of his gaze as we continued to walk.
He didn't reply, though. And I’d not expected him to. But his continued presence was answer enough for now.
A short time later, having hired the service of a hansom cab, we arrived at Mrs Pugh’s boarding house. A candle burned on the windowsill of the sitting room. The suffragette meeting long past. I tipped my head back and looked at the darkened window above. The curtains weren’t drawn. Mina had not made it home.
A sick feeling settled in my stomach. My hand automatically moved there. Kelly made another frustrated sound, and gripped my elbow, helping me up the steps of the home.
The door opened before we reached it; Mrs Pugh peering out, looking alarmed.
“Dr Cassidy,” she said. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine, Mrs Pugh,” I managed. She opened the door, staring daggers at the inspector and sergeant. “Allow me,” I said. “Mrs Pugh, Inspector Kelly and Sergeant Blackmore of Auckland Police. Gentlemen, my landlady.”
“Mrs Pugh,” Andrew said offering a bow, his hat removed, his large frame taking up too much space in the entryway.
“Inspector,” Mrs Pugh whispered.
“Mrs Pugh,” Sergeant Blackmore greeted. “Fine establishment you got yourself ‘ere.”
She brightened immediately on hear
ing Blackmore’s accent.
“And all the more cheerful for your being ‘ere, sir,” she replied, fingers curled in her apron self-consciously.
Blackmore winked, nodding towards her sitting room. “Do you mind, luv, if we partake of your accommodations. We’ve business to discuss with Dr Cassidy.”
Mrs Pugh turned her eyes to me, questioning.
“It’s all right, Mrs Pugh. They’re here to help.”
“Mina,” Mrs Pugh said, the first time I’d heard her call Wilhelmina anything other than Miss Cassidy.
“Has she…?” I started. Mrs Pugh shook her head, worry now etched into her features. She bustled over to the sitting room and began lighting more candles.
“I’ll make tea,” she advised.
“Much obliged,” Blackmore said, receiving a look from Inspector Kelly. The sergeant nodded his head and followed Mrs Pugh out of the room. “Tell you what, luv,” I heard him say. “How ‘bout you and I have a natter. It’s been a right long time since I parleyed with somin’ who’s mince pies light up the skies like yours do.”
“Oh, you!” Mrs Pugh scoffed happily, any further reply lost as they made their way to the back of the house and the kitchen.
“Mince pies?” I said, arching a brow at the inspector.
He shook his head, his hat in his hands before him, uncertainty painting a picture across his handsome face.
And then he dropped the hat on a nearby settee and took three steps to reach me.
“Anna,” he rasped, wrapping me up in his warm embrace.
Poisonous In More Than One Way
Inspector Kelly
She let me hold her for a mere few seconds and then stepped back and looked away. Pain graced her perfect features. Sorrow and heartache.
I’d done that to Anna. I’d broken her heart and turned her away.
The sound of my throat clearing was too loud for the room. I watched as she made her way to the fireplace, stirring it back to life again.
“Will you tell me?” I asked.
“There’s not much to tell,” she offered.
“Then this won't take long.” And she could be rid of me.
Anna turned and looked up into my face. We stared at each other. And I knew without a shadow of doubt that I shouldn't have told her. That I shouldn’t have been so weak.
I love you. I have no right to, but I do. So help me God, I’m so very much in love with you.
“Why are you here, Andrew?” she asked. My heart beat louder at the sound of my name. “In London. Why have you come all this way?”
“That is irrelevant,” I said softly. “Mina. Tell me of Mina.” My troubles could wait another day.
Anna looked lost for a moment and then turned to the nearest settee and sat down. Billows of lush sapphire fabric floated around her. She looked a vision in blue. I’d last seen her in charcoal grey. I’d imagined her in scarlet every night and every day.
“I graduated today,” she said, stunning me silent. “Mina didn't show at the auditorium.”
“What time was this?” I heard myself say.
“Two o’clock.”
“Were you aware of her plans?”
“She’d told me she’d be attending the graduation.” I couldn’t imagine Anna’s cousin missing it. “She failed to mention any other engagement. Mrs Pugh saw her leave at morning tea.”
“You’d already left for the graduation?”
“Meeting friends prior,” she confirmed. I smiled. The knowledge that Anna had made friends warmed me. “Dressed as though she intended to make an appearance at the graduation,” she added, “but wearing her well-worn travel cloak over the top.”
The travel cloak was significant, and Anna had not failed to notice its importance.
“Rather like the cloak you wore this evening,” I guessed. Her eyes met mine and she nodded. “Why Whitechapel?”
“You know why.”
“I’m sure I don’t, Miss Cassidy.”
“Must we revert to type?” she demanded; standing and beginning to pace.
I forced myself to my feet, my thigh beginning to ache.
“Apologies, Doctor.”
“You know what I mean, Andrew.”
“Do I?”
“Argh!” she growled making me suppress a grin. I’d forgotten how amusingly vexing Anna could be.
“Back to Mina,” I said.
“Mina,” Anna repeated. Then sighed. “When Mina was young, she was incorrigible. Such an inquisitive child, I'm told.”
“You didn't know her?”
“Not back then. Her parents worked up north, near Hokianga. Missionaries.”
“Ah,” was all I could manage.
“Their work took them into the heart of Ngāpuhi land. Māori land. She speaks it fluently, did you know?”
“No. I did not.”
“Anglican, of course,” she said. “But there were Catholics aplenty still then. Many of the indigenous favoured Catholicism; the church having secured patronage of the local Māori chief some years before. But, as I’m sure you’re aware, Inspector, if one tribe or hapū adopted Catholicism, a rival often adopted Anglicanism or even Wesleyan. In some cases, different members of the same community chose a completely different religion from their neighbour. To cover their bets, you see? Differences of religion, therefore, added to an already unstable environment.
“Mina’s parents were caught up in the ensuing unrest. It is believed that on one excursion to a Māori settlement in the far reaches of the Hokianga, Mina’s parents attempted to broker peace between tribes. Their efforts failed, and they were lost.”
“Killed?”
“As many of the Māori were killed.”
“But not by Militia.”
“No, infighting amongst themselves caused enough deaths.”
Anna looked away, staring into the fire, no doubt thinking of her own father’s death.
I longed to soothe her, lest she falter in her storytelling. I warranted Mina’s history explained a lot of the chit today.
“Where was Mina at the time of her parents’ deaths?” I asked instead.
Anna lifted haunted eyes to me. “With them, Inspector. Where they went, Wilhelmina went.” She looked down again. “Thank the heavens that did not apply to their graves.”
“Bloody hell,” I murmured. “How did she escape?”
“I don't know. She has not talked of it. She arrived on our doorstep in late in 1883. Mute. Malnourished. A ghost of a human being. Father couldn't turn her away. I wouldn't have let him. We took her in and slowly nursed her back to health. We managed to ascertain some of what had transpired; the missionaries who deposited her with us filled in the rest of the gaps. But not how she walked out of Ngāpuhi land in bare feet and dressed as a local.
“Her first words to me were in Māori.”
Shocked, I too stared at the fire unseeing.
“Do you understand, Inspector? Do you see now how precious she is? And yet how strong?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Mina thinks differently from us. She has an enormous capacity for empathy. And an abhorrence of violence. She faints at the sight of blood. She dresses as femininely as she can. Adheres to all social conventions. And yet she cannot pass a Māori on the street without greeting them in their native tongue.”
“Unique.”
“Yes,” Anna said. “And possessing an inherent need to correct wrongs.”
“The suffragette movement,” I guessed.
Anna nodded. “I thought perhaps her involvement was mainly because of me. Mina always supports me, even when she doesn’t understand me.” Anna’s eyes met mine. “Blood,” she added simply. I nodded. “But at her heart, hidden behind layers of psychological trauma, is a woman with strong ideals. It’s just that her mind can not always think clearly enough for her to act on them.
“She gets distracted, so easily, you see. One thought can merge into another on the fluttering of a bird’s wing. She can lose hours that way. Days e
ven. I had thought there was much to entertain her here in London. Much for her distracted mind to engage.”
“And instead she has engaged in something other than sightseeing,” I offered.
“Yes,” Anna said simply.
“Me,” I added.
“Yes.”
“Whitechapel is close by,” I offered.
“Very.”
“They hold tours for Jack the Ripper, I believe.”
“Indeed.”
“The murders in Lambeth,” I said on a breath of exhausted air. Damn you, Wilhelmina Cassidy.
“Prostitutes, just like Sir William,” Anna agreed, referring to the real Jack the Ripper.
“But they weren’t… slashed.”
“Disembowelled,” Anna agreed. “No. Poisoning this time. Strychnos nux-vomica. Nasty thing.”
I swallowed bile, forced my heart rate to settle. Strychnine was indeed nasty. I had seen its effects before now. I feared we’d see its effects many times more before this murderer was through.
“But the Wilhelmina you describe,” I said, “could not possibly have gone from Whitechapel Ripper to Lambeth Poisoner.”
Anna stopped pacing and turned to look at me.
“Couldn’t she?”
I blinked. Unable to formulate an argument.
“Think, Inspector,” Anna urged. I felt too hot all of a sudden. “A poison derived from a plant. The seeds of a flower, to be precise.”
No. I wouldn’t accept it.
“Anna,” I started.
“Much like the flower found on the book in your barracks. The book delivered to me by a murderer.”
“Deadly Nightshade is not strychnine.”
“But both kill.”
“Anna,” I started again, but she turned her back to me.
Deadly Nightshade and strychnine. Poisonous in more than one way.
A More Incongruous Vision I Had Never Seen
Anna
The sound of the post arriving made the tea I’d just sipped taste sour. I lowered the cup to its saucer, noting absently that my hand did not shake although my breath stuttered, and waited for Mrs Pugh to enter the dining room.
Breathless (Scarlet Suffragette, Book 2): A Victorian Historical Romantic Suspense Series Page 4