Colin yanked our coats from the hall tree and tossed mine to me. “It could be,” he said as he shrugged into his.
“He’s just a boy,” I could not stop myself saying. “Why would they hurt a boy?”
“Why would they kill three dogs?” came the very answer I had not wanted to hear. Colin’s face was set and hard. “They are leading us like lemmings!” he snarled. “We must not follow anymore.”
He turned on his heels and barreled down the stairs, leaving me with my heart severed at the very thought of poor William Hutton. I wanted to ask Colin what he intended to do, but he’d already seized the door and stepped out into the night. And then, with the stealth of a whisper, the thought seized me that perhaps we had all already been led over the cliff.
CHAPTER 34
Mrs. Hutton held herself with dignity, and yet I could sense a great simmering anger just beneath her faultless exterior. Her behavior was in stark contrast to that of her missing son’s nurse, who had been so bereft that Mrs. Hutton had banished her from the drawing room almost the moment we had arrived. I knew Mrs. Hutton was trying to remain optimistic about her boy’s safety, so I hoped Colin and Inspector Varcoe would tread warily.
“It is not my habit to check on William once he has been put down for the night,” she informed the inspector in a straightforward yet clipped tone. “As you know, he has a nurse whose room is attached to his. That is what she does.”
“You mustn’t take offense. I’m only trying to establish what has happened,” he mumbled, his face quickly flushing a warm pink.
“What has happened”—she bit at the words as though chewing a piece of bitter fruit—“is that my boy has been taken. Have we not discussed it enough already? Is it not time for you and your men to do something?!”
“My men are upstairs now,” Varcoe answered, pointing out the obvious, which only served to bring her to her feet.
“I am well aware that your men are pawing about my son’s room, Inspector, but I trust you will understand that it brings me little solace. I would presume them to be the same men who continue to allow my husband’s murderer to roam free.”
“I understand—”
“You understand nothing,” she hissed before he could finish his ill-conceived thought. “And you, Mr. Pendragon?” She snapped her eyes to him. “What have you to say for yourself?”
He held her gaze resolutely as he began to speak. “I will not hazard any further offenses by presuming what you are being forced to endure,” he said, earning an immediate scowl from Inspector Varcoe. “I do believe it could be greatly helpful, however, if you would answer just a few more questions.”
She pinched the corners of her eyes just above the bridge of her nose in an apparent effort to assuage some nettling pressure as she sat back down. “All right then,” she said after a moment, her tone as sharp and hard as the blade I’d had flashed at me by the Prussian hours ago. “Say your piece.”
I could see Colin struggling to achieve some measure of ease and knew it was not readily managed. “You must permit me to enter some uncomfortable territory—”
“It is the middle of the night and my son is missing, Mr. Pendragon. Please do not persist in patronizing me, for I will not sit here much longer.”
Colin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Perhaps you could tell me how William has been adjusting to the loss of his father?”
She looked at Colin with pique. “William is six and he is not sound. He has little understanding that his father is gone.”
“Has he been asking for him?”
“What is your point?”
“It is conceivable that he may have wandered off on his own. Perhaps in search of his father.”
“William never goes anywhere without his nurse. Not ever.” Her tone was harsh and unequivocal.
“He has never strayed off by himself? Or even tried?”
“His nurse is paid handsomely to watch him at all times, and if she is unavailable his sister keeps him close at hand. So no, Mr. Pendragon, he has had neither the opportunity nor the wherewithal to do such a thing.”
“No?” Colin’s eyebrows arched up and I wanted to signal him to stop this line of questioning. It was clear she would not tolerate much more.
As if to prove me right she narrowed her eyes while continuing to glare at him. “You met him. If you failed to notice the aberration of his behavior then I am truly a woman without hope.”
My breath caught in my throat and time seemed to stretch like soft taffy as not one of us moved. Mrs. Hutton’s words hung in the air between us, pointed, accusatory, demanding their due, but before I could collect myself to offer any sort of defense, Colin was already speaking. “I apologize if I have given you cause for concern regarding my abilities,” he said with perfect restraint. “Perhaps you would share with us what the doctors have told you about your son.”
“That he will never progress beyond the age of a child.” She spat the words out as though they burned her mouth. “He will never read or write or speak worth a damn. The kind of life, Mr. Pendragon, that will be best lived sealed away in an asylum. So I will ask you again, what does any of this have to do with finding him?!”
He ignored her question as he leaned forward. “Do you have any reason to believe your son’s disappearance could be connected to the death of your husband?”
She glared at Colin with an expression I could not decipher. The room had become chilled, as the fireplace had been allowed to die down, and I wondered that no servant had come to stoke it.
“William is as incapable of misdeed as he is of cohesive thought.” Her words were brutal and I could tell she was well done with us. “How could there be any such connection between that broken boy and the man his father was? Your suggestion is absurd. But then I suppose I should expect nothing less, given what little use you and your inspector have been.”
“Now, madam . . .” Varcoe started to say in an artificially conciliatory way as he rose to his feet.
“Do not trouble yourself, Inspector,” she shot back as she squared off at us. “I have withstood your bumbling to the point of extinction. I will do so no more. It is clear you cannot protect me and my daughter, so we shall not spend another night here even if you ring this wretched place with a thousand regiments.” She turned and swept to the door. “You and your men can finish what you will, but I’ll no longer be at your disposal. Anna and I are going to my sister’s in Paris as soon as I can make arrangements.” And with that she was gone.
“Shite!” Varcoe howled. “Won’t that just be ruddy perfect when Parliament finds out that our highest-taxed citizens are fleeing the city because they don’t feel safe. I’ll be lucky to investigate the bloody sewers once that gets out.” He started for the door only to stop when he realized that neither of us was following him. “Well, are you coming?”
“We’ll be along,” Colin said calmly. “I just can’t move as quickly tonight.” He shrugged as he pointed to his left thigh.
Varcoe scowled. “I’ll not have you squirming out of this case because of some bollocky injury you never should have received in the first place. If you’d fetched me first—”
“Yes, yes.” Colin waved him off. “I got what I deserved.”
Varcoe snarled his agreement as he turned and stalked from the room.
“This case is a muddle,” Colin said as he stood up with nary a wince. “What do you make of it all?”
“Me?” I gazed back at him, my thoughts a jumble of discordant confusion. “I have no idea. That poor woman.”
“Yes. . . .” He shook his head as we began to make our way to the door. “She has been through an enormous amount, I grant you that, but there is something that does not sit well with me. I almost prefer the hysterics of Mrs. Connicle.”
“You cannot compare how a person handles their grief,” I scolded.
He glanced back at me but said nothing, which proved to be the wisest choice, for when he turned back young Anna Hutton was standing in the doo
rway wrapped in a nightdress with a full-length pale yellow robe clutched tightly around her. “I don’t mean to intrude,” she said in a soft voice. Her face was ashen and drawn, and I wondered if anyone had given suitable attention to this poor girl.
“Not in the least,” Colin responded smoothly, waving her into the room as though it were his place to do so. “We’ve been talking about your brother. As you can imagine, we are most anxious to find him as quickly as possible.”
“I haven’t a good feeling,” she admitted as she perched on the edge of the sofa, her eyes sinking to the floor as her fingers fidgeted with her robe. “It’s not like William to wander away. He never goes anywhere without his nurse, unless he’s with me.” She managed a burdened sort of smile. “I’ve not seen him since he was put to bed.”
“Did you hear anything?” Colin asked as he knelt by her. “A cry or shout you thought he might have made in his sleep?”
“Nothing.” She stared directly at Colin. “Which frightens me even more, because William does not like people he’s not seen before. He wouldn’t walk out with just anyone.” Her eyes began to brim with tears as she dropped her gaze and girded herself to ask the question I knew had brought her down here in the first place. “Do you think he’s been hurt?”
Colin drew in a breath and shot a look at me, his discomfort evident in his eyes. I thought he meant for me to say something, but he spoke up almost at once. “Do you know of any reason why someone would want to hurt your little brother?”
“No, sir.” She shook her head as tears began to course down her cheeks. “He’s just a boy. A good boy. He’s never hurt anyone. He wouldn’t know how.” She rubbed the heel of her hand across her eyes before Colin could fish the handkerchief out of his pocket. “It’s not been easy for him,” she went on. “He hardly made a sound as a baby and my parents fretted that he would never learn to walk.” She looked up and there was great pride in her laden eyes. “I taught him how to do that. About a year ago. I knew he could do it. I knew he could learn. That’s when Father found the nurse. She’s been teaching him so much more ever since.”
“He’s very fortunate to have you for a sister.” Colin smiled and wiped her tears from one cheek. “You mustn’t cry, Anna. Until a thing is settled there is always hope.”
She gave him a crooked sort of smile. “Yes. Of course you’re right.” She looked at him for a moment and then, in a voice so fragile it was no more than the ghost of a whisper, asked, “Do you think someone will try to hurt me and Mum?”
Colin immediately drew her into a hug. “Mr. Pruitt and I . . .” He swept his arms wide. “. . . Indeed, the whole of Scotland Yard have you and your mother in our sights. There are men from the Yard here now and so they shall remain until we have brought an end to this case. You mustn’t be afraid, Anna.”
She managed a fragile smile.
“Now back to bed with you.” He stood up. “The brightest minds in this city are looking for your brother. You must hold that to your heart.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, and then scampered back across the foyer and up the stairs.
I turned to Colin and was startled to find him staring at me, his eyes as dark as the night sky, filled with immeasurable guilt and sorrow. And I suddenly recalled what the Prussian had bragged to his killer, how no one would ever find the little scruff. And in that instant, I knew what Colin was already certain of.
CHAPTER 35
Noah Tolliver had ceased to be a man of any real function months before we came to see him.
A carriage had whisked us the seven and a half miles out to Stratford to see Wynn Tessler’s senior bookkeeper, the man who had once handled the Connicle fortune, but it had been for naught. It was evident that Mr. Tessler was unaware of the depth of Mr. Tolliver’s condition, having told us only that the man had suffered a riding accident some months before and was at his country home recuperating. The truth of his condition was far more devastating.
His wife, a spare woman of middle years with the stature and movements of a hummingbird, showed us to a bedroom where he lay prone. She told us he had no feeling below the sternum and could only just move two fingers on his left hand. There was a gash in the front of his throat where a metal tube poked out, and I knew this to be an experimental procedure to assist him in breathing or for the administration of chloroform as necessary. He was not conscious during our brief visit, though whether this was due to chloroform I did not ask. It would have made little difference, as his wife eventually confided that he could neither talk nor recognize anyone. The blow to his head, she had been informed by a score of doctors, was debilitating and permanent.
Given our hostess’s frayed condition, we declined tea, leaving as quickly as was forgivable, having thankfully kept the carriage waiting. I felt quite undone by our visit and was aware that Colin had grown quiet. Neither of our collective moods was aided by a quick stop at Scotland Yard, where we learned that the only clue they’d yet found regarding William Hutton’s disappearance was traces of chloroform on his pillow. It was little to go on, though it proved the boy had not gone wandering off on his own.
And so it was that we finally returned home, our spirits as low as the dense, gray clouds that hung overhead. I worried about the scowl embedded on Colin’s face as the carriage came to a stop at our flat. “Would you like to go back to the Hutton estate after dinner?” I asked, thinking he might feel better to have a second look around.
“No,” he scoffed. “I’ve had quite enough for one day.” He let a sigh escape his lips as he took my hand. “And I don’t think I could face Anna again without some news about her poor brother.” Neither of us made any move to get out of the carriage. “I don’t really want to go back and start rooting about, you know? I’m afraid for what you overheard in that alley.” He shook his head, but not before I saw the heaviness in his eyes.
“You will settle this,” I said with the surety I felt as I squeezed his hand. “You mustn’t ever lose hope.”
He turned and gazed idly out the window. “I wish I had your faith.”
“I have enough for the both of us.”
“’Ey . . .” the driver’s voice bristled from outside, and I pulled free of Colin’s hand. “If you two blokes don’t get outta there I’m gonna ’ave ta charge for yer time.”
Colin climbed out without a word and trudged into our flat.
I paid the driver and hurried after Colin, finding him partway up the stairs with his gaze drooping morosely. “Do you smell that?” I said to his back as I shut the door.
He stopped and peered back at me. “What?”
“Earl Grey. Mrs. Behmoth is brewing tea. Do you suppose we have a visitor?”
He glanced up the stairs with a frown and then looked back at me. “But there was no carriage . . .” he started to say, but then his eyes lit with fire. “I’ll bet it’s Sundha Guitnu’s beau. What was his name?”
“Cillian.” I chuckled. “How is it you remember her name but not his?” Colin did not bother to answer, nor did he need to. Instead he turned and bolted the rest of the way up.
By the time I reached the landing it was to find both Cillian and Sunny seated before the fireplace on the settee, Colin poking the flames and commending them for having arrived precisely as agreed. For myself, I would have preferred a bit of time alone, but it was heartening to see the effect these two were having on Colin’s mood.
Not a moment later Mrs. Behmoth brought up a tray of tea and ginger biscuits and placed it on the table between us. Colin shooed her away as he settled into his chair and began the preparations himself. He fussed over each cup, putting in just enough milk after inquiring as to the lumps of sugar required. Sunny and Cillian gave rote answers, neither delivered with more than a kernel of enthusiasm, which made me suspicious of what decision they had arrived at concerning her father’s jewels.
“Biscuit?” Colin held out the plate with an enthusiastic smile. They shook their heads, further confirming my misgivings, though Colin
seemed quite oblivious as he happily popped one into his mouth.
“It feels like an occasion to have you both here together,” I piped up in hopes of relieving a bit of their tension, but as their eyes shifted to each other I decided I had only made it worse.
“You have both been very kind to us,” Cillian muttered as he reached for a pack on the floor by his feet. “Very fair. And we have talked at length about what you said, Mr. Pendragon. About what we should do.” He turned his eyes to Sunny, who instantly dropped her gaze, making me ever more uneasy as to what she and Cillian were about to say, especially given that he’d begun rooting around in his pack.
“What have you there?” Colin asked. Cillian abruptly slid the entire thing over to him and Colin leaned forward to peer inside. “Exquisite,” he marveled as he reached inside and pulled out a single diamond bracelet, turning it around just inches from one eye. He immediately stuck his other hand in and came out with a strand of ivory pearls and two gold necklaces studded with sapphires. “Extraordinary.”
“My father takes great pride in what he creates,” Sundha said in a near whisper.
“Yes.” Colin fingered the sapphires on the second necklace as he handed the other two items over to me. “That is evident.”
“He makes pieces for all the finest families,” she pressed on, though with no less timidity. “Even for the royal house.”
“But of course.” Colin chuckled. “Our modest Queen has always had an eye for the best baubles.” He plunged his hand back into the bag and came out with a small cloth pouch from which he poured a veritable stream of loose diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds onto the tea tray between us. “Oh my,” he tsked. “No wonder your father noticed something amiss. It would appear you have been most indiscreet.”
“It’s all there!” Cillian snapped defiantly. “Every last bit of it. We didn’t sell anything. Not one stone.”
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