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Murder in the East End

Page 18

by Jennifer Ashley


  She smiled so broadly at me that I flushed, uncomfortable. “You cannot mean me.”

  “I can.” Miss Townsend nodded. “His Paris sojourn was a few years ago. He told me, when he was awkwardly explaining that we were together for the purposes of catching the villains and nothing more, that he was loyal to a woman in London. One, he said, with beautiful eyes. When I pressed him for details, he laughed and told me you were a cook. Though that was too small a word for you, he said. You were an amazing woman who cooked like an angel, too good to be stuffed into a hot, tiny kitchen.”

  “Oh.” This must have been soon after he’d met me, when I’d worked for Mrs. Pauling. That kitchen had been cramped, and Daniel had seen me for the first time in the miniscule cubby, and smiled at me.

  “Did he put you up to telling me this?” I asked. “He knows I am unhappy with him.”

  “Indeed, no. I saw your misgivings, and I wanted to assuage them. As I say, McAdam was officially sworn to secrecy—dire things heaped upon his head if he breaks that faith, and so forth. But I was not.”

  “Poor Daniel,” I said. “I must sometimes be a trial to him.”

  “I doubt that very much.” Miss Townsend had a pleasant laugh. “He feels it keenly, I think, that he must keep things from you. He hadn’t met you yet when he started working for the men he does, and I think he regrets it now.”

  “Who does he work for?” I thought of the spectacled man with cold eyes. “The police, I know, but what part of the police?”

  Alas, Miss Townsend shook her head. “I have no idea. He asked for my help in Paris because I am an Englishwoman, I knew the people whose soirees he needed to attend, and he found me trustworthy. Easy for me to pretend I’d married a handsome nobody, to the despair of my family and friends.”

  “What did your family and friends say to that?” I asked in true curiosity. “I imagine someone told them.”

  “They don’t pay much attention to what I get up to. By the time they got word, it was over, and they decided me pretending to be married was just one more madcap thing I would do. An artist is expected to be eccentric.” She spoke lightly, but I saw a flash of anger in her eyes, which she quickly hid.

  “Thank you for explaining,” I said. “It was kind of you.”

  “Not at all. I noticed your discomfort, and I saw that you are not the sort to pry—at least, not about something concerning your own life.”

  I suppose that was true.

  She’d given me much to think about. I thanked her again, and we returned to the kitchen and to our respective tasks.

  * * *

  * * *

  After my adventure yesterday, I was content to pay my visit to Grace and stay with her the entire day. I visited with Mrs. Millburn for a time—Jane and Grace had a holiday from lessons while I was there, and the two girls played games together, giggling and arguing and giggling again, like true sisters.

  Grace and I then went out for tea, as we liked to, she asking me all about what I’d done since Monday. I did not like to worry her, so I kept what had happened at the prison to myself, though I did tell her about poor Bessie and her chap, and how they sent messages by way of the guard.

  I kept Grace close to me while we walked from tea shop to St. Paul’s to stroll in the churchyard there, gazing up at the magnificent building. Cynthia’s talk of predators had unnerved me greatly, and I imagined eyes on my child as we strolled along. I hated to part from her, but I knew the Millburns were diligent people and would keep her safe.

  I returned home in time to prepare the evening meal as usual. Tonight the Bywaters had invited two gentlemen who worked with Mr. Bywater in the City. More suitors for Lady Cynthia, I assumed, and hoped another row did not ensue.

  I gave them cod in cream and butter sauce, a stuffed veal roast, a fresh green salad with plenty of Miss Townsend’s herbs, slices of ham, rhubarb tartlets, Tess’s cauliflower with mushrooms and dill, and finished with my apple tarts served with cream, and a vanilla custard with raspberry jam.

  The staff ate the leftovers, and I put my share into a basket.

  Tess was busy shoveling in her supper when I breezed out. She only gave me a nod and wink, thinking she knew where I was going.

  Her guess would have been wrong. I paused on the street to give the beggars there some scraps, then I walked to Regent Street and Mr. Thanos’s flat.

  Mr. Thanos was home, but not in bed. He opened his door himself, dressed in a comfortable jacket and slippers, indicating he’d intended to spend the evening indoors.

  “Mrs. Holloway!” He beamed in genuine delight. “How wonderful to see you. Is, er . . .” He peered past me. “That is, are you alone?”

  “Lady Cynthia did not accompany me, no.” I moved past him into the front room. “I hope you are not too disappointed.”

  “Not at all. That is . . . I am always glad to see you, Mrs. Holloway.”

  I chuckled and set the basket on his table. “I quite understand, Mr. Thanos. You are a man with a warm heart. Lady Cynthia has sought refuge with Lady Roberta and Miss Townsend this evening after spending a meal with her family. She was understandably upset by the conversations you had with the Woolners yesterday.”

  Mr. Thanos lost his smile. “They were horrible people. I wrote a letter to the governors of the Foundling Hospital about them, begging them to refuse to admit them again. I told McAdam of this, and he went straight to the police.”

  “Good.” I relaxed. While I’d planned to speak to Inspector McGregor myself, he’d pay more attention to Daniel than to me. “But we are no closer to finding the children.”

  “But if the Woolners know others like themselves . . .”

  “Indeed. I hope Inspector McGregor interrogates them. He is very good at interrogation.”

  “Their actions will have to be proved,” Mr. Thanos warned. “Even for McGregor to question them, there must be some evidence.”

  “Yes, but it is a beginning. Inspector McGregor follows the rules, but he is not intimidated by them. And Daniel follows no rules but his own.”

  “That is true, very true. It gives me hope.”

  I unpacked the basket for him, and Mr. Thanos exuded gratitude. I suddenly wished I could cook for him always—he was so pleased with my efforts and also interested in the contents and preparation of each dish.

  He invited me to join him, as I had brought plenty, but I was not much hungry tonight, and let Mr. Thanos indulge. He praised the cauliflower with mushrooms and dill, and I explained how Miss Townsend had gifted me with a box of herbs. I’d make plenty of sauces with them before they wilted, and then I’d dry the remainder, keeping me well stocked into summer.

  As Mr. Thanos ate, I asked about his new position at the Polytechnic.

  “It’s rather strange,” he said, enjoying the last bites of apple tart. “The Polytechnic, as it had been, is dissolved. Funds depleted. A pity, because so much was developed there. Photography came into its own through the Poly. And many prominent scientists have gone through its doors. But it is difficult to make people understand the importance of science, especially for practical purposes.”

  “I suppose that is true,” I conceded. “If it has dissolved, then how are you to teach?”

  “Well, another man, a chap called Quentin Hogg, has bought the building, and intends to start things up again. He’s a philanthropist and wants to provide education for poor young men with good minds. I’ve never met him, but the fellow who recruited me, Sir Arthur Maddox, is quite rich. I will begin teaching sometime next year, I believe.”

  “Meanwhile, they’ll put you up here?”

  “Indeed.”

  Very generous. And slightly odd, but Mr. Thanos, who believed in the good in everyone, likely hadn’t questioned his fortune. This flat was much more elegant and comfortable than the one he’d inhabited near the British Museum, from what James had told me, a
nd I too would have been loath to turn down fine new lodgings.

  I was packing the basket and preparing to leave when a knock came at the door.

  “I am popular this evening,” Mr. Thanos said. “Ah, speak of the devil and he shall appear.”

  The visitor was Daniel. Behind him came Mr. Fielding. Neither man looked happy. Though they tried to tame their expressions when they beheld me, I could see that an eruption was imminent.

  18

  Kat.” Daniel stopped in his tracks, clearly taken aback to find me here.

  “Mrs. Holloway,” Mr. Fielding said in a more deferential tone. “What a pleasant happenstance.”

  Mr. Fielding tonight did not wear his clergyman’s collar. His suit was what I’d call nondescript brown, and he pulled off a cap similar to the one Daniel hung up on Mr. Thanos’s coatrack.

  “I’m afraid I ate all the food,” Mr. Thanos said in his breathless way. “Sit down, do.”

  “A pity.” Mr. Fielding warmed his hands at the fire and then planted himself on a chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I would have loved to sample some of Mrs. Holloway’s fare.”

  Daniel shot a glance at me, and I returned it calmly. After we’d gazed at each other a time, Daniel gestured me to a plush armchair then pulled a chair from the table to sit next to me.

  “I came to report that I spoke to the police about the Woolners,” Daniel said to Mr. Thanos. “Inspector McGregor is not in the office that investigates such things, but . . . he took an interest. That means he will pester the inspectors in charge of looking into immoral acts until they take steps against Mr. and Mrs. Woolner.”

  “Good,” Mr. Thanos said, relieved.

  Mr. Fielding sent Daniel a look of approval. “Disgusting creatures. Want to take a cricket bat to them.” He looked thoughtful. “Hmm, I could always invite them to my church to discuss mustering a team. Have the equipment handy . . .”

  “I have faith in the inspector,” Daniel said. “Though he might borrow your cricket bat.”

  “Please tell me what happens,” I broke in. “Even if the police can do nothing, I might be able to.”

  Mr. Fielding raised his brows at me. “How? I believe in your prowess, good lady, but not your fists.”

  “You misunderstand.” I closed said fists on my lap. “I will not have to use violence. I would speak to their servants, and their neighbors’ servants, and those employed by the Woolners’ more respectable friends. Rumor and tales can do much damage. I believe in discretion most of the time, but there are exceptions.”

  Mr. Fielding stared at me a moment before he burst out laughing. “Excellent. Between Daniel’s inspector and Mrs. Holloway’s claque of servants, these monsters will not hold up their heads long.”

  A crime might have to be proved in a court of law, as Mr. Thanos pointed out, but the pillory of public opinion worked swiftly.

  “This is all very well,” I said, “but still does not help us find the children.”

  “As to that.” Daniel threw me a hesitant look. “I have James installed in the Foundling Hospital, as an odd-jobs boy. He is keeping a sharp eye out.”

  He was correct to worry about my reaction. “Are you mad?” I asked in alarm. “He could be hurt if he’s caught nosing about, or worse.”

  “James is no fool and good at dissembling,” Daniel said. “Believe me, Kat, I pondered a long time before deciding to let him do this.” He winced. “Let is the wrong word. James insisted on going, whether I approved or not.”

  I believed him. Daniel did not have the control over James he would have liked.

  “I have my own spy in Bessie,” I said. “One of the maids there. But she supposed the children were gone legitimately.”

  I explained about the children’s things being packed up and the housekeeper for Bessie’s ward claiming the children had been sent off, nothing mysterious about it. The housekeeper might have been told such things herself, for all I knew. We would have to discover where the lies originated.

  “A clever person would make it look as though nothing sordid had happened,” Mr. Fielding offered.

  “They’d have to corrupt a good number of people at the Hospital in that case,” I said.

  “And why not?” Mr. Fielding flashed a scowl. He was in a bad temper this evening. “I think the whole lot of them are corrupt.”

  The odds of every single governor, housekeeper, matron, and maid being corrupt were long, but I understood his point. Anyone employed at the Hospital was in a prime position to give children over to misery in exchange for a fee. It made my blood boil.

  “The children could have been sent away for legitimate reasons,” Daniel said, though his voice held great skepticism. “Though what those reasons are, I could not guess.”

  “Then why give me false addresses?” Fielding growled. “No, there is evil at work. You know it, Daniel. Or at least, you used to be able to sense it.”

  Before Daniel could retort, Mr. Thanos sat forward. “We can check the addresses—discover whether something around those places is suspicious.”

  “Which I did,” Mr. Fielding said. “I found nothing.”

  “As did I,” I said. When the three gentlemen broke off and gazed at me in amazed consternation, I went on. “I was curious, so I had a butcher’s. That means a look, Mr. Thanos. It was as Mr. Fielding said. On one street, the numbers did not exist. On the other, near Seven Dials, a new building was going up, a brewery. The workers around it chased me off.”

  Daniel sent me a sharp look. “You haven’t mentioned this.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to speak to you since, have I?” I asked. “What with explosions and prisoners being broken out, and me having to get supper for the Bywaters and endless guests brought to gaze at Lady Cynthia.”

  “What precisely happened at this building site?” Daniel asked me, his voice deceptively calm.

  “I’ve just told you. The builders grew incensed at me for gazing at the scaffolding and ran me off. Sent me scuttling down a lane straight to Seven Dials, which was their intention. A barmaid told me the largest man was called Luke Mahoney.”

  The name was Irish, and I waited for a flicker of recognition in Daniel’s eyes. None came. “Never heard of him. But I can’t know every villain in London. There are too damned many.”

  Mr. Fielding snorted a laugh. “That’s the truth.”

  I decided to keep to myself that Luke and his friends had manhandled and terrorized me. Daniel, and indeed Mr. Thanos, might want to rush out and confront them, and that was not my intention. Luke was huge and belligerent, and who knew how many like himself he could summon? Villains from Seven Dials were not to be taken lightly.

  “Whatever their purpose, they certainly did not want me to continue toward St. Martin’s Lane,” I said. “Were they simply entertaining themselves, or was there something they did not wish me to see? I have not had opportunity to return and look.”

  “Nor will you,” Daniel said in a hard voice. “I will take over investigating that point.”

  “And me,” Mr. Fielding added. “Worry not, Mrs. Holloway. No one will notice us. We were ever good at blending in and finding things out.”

  “Not if you continue to glare at each other as you have been doing,” I said. “You will stand out a mile, not to mention pay little attention to what is around you. I hope you plan to cool off before you go.”

  Mr. Fielding uncrossed his ankles and sat up on the edge of his chair. “The matter is easily solved. If Daniel throws in with my plan, we’ll be great friends again.”

  “Not the place to discuss it,” Daniel said, tight-lipped.

  “I believe this an excellent place. Mrs. Holloway and Mr. Thanos can judge. Yes?” Mr. Fielding included both of us in the statement, but his gaze rested on me alone.

  “No,” Daniel returned.

  Mr. Fielding ignored
him. “I’ve come across a man who knew our father, Carter, in the old days. And all his enemies, including one called Naismith.”

  Daniel had told me about Mr. Naismith—he believed Mr. Naismith responsible for the murder of Mr. Carter. Daniel had been trying to get close to Mr. Naismith since a man called Pilcher, a foul specimen, had admitted to working for him.

  “And you believe this man you’ve met can help you find out whether Mr. Naismith ordered the attack on Mr. Carter?” I asked.

  “You have grasped the idea. Daniel seems reluctant.”

  “Because he will only help for a price,” Daniel said in a hard voice. “This gent wants our loyalty. He not only knows about Naismith, but is Naismith’s enemy. He’ll say anything to gain more soldiers on his side.”

  “Not soldiers,” Mr. Fielding said quickly. “He is not asking us to fight battles.”

  Daniel threw him a dark look. “He will ensnare you until you are doing what he likes, when he likes. All in return for the dubious ability to help us prove Naismith fomented a raid twenty-five years ago.”

  “This is closer than we’ve ever come, Danny, my boy. I’d think you’d rush to the man with open arms.”

  “Daniel is prudent,” I ventured. I also wondered if Daniel hesitated because of the jobs he did for the police. He could hardly take up associating with a criminal without Scotland Yard objecting. The bespectacled man’s cold gaze told me he’d not be very forgiving.

  “Prudent to the point of prissiness,” Mr. Fielding said in derision. “My brother used to rush in where angels feared to tread. How the mighty have fallen.”

  “Exactly,” Daniel said. “I learned prudence from the many times I nearly had all my limbs pulled off for my bravado. I will bide my time.”

  “Very well. I will tell this man I could not convince you. No matter. I’ll find out what he knows by myself.”

 

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