Heartless (Scarlet Suffragette, Book 3): A Victorian Historical Romantic Suspense Series

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Heartless (Scarlet Suffragette, Book 3): A Victorian Historical Romantic Suspense Series Page 5

by Nicola Claire


  “You believe Eliza May wielded the thing?”

  “No. But she will have orchestrated it. Perhaps even designed it.”

  “Could she have brought it with her? From the Dutch East Indies?”

  He returned the medical report to the board and stepped back.

  “My wife has travelled extensively; she could have brought the device with her from any number of locations. But we must attempt to find a manufacturer here in the city before we dismiss that avenue of inquiry.”

  “Of course.”

  I bit my lip and studied the board.

  “Where could she be hiding?” I murmured, the thought not meant to be voiced aloud.

  “Anywhere and everywhere,” Andrew muttered in disgust. “We’re keeping an eye on the street urchins and telegraph boys. Her usual purview.”

  “Have there been any developments within the city that can be attributed to her? Perhaps a new establishment or evidence of crimes escalating?”

  “Nothing at all. Chalmers has had a quiet time of it, which does not bode well for my returning here.” He offered a small smile. “I bring the blood with me, he says.”

  “He blames you for the murders?” I was immediately angered on his behalf. Superintendent Chalmers had always been one to bluster and blow, but he’d also been an astute police officer. At least, he had been when my father had been alive.

  Andrew only offered up a grunt in reply.

  I ran my gloved finger along the lower edge of the board. “I hear Drummond is back.” I did not look Andrew in the eye.

  “You hear correctly.”

  “Dr Yates was put out.”

  “You’ve spoken with the man?” He seemed genuinely interested.

  “No. Mrs Elizabeth Yates. His brother’s wife.”

  “Ah, yes, you mentioned she was a suffragette.” He studied me. “Was it she who asked you to step down?”

  I nodded.

  “Perhaps if we catch the culprit, you may return to your suffrage efforts.”

  “If this is your wife’s doing, and we have not yet located her, I do not think this will be solved in time.”

  “The elections,” he guessed.

  “Mere months away and the franchise is even closer than that.”

  “You have done well, Anna,” he murmured. “You deserve this.”

  I blinked away the tears.

  “What else is afoot?” I asked brightly, studying the board again.

  “Edmund Reid’s man Elliott is here.”

  I spun to face him. “Here? In Auckland? Why?”

  His face softened at my obvious pique. He smiled.

  “He follows the trail of blood, my love.”

  Oh, Andrew. Reid followed him. The fact he had not come himself was irrelevant. I knew of Sergeant Elliott. I had made his acquaintance, brief as it was, in London.

  What was the inspector playing at?

  “I see,” I said.

  Andrew said nothing, perhaps realising his mistake in using such an endearment with me. He cleared his throat.

  “It is late, Anna. I shall escort you home.”

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  I’d outstayed my welcome.

  “Have the men been identified?” I asked as I crossed to the door of his barracks.

  “Transient labourers. The first body was found in an alley between a shipyard and sawmill in Freemans Bay.”

  “Not far from Franklin Street, then?”

  “Indeed. However, a cart or carriage would have been used to transport the second body to your surgery.”

  “Would there have been time to take my tools and return them to the murder scene?”

  “Perhaps. The body was cold when found, and the streets empty at that hour. If the vehicle moved quickly, it could have been accomplished.”

  The alternative was the tools had been taken prior to the deaths. It seemed a stretch to believe the killer had time. I would not comment, however, on the forethought needed; we all knew of what could be accomplished by Eliza May. Nevertheless, I had not been in my surgery since the previous evening. It was plausible the tools were taken earlier than the murderer perpetrated his crime.

  “Will she strike again?” I asked as we stepped out into the night.

  “Undoubtedly,” Andrew said pulling the door shut behind him and locking it tightly.

  Andrew had already been subjected to one housebreaking. Ethel Poynton had used Drummond’s police barracks’ key to gain entrance. I wondered if Andrew had changed the locks since then. I wondered if Eliza May would use alternate methods to gain access.

  Did she even need to? She knew her husband’s mind well. She could do much damage without further ammunition.

  “We’ll hail a hansom on Queen Street,” Andrew said.

  I nodded and tucked my parasol close, keeping my body warm as we walked through the park towards the centre of the city.

  We’d managed only a few paces in companionable silence when the clatter of horses hooves and the squeak of a buggy sounded.

  Andrew let out a wretched sigh.

  “Ho!” the driver called out. “Who goes there?”

  “At ease, Sergeant,” Andrew called out.

  “Inspector? I was just on my way to you,” Blackmore replied.

  The curricle came into view, and Sergeant Blackmore peered down at us, a broad grin stretching his mouth wide.

  “Well, well, well,” he said and tipped his hat to me. “Dr Cassidy. This is a surprise.”

  The dryness of his tone was not lost on me, but Andrew drew himself up to full height and barked, “I’ll have none of that here, Sergeant. Or I will have your position and see you out.”

  I stared at Andrew in not just a little shock. His reaction to the sergeant’s gentle teasing - teasing which Blackie had done many times before now - was unexpected.

  Blackie sobered and ducked his head.

  “Right you are, sir,” he said, sounding contrite.

  Something was amiss between the two men. I studied Andrew’s wary look and Blackmore’s puzzled frown and stepped between them.

  “Good evening, Sergeant,” I said.

  “Good evening, Doctor,” he murmured.

  “It is a nice evening for a buggy ride,” I offered.

  “I’m not ‘ere for a calling, miss,” Blackmore replied.

  “Then why are you here, Sergeant?” Andrew demanded.

  I threw him a narrowed-eyed look in reprimand. The man was being unreasonable.

  He ignored me and focused solely on Blackmore; his hands fisted tightly about his cane as if he aimed to wield it.

  Blackmore met the inspector’s eyes. “There’s been another one, sir.”

  “Murder?” I whispered, suddenly thinking of more dire things than Andrew’s and Blackmore’s falling out.

  “Aye, miss,” Blackie said. “Same as afore.”

  Andrew bit out a curse and moved toward me. Gripping my elbow, he helped me up into the curricle beside the sergeant and said, “Take the doctor home. I’ll meet you at the station.”

  “We can all fit,” I said, indicating the space beside me.

  “That would not be seemly,” Andrew snapped.

  I blinked at him. His manner was quite disagreeable.

  “Perhaps I can assist at the scene of the crime,” I added.

  “Dr Drummond has been called, miss,” Blackie replied.

  “He’ll take his time getting there,” I argued.

  “He was already on his way when I came for the inspector.”

  “Marriage must be agreeing with him,” I muttered.

  “Something is, miss. I ain’t seen him corned yet.”

  “Blackmore,” Andrew warned.

  “Sir,” Blackie ducked his head again.

  “What is the matter with you two?” I demanded. “You’re behaving strangely toward one another.”

  “’Tis nothing,” Andrew said as Blackmore offered, “Him not me, miss.”

  I stared at Blackie and then turned m
y gaze on Andrew, brow arched.

  “Anna,” he said, teeth gritted. “We have a crime to attend. The Sergeant will see you home.”

  “Nonsense,” I said. “Where is the murder scene, Sergeant?”

  Blackie smiled. “On the way to Franklin Street, Doctor. Why, we’ll pass right by it, we will.”

  “Enough!” Andrew said, pulling himself up into the curricle and settling in beside me.

  It was a tight fit. I could feel the sergeant’s muscled forearm as he flicked the reins. But I was too focused on Andrew’s heat on my other side. He shifted, as far as he could manage into the corner of the buggy. I moved with him because I was angry.

  Andrew’s head turned, and he looked down at me. I offed a tight-lipped smile. He shook his head and relaxed slightly.

  Disagreeable man.

  The Northern Club was not far from Albert Park, and in fact, overlooked the old barracks. Saying it was on the way to Franklin Street was a bit of a stretch, but Sergeant Blackmore did not look in the slightest guilty for his misdirection. Andrew gritted his teeth when the three-storied masonry façade came into view. Carriages were lined up at the front entrance; some of which would have done well in Hyde Park.

  Lamplight glowed from the multitude of windows, a soft golden beam landing on the stairs that led up to the imposing entrance. The building was by far one of the finest in the city and currently home to The Northern Club; a gentleman’s club consisting of prominent professionals and businessmen of the day.

  My presence would not be welcome.

  “Good God, man,” Andrew muttered to Blackie as he stepped down from the buggy. “You bring the good doctor here?”

  “I can ferry her home, sir, if that’s to your liking.”

  “Not necessary,” I said, following behind Andrew and coming to rest on the path before the striking structure. “We’re here now. Let’s make haste.”

  Andrew shot Blackmore a disgruntled look and offered me his arm. I placed my parasol in my right hand, and slipped my left into place, smiling benignly up at him.

  “You are incorrigible, Dr Cassidy,” he whispered.

  “If I am to be blamed for this one too, I should like to actually see the scene of the crime.”

  Andrew huffed out a breath and stepped up to the entrance, raising his cane to bang on the door.

  Blackmore, I noticed, hung back.

  “Is the sergeant not accompanying us?” I enquired.

  “He will make sure none leave before I have a chance to question them.”

  “You work well together,” I commented.

  “Don’t, Anna,” Andrew murmured just as the door was opened and a liveried man stared down his nose at us.

  “And you are?” he asked.

  “Inspector Kelly of the Auckland Police Force and Dr Cassidy of Franklin Street.”

  The man ignored me and focused on Andrew. “We already have one on scene, sir. I doubt we require another.”

  “Another…?” Andrew began.

  “Kelly,” a familiar voice announced. “About time you got here.”

  Detective Sergeant Elliott of the Leman Street Police Station in Whitechapel peered around the hawk-nosed gatekeeper and smirked.

  “Ah, and you brought the doctor. Splendid!” He slapped his hand on the shoulder of the footman and said, “Let them in, man! This should be fun!”

  I spared a quick glance at Andrew; his lips were turned down in a scowl.

  How had Elliott been apprised of the murder before Andrew had?

  Why was he here now?

  But it was far worse than that because when we entered the room where the body lay, there was more than just Elliott to waylay us.

  Dr John Drummond was crouched over the supine form as Superintendent Chalmers paced agitatedly beside him.

  “Damnation,” Andrew muttered.

  “Told you it’d be fun,” Elliott said and grinned widely.

  Did She Succeed, Sir?

  Inspector Kelly

  My eyes scanned the room with the intention of finding a place to hide Dr Cassidy. A ridiculous thought that was immediately dismissed as soon as Ian Chalmers’ hard eyes landed on Anna. His cheeks reddened, his whiskers twitched, the bulk of his body seemed to enlarge somewhat and then he turned a flinty gaze on me.

  “What is this? You bring a woman into The Northern?” he growled.

  “And not just any woman,” Drummond added from his crouched position beside the body.

  “Indeed,” Chalmers huffed. “Get her out of here!”

  “Dr Cassidy was with me when the sergeant delivered his message.”

  “In your barracks, no doubt, like any doxy would be,” Drummond muttered.

  I took a step forward, my cane fisted in my hand, my blood boiling.

  “You will…”

  “If you threaten my physician, Kelly,” Chalmers said in a low voice, “I’ll have you locked in a cell.”

  “I beg your pardon?” I asked, stunned.

  “It’s bad enough that half the Force knows of your gal-sneaker ways. But to bring the object of your affections to a murder scene at a gentleman’s club is beyond the pale. What will it be next?”

  He turned on Anna then; his eyes narrowing and his ruddy cheeks darkening further.

  “And you, young lady! What would your father say? What would society say to see you here of all places?”

  “That she’d look well in a government jacket and letters on the back,” Drummond murmured.

  For a sickening moment, I did nothing; so disturbed by the tone of the conversation and the insults slung at Anna. For a heart-sickening moment, I stood there and said not a word.

  And then my fist was flying and my knuckles connected with the side of John Drummond’s head.

  Chalmers blew his whistle. Drummond found his feet and swung back. Anna let out a startled sound. On the periphery of my vision, I saw the superintendent grip her by the arm and drag her out of the room, her steps harried and imbalanced. Bobbies rushed in, billy clubs flying. Chalmers snapped out an order over his shoulder to detain me.

  The men hesitated. My eyes connected with Elliott’s over the top of a still swinging Drummond. He shook his head slowly at me.

  I would not win this fight and Chalmers had Anna.

  I let Drummond land his last belly-punch, and stepped back, bent over slightly, for the bobbies.

  “See to Anna, William,” I rasped, “if you have an ounce of compassion in you.”

  He nodded his head and stepped out of the room. Then the bobbies cuffed me as Drummond, face bruised and eyes wild, drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood and sweat from his eyes.

  “You are a danger to yourself and everyone around you, Andrew Kelly,” he snarled. “And your days in Auckland lording over the rest of us are numbered. I’ll see you on a steamer to England if it’s the last thing I do.”

  I said nothing. If I spoke, I was likely to start him swinging again and with no avenue of recourse, I deferred to my better judgement.

  Just as my escort and I made the door to the room, Drummond added, “She’ll lose her license to treat. She’ll lose her home and surgery. She’ll have to sell herself as her mother did and then she really will be a doxy. Think you then what jacket she’ll wear.” He laughed, it sounded vile; dark and threatening. “I hear there is a bed free in Ethel Poynton’s cell at Mount Eden Gaol.”

  “Stay away from Anna,” I growled.

  He only laughed at me.

  Turning on my heel and offering the only dismissal I could, trussed up as I was, I marched out of the building, past the superior gaze of the footman, and out into the night where Chalmers awaited. Blackie stood at his side, appearing agitated. His eyes darted from the superintendent to me and back again. His fists were bunched at his sides as if he wanted to take a swing at his commanding officer.

  I shook my head slightly when I caught his gaze. He’d seen Anna dragged out of the establishment; his reaction made sense. At least, it would hav
e if he hadn’t been fouled by Eliza May.

  Was this the Blackie I could trust? Or was this an act to gain my trust once more? A directive given by Eliza May?

  She was winning, I realised. Not in the continued deaths of so many people. But in the insidious way she subverted all those around me and even subverted my own thoughts. How could I fight an opponent who refused to show her face? How could I rise above the filth she tarred me with and breathe fresh air again?

  How could I keep Anna safe?

  Chalmers nodded at the bobbies and they stepped away. Far enough to not overhear what words would next be spoken, but close enough to come running should I try to escape. I was cuffed. My arms chained behind my back. My cane forgotten on the floor of the room where the body lay. I was in no fit state to make a run for it. Nor would I have.

  I stared at Chalmers and said, “He was out of line.”

  “You were out of line, Inspector,” he snapped. Then he shook his head as if disappointed in me and looked away.

  I met Blackie’s gaze. “Did Inspector Elliott accompany Dr Cassidy?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir. He implied he’d not let harm come to the lady.”

  “You do realise, Kelly,” Chalmers said softly, “that you are to blame.”

  I turned so I could face the superintendent with what little dignity I had left.

  “I am aware I should not have brought Dr Cassidy into the club, sir.”

  “Not that,” he said dismissively. “Although, that did not help your case. No. You have corrupted her. You have encouraged her when the woman needs a firm hand and strong words. Thomas asked you to watch over her, did he not?”

  I swallowed thickly.

  “Yes, he did, didn’t he?” Chalmers sighed. “I cannot blame you for being enchanted. She is a singular woman. She is Thomas’ protégé after all, and you were ever Thomas Cassidy’s man. However, you have forgotten yourself, sir, and she has bewitched you. I have seen it before, of course; good men brought low by their women. Had you not a previous agreement, I would suggest you marry the gal and be done with it. Take her to hand and see her put to rights. But you are not in a position to do as such, are you, Inspector?”

 

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