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

by Nicola Claire

  What did that make me?

  I slept fitfully and rose with the sun. Hardwick had the hearth alight in my surgery and on this morn, there was no grisly cadaver waiting for my attention. Had the murdering stopped?

  I contemplated my options as I went about my chores for the day. Patients came and went. The sun rose higher. Mina took her afternoon tea in the garden.

  And when Sergeant Blackmore appeared for his customary visit with my cousin, I waylaid him.

  If the mountain would not come to Mohamed…

  “Sergeant,” I said as I stepped onto the path behind him; he had not yet made it to the back garden and Mina. He paused, his hulking form hunched slightly, and then he straightened his back and turned to face me, hat doffed in greeting.

  “Doctor Cassidy,” he said.

  “How wonderful to see you,” I offered.

  “It is?”

  “Certainly! Just the man I wished to see.”

  “I am?” His tone was doubtful.

  “Must you be so surprised? We are friends, are we not?”

  “Er…” he managed.

  I decided to put the poor man out of his misery.

  “What say you of the murder last night?”

  “Ah,” he said in understanding. “I’m none too sure if I should say a thing.”

  “Nonsense. This is us. Do we not do this, Sergeant? I press you. You make Andrew’s life a little more lively by answering.”

  “Lively,” he said and laughed. “Aye, that I do.” And then his face sobered.

  I stepped closer and placed a hand on his arm.

  “What is it? What has caused this rift between the two of you?”

  “I cannot say.”

  “Cannot or will not?”

  “Cannot, Doctor. I know not what I ‘ave done to cause his disdain.”

  He looked wretched for the knowledge of it. My heart ached. What the dickens was Andrew playing at? I could only think of one suitable explanation.

  “Eliza May,” I muttered.

  “What’s that then, miss?”

  “This is Eliza May’s doing; I am certain of it.”

  “I am not so sure, Doctor. This began well before her appearance in Auckland City.”

  “When?” I asked. “When did this strain between you begin?”

  He looked at me for a moment and then sighed. “On the steamer, miss. It started not long after we left London Town. I’ve wracked me brain for a reason but come up with naught. I ‘ave offended him in some way and cannot seem to make amends.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “You have not offended him, Blackie.” His lips twitched at my use of his nickname. “I believe I know of what has transpired.”

  I bit my lip in consternation. What had that letter Andrew had read onboard the steamer held within it?

  I looked at the sergeant. Would that I could read minds, but my skills lay in a much more mundane way.

  “The murder,” I said. “The same device was used, was it not?”

  He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his crooked face.

  “Aye, miss, it was an’ all.”

  “Have you had success in locating its origin?”

  “Not as yet, Dr Cassidy. But we are searching.”

  “Where, may I ask?”

  He studied me. “You’d do well not follow the clues. ’Tis not fitting for you to go where the trail leads us.”

  “And it leads you where, Sergeant?” I was nothing if not determined.

  “I cannot say.”

  “Cannot or will not?”

  “Will not. Please, Doctor. I am on the outs with the man as is; I should not wish to be cut completely.”

  He feared Andrew’s wrath should the inspector hear of what Blackmore was telling me. I could not blame him, but frustration made me bolder.

  “There is no connection between the victims,” I said. He said nothing. “It was the location, wasn’t it, Sergeant?”

  He muttered a few choice curses under his breath.

  “He will ‘ave me guts for garters; he will, miss. Why must you push this so?”

  “Because she is pushing this. She places a wedge between you and the inspector. She does the same to him and me, also. Can you not see we are in this together, Sergeant?”

  “I see no such thing, Dr Cassidy.”

  I let out an annoyed breath of air. What more could I do? What more could I say?

  “Inspector Elliott is here for Eliza May on Reid’s orders,” I said. “But should he fail to catch her, he will settle for Andrew.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “He said as much.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Certain of it. Blackie, we must protect him.”

  “I would lay down me life for the inspector, Doctor. He ‘as done it a time or two for me. But I cannot see a way past his grievances.”

  “Then I shall confront him on your behalf.”

  “I do not think that wise.”

  “Oh,” I said, straightening the cuffs of my jacket. “Don’t worry about me, Sergeant. I am quite adept at getting my way on occasion.”

  “’Tis not you I’m worried about, miss.”

  I blinked at him; nonplussed.

  He sighed, scratched at his hair under his hat and said, “Garters, miss.” As if that explained everything.

  I let out a burst of laughter. Blackie offered me a crooked grin.

  “She is watching the barracks,” he said a moment later, his face solemn.

  “I thought as much.”

  “If you ask me, miss, you think a little too much.”

  “Blackie!” I admonished. “How can you say such a thing? If it weren’t for my brain, where would I be?”

  “Married?” he replied dryly.

  “Exactly!” I said on a huff.

  He took a long moment to look at me and then he said, voice and face both soft, “He needs you, he does. In his life.” He looked at the ground, thought for a moment, and then said, “All right, then. I’ll do it. But you must not let on where you get your information, Doctor. I beg of you. I will not ‘ave the man question my loyalty.”

  “It is for him that you do this, Sergeant.”

  He nodded his head.

  “Right you are, miss,” he said quietly.

  I Would Not Countenance Another Failure

  Anna

  “They was Bohemian. That much we do know,” Sergeant Blackmore said. “From a place called Staab, if memory serves me.”

  He reached forward and lifted a piece of Mrs Hardwick’s latest culinary efforts - a light and airy sandwich cake today - from the plate before him and took an enormous bite out of it. Crumbs rained down on his great coat. He brushed at them, his cheeks pinking at the sight he made.

  I smiled into my teacup and took a soothing sip.

  Mina was chasing butterflies with a net. Close enough to enjoy our company in the garden, yet far enough away for the sergeant to impart some much-needed information regarding the first murder scene. My cousin’s energy this afternoon was not lost on me. I put the change in her physicality down to the sergeant’s presence.

  “Metal-workers,” Blackie said, once he’d cleaned himself up sufficiently. “Iron and brass, mostly; they was working at the foundry in Freemans Bay. Casual labourers, but more than that we do not know.”

  “Have you visited the foundry?” I asked.

  “Aye, miss, but access was denied us.”

  “Denied? The police?”

  “It is council-owned, and the mayor does not much like the Auckland Police Force.”

  “Mr Entrican,” I said, nodding. I could well imagine James Entrican was disinclined to cooperate with the police. I feared that may well have been my fault; I had singled the poor man out in the 1891 Suffragette Murders.

  The disruption to his election speeches had not done the man too much political harm, however, as he had been voted in as the city’s mayor not long after the real culprit had been arrested. Ethel Poynton�
�s incarceration had been widely publicised, and Mr Entrican had made sure he was forefront in the news as having had a hand in her apprehension.

  Perhaps saying he owed me a favour for such was a stretch, but I did believe the man would see me. He had at one time briefly attempted to court me.

  “Aye, Doctor,” Blackmore said smiling as he watched Mina jump up and down having caught a most impressive specimen. “Will you pin it, then, miss?” he asked her.

  “Oh, no, Sergeant,” Mina exclaimed. “I cannot end such a splendid life so ignominiously.” Mina let the butterfly go.

  I watched the sergeant and not my cousin. Wonder and awe graced his fist-roughened face.

  My eyes wandered across the lawn to where Mina was attempting to catch a second butterfly. Theirs would not be an easy courtship. Despite the sergeant’s promising career. Yet I could not think of a more noble man for my sweet cousin than James Blackmore.

  And as Mina’s gaze landed briefly on the sergeant and then skittered away with a flush to her cheeks chasing it, I knew my cousin would not condemn the man for his background. But rather love him in spite of whence he came.

  “I believe I have an appointment, Sergeant,” I announced, standing. Blackmore rose too. “Please stay,” I instructed with a wave of my hand toward his seat. “Enjoy the last of the cake, won’t you? Hardwick does so dislike storing it overnight; such a waste.”

  He nodded his head to me, his eyes darting back to Mina.

  “I’ll keep the lass company,” he advised.

  “You do that, Sergeant. You do that,” I said and walked away.

  The sun was getting low in the sky when I made it to the mayor’s office. The council building rose before me; a behemoth waiting to devour its prey. I shuddered as I stepped down from the hansom, then straightened my back, gripped my parasol tightly, and climbed the steps into the hungry maw of the giant.

  At this late hour of the day, many of those inside were hurrying about their chores; attempting to complete their tasks before business closed on Queen Street. I strode with purpose to the reception area of the mayor’s offices, ignoring the corridor that would have taken me to the deputy mayor’s space. I had tread those floorboards before, but not today.

  A young man in his twenties, I guessed, sat at a desk in the ante-room I entered, tapping away on a typewriter. The mechanical clunk of the keys echoed in the high ceiling of the room. He did not look up until he had finished the sentence he’d been executing. Pushing wire-rimmed glasses up his nose, he peered up at me; not standing upon the entrance of a lady.

  “Sir,” I said. “I am here to seek an audience with the mayor.”

  “Are you now?” His gaze narrowed. “I know you. You’re that woman.”

  I arched my brow at him but said nothing. I had been called far worse by better men than he.

  He pointed a finger at me. “You’re that lady doctor! The one that caused so much trouble for Mr Entrican.”

  “I am an acquaintance of the man in question,” I corrected. “And come to pay my respects on returning from London.”

  “He’ll not want to be seeing you,” the man snapped.

  “You speak for the mayor, then?” I enquired mildly.

  “I am his secretary, madam. No one gets through that door without my say-so.”

  “Then you will be prepared to pass on information he must obtain.”

  “Information? What information?”

  “Regarding the political climate in London and the increase in migrant labour they are sending our way.”

  “There is a depression, madam,” the man said, looking down his nose at me. “It is to be expected.”

  “And yet, Australia is not having the same immigration issues as New Zealand.”

  “Their turn will come.”

  “Assisted migration has been out for some years, sir. Think you not the current climate in Britain is to blame for our increase in migrant workers? How much more can this city sustain?”

  “The 1888 Poll Tax will see to some of that,” he harrumphed.

  “And will only cause disgruntlement amongst the Chinese immigrants already settled here. Those who venture to our abundant shores from the British Isles will not be so put-upon. And then there are the Dalmatians!” I raised my voice in order for it to carry. “The opening of the kauri gum fields in Northland will only lead to Auckland becoming a thoroughfare for the boots of many more labourers.”

  “You do not know for certain that will be the case!” the mayor’s secretary shouted.

  The door to the mayor’s office opened, and James Entrican peered out, spearing his secretary with a hard glare.

  “What on earth is going on out here, Rogers?” he demanded.

  His eyes flicked to me, and he paused. He had not changed a whit since I last laid eyes upon the man. His cravat today was just as elaborate as I remembered. His waistcoat a resplendent example of modern fashion tastes. His crisp white shirt was starched to within an inch of its life. And his whiskers were curled to within an inch of ridiculousness.

  I offered up my most engaging smile and stepped forward to greet the man.

  “Mr Entrican! How lovely of you to agree to see me.”

  His lips twitched, and he scratched at the side of his face. Sharp eyes swept across the room to his secretary.

  “This…lady,” the man in question said, “has insisted she has news from London that may be of relevance to our current immigration policies. I believe this not to be the case, but she is persistent, sir.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Entrican said, sounding amused, thankfully, and not put-upon. “Dr Cassidy,” he added, nodding his head toward me. “I had heard you were back from your sabbatical. How fare you?”

  “Well,” I said, stepping forward and forcing the mayor to retreat into his office. I crossed the threshold and walked directly to the seat before his overlarge desk. Sitting down, I added, “if you must know, Mayor, I am rather delighted to be of assistance.”

  Entrican hovered by the door for a moment and then drew it closed behind him and crossed the room to his chair. I scanned the walls and picked out the sketches of Mechanics Bay; a favoured locale of the gentleman’s. Not much had changed, then.

  “In what way can you be of assistance, madam?” he asked, sitting also. “The political climate in England is well known to me; I have my own sources.”

  I waved a hand dismissing the suggestion, which garnered an arched brow and twitch of his lips again.

  “I am not here for that.”

  “And yet you flustered my secretary and enraged the man into a verbal sparring match he had no hope of winning.”

  I smiled. “It is always such a pleasure to meet a man who is not afraid to discuss such topics with a lady.”

  “I dare say he had little choice in the matter.”

  I said nothing, just blinked owlishly at the man, hoping for a look of innocence.

  I must have failed, because he sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “I should see you out. You have caused unimaginable difficulties for me in the past.”

  “And yet, here you sit at the head of the city. Could I not also be charged with your success to date.”

  “All of it?”

  I offered a self-deprecating smile.

  “Well, some of it, at the very least. You did garner an awful lot of attention pre-election. And I did identify the correct culprit for the murders, thereby freeing your name most soundly.”

  He huffed out a breath.

  “What is it you require, Dr Cassidy?” He held up a hand to stall me. “One favour and one only. Choose wisely.”

  I could not ask for more. Had he not pressed his suit of me, he would not have been falsely accused in the first place. But I had cleared his name, so he felt an obligation to me.

  However, once I asked my favour, all would be even. I could not approach this man again and expect such a welcome, I believed.

  I opened my mouth to ask for permission for the police to
enter the foundry and then shut it again.

  They may not find what they needed there, and I had an opportunity before me to dig right to the heart of the matter.

  “Two of the council’s employees at the foundry were found murdered in Freemans Bay this week past,” I said. “I should like their addresses to hand to the investigating officer on the case. Much can be garnered from one’s home environment, wouldn’t you say?”

  “You are assisting the police again?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  He smiled at me. “You, madam, are quite something.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “For the police, I fear not. For those of us on the periphery; I dear say it is entertaining.”

  My smile was small this time.

  “I do aim to please,” I said dryly.

  The mayor stood and moved to the door of his office, saying something in quiet tones to his secretary. Within moments he returned with an address written on a piece of notepaper. The secretary had excellent penmanship. But that was not what had my heart beating loudly within the confines of my chest.

  I knew the location. I had been called there on many an occasion to assist in various ailments and illnesses of those who resided there in the past. Freemans Bay was on the ‘wrong’ side of Queen Street. As was Franklin Street, but somehow my home was still considered apart from the slums that made up the dirtier part of the city.

  It was where I plied my trade. Those who could not make the short journey to Franklin Street and my surgery often sent a runner to bring me to them within the warren of Freemans Bay. I knew the streets and dark alleys. I knew the lean-tos and swill houses, the worker-man taverns and rowdy dancehalls. It was not the purview of a lady, but I am not just any lady.

  I am also a physician. And I turn no man, woman or child away.

  I slipped the address into my reticule and stood.

  “Thank you, Your Worship,” I said and curtsied.

  He studied me for a long moment, something of attraction still evident in his gaze. But he pushed it aside, no doubt believing I would not make such a good political choice in marriage. I could not blame him.