Blackie approached Drummond and carefully pried the papers from his tight fist. The doctor did not offer a fight. He stood in the middle of the cellblock, a beaten man, lost and quite undone by the supposed love of his life.
Without reading what was on them, Blackie handed the papers to me through the gap in the bars. I took one final look at Drummond and then began to flick through them.
At first, confusion made understanding what I read difficult to master, but once I found my name upon a sheet, and Eliza May’s beneath it, I realised what I held in my hands.
“These are marriage certificates,” I murmured. I did not sound at all like myself when I said it.
“She has kept them?” Blackie asked, sounding surprised. “More than one, guv?”
There were several, and as my heart damn near beat out of my chest, I attempted to put them in order. It took several goes, and then with frustration, I placed them all in order of date issued on the floor.
She had kept every one of her marriage certificates.
“Oh, my,” Wilhelmina Cassidy said. “She has been busy.”
“And over a short period of time,” Blackie offered.
“Are they souvenirs?” McQueen asked.
“Every murderer keeps something of their crimes,” Anna offered. “Although not her hand that has wielded the weapon on every occasion, has she not been a master criminal and therefore subject to the same whims as those who have gone before her?”
“They are souvenirs,” Blackie confirmed. “Not hearts or trinkets, but the marriage certificates of the men she ‘as manipulated and compelled to do her bidding.”
I tasted bile in my throat. I swallowed it down viciously. My fists bunched and my vision wavered. I wanted to punch the wall again until all I felt was the shattering of my knuckles. All the better to chase away the horror and shame of having been captured in such a manner.
For was I not one of her manipulations?
“Oh, good Lord,” Anna exclaimed, and something in her tone had me surfacing from the pits of hell again. I blinked my vision clear and stared at her beautiful face. For a moment, the familiarity of her features calmed me and then she said, “There are several dated before your wedding day.”
I blinked and looked back down at the certificates. She was right. My marriage to Eliza May occurred in the middle of her rampage. I was merely one of many, not the one that started her on the path to polygamy.
“Andrew,” Anna said, a type of burgeoning hope echoing in my name as she spoke it.
“What is it, Anna?” I asked. Nay, almost begged her.
“Don’t you see?” she said. “If she has not sought a dissolution to those marriages that preceded yours, as she has undoubtedly not done for Dr Drummond, then your marriage to her is null and void.”
The world stopped. The room ceased to exist.
I was up from my crouch above the papers and across the cell in an instant, my hands reaching out to her through the bars and greedily hauling her up against them. She let out a breath of startled air, and then my palms were cupping her cheeks, and I was looking into heaven.
“Anna,” I said.
“Yes,” she replied, and whether she was just agreeing with me, or saying something else, answering a question that I might, just might, be able to ask her finally, I did not know.
But it was the sweetest sound, the sweetest word, I had ever heard.
My wife was a serial polygamist. And had been one when she waltzed into my life and turned it on its head.
She was not, in fact, my wife, but originally another’s.
I turned back to the papers, which were just out of reach of Blackie’s hand, but that had not stopped him from crouching down and trying to read each one. I couldn’t release Anna. I couldn’t let her go.
So, I said, from where I clung to her, “Whose is the name on the first certificate?”
He leaned to the side, narrowed his eyes, and then sucked in a breath of air.
His surprised gaze came up to meet mine.
But I thought, perhaps, that I had finally guessed it.
For had he not been there all along, right from the very beginning in Whitechapel? Had he not haunted my nemesis’ steps and vilified my name supposedly on Reid’s instructions many an occasion? Had he not followed me here to the Antipodes?
Followed his wife.
“William Elliott, sir,” Blackie said and sealed the inspector’s fate.
I’m Coming With You
Anna
Such a shocking discovery should not have been absorbed so readily into so much activity. In a thrice, Sergeant Blackmore had us released from our cells, the constable aiding him. Dr Drummond stood to the side, a lost soul with haunted eyes. No one spoke to him, nor did he expect any such treatment.
The moment my cell door was opened, Andrew rushed in to wrap me in his arms. He held me close, kissed the top of my head, and shuddered with relief and not just a little worry.
We knew who we were dealing with, but we did not know where Eliza May or William Elliott had taken Mrs Hardwick.
“Mina,” I said. “How did you come by Mrs Drummond?”
Dr Drummond made a sound of anguish and then pushed past the sergeant and out of the cellblock. I cursed my heartless words and then focused on Mina’s answer.
“I was in the garden with Arabella,” she was saying. “Mrs Drummond appeared all of a sudden and said the front door was hanging open and Mrs Hardwick was not in the house when she had entered after announcing herself.”
“Elliott,” Andrew muttered, still holding me in his arms as if he’d never let me go.
“And because young Miss Cassidy had company,” Blackmore offered, “the housekeeper was an easier target.”
My stomach somersaulted. She could have taken Mina. Perhaps that had been her plan all along. But Andrew’s forethought to hire Arabella Mackey as a companion had saved my cousin.
“What happened to Miss Mackey?” Andrew asked Mina.
“She flagged a hansom and said she’d return home.”
“And you accompanied Mrs Drummond here?” Andrew surmised.
“She said it was paramount that we advise the Police Force in person. I thought she would make the statement at the front desk, but instead, she demanded the superintendent attend us. I was rather put out by the man’s gruff demeanour, and I’m ashamed to say I lost my temper when he realised who I was and turned his back on me.”
That was my fault. For sweet Wilhelmina had been tarred with the same brush as me in his eyes.
“At which point,” Mina went on, “I found a well of courage I had not known I possessed and demanded I see Inspector Kelly and my cousin instead.”
“I always knew you had it in you, miss,” Blackmore offered solicitously. Mina blushed.
“And Mrs Drummond?” Andrew asked.
“She vanished, I’m afraid. What with the chaos that my outburst created. I did not see her leave, but when the new Chief Constable of the Watch brought me to the cells, she was no longer with me.”
“A blessing, if you ask me,” Blackmore said gravely.
“Indeed,” Andrew acquiesced. “Where is Drummond?” He looked around, only now noticing the Police Surgeon’s absence.
“I’ll check the surgery,” Constable McQueen offered and ran out of the room.
“I fear he will not be there,” Blackie said.
“Gone after his wife?” Mina asked.
“We must hurry,” Andrew surmised. “If he reaches her before we do, she will be in the wind.”
He did not say of what he thought would transpire to Mrs Hardwick, and part of me was thankful for that. And not only because my cousin was present.
I bit my lip as we all emerged from the police station’s cells, word of our innocence having spread and reached the constabulary. Men greeted Andrew with salutes and offers to help. And it wasn’t long until we had a trail of willing policemen following us.
Superintendent Chalmers stood in the middle
of the reception area upon our arrival; his arms crossed over his big chest, a hard look to his eyes.
“I hear it is another inspector I should have confined,” he said gruffly.
“You hear correctly, sir,” Andrew offered in reply.
“And what, pray tell, do you intend to do about this, Kelly?”
“Catch them before they kill again. And end this once and for all.”
Chalmers nodded his head, said nothing in reply, then shooting me one last disgruntled look, walked off toward his office and out of sight.
“That went better than I thought it would,” Sergeant Blackmore admitted.
Andrew offered a grunt in reply, and with his hand to my lower spine, directed me from the building. Two curricles, a Black Maria, and several mounted policemen awaited. Andrew assisted me up into the front carriage, and I saw the sergeant do the same to Mina in the one behind us.
“Should we bring Mina with us?” I asked, fearing for my cousin’s wellbeing.
“Would that I could guarantee her safety at the station,” Andrew murmured. “She will not come to harm with Blackie.”
I checked over my shoulder and realised the truth of that. The sergeant fussed over her comfort on the seat beside him, even going so far as to offer a rug for her knees to keep her warm.
“He does dote on her,” I commented mildly.
“He is in love,” Andrew said, looking directly at me.
“Where is my rug?” I enquired.
He smiled and flicked the reins, making the curricle lurch forward.
“You do not require cosseting, Anna Cassidy. You require free reign and the space to achieve your heart’s desire.”
“I should like a little cosseting on occasion,” I told him.
“Then I shall look forward to giving it to you when we are alone at last. But today is not the day.”
No, it wasn’t. Mrs Hardwick was missing, his wife, who was not legally his wife, was still at large. And Inspector William Elliott, a ghost from his Whitechapel past, needed to be cut down and sent to the gallows for his part in all of this.
Today was not the day, but my heart swelled with the knowledge that one day that day may finally come.
I could not contain my emotions, for I had dreamt of this for years and lost all hope of ever having a chance. Andrew would have given me his body and heart, but he had not the power to offer his soul. For as he saw it, it belonged to another, bound by the law of marriage and God’s will. He had never truly been mine.
But he had not been hers either.
And now…now there was hope.
I clasped my hands together in my lap and sucked in breath after breath in a frantic need to quell the gathering of moisture in my eyes. Andrew, thankfully, did not notice, too concerned with directing our entourage to Dr Drummond’s house.
We made good time and pulled up in front of the cottage. A sign beside the door spoke of Drummond’s position within the Police Force; a plaque that had at one time adorned our front porch when my father was still alive. I had not dared come this way after his death, for seeing the plaque where I had thought it did not belong would have cut me like a knife.
And yet I stared at it now and wondered how long it would remain on this house now; for surely Drummond had ended his career with this latest in a long line of mistakes he’d made choosing lady companions.
I felt ill at ease thinking thus, but while I waited for the constables to search the property, my mind had unintentionally wandered to dark thoughts. I told myself I would count my blessings and not wish for more than was offered.
It was a difficult mental conversation, but I managed.
The constables and Sergeant Blackmore emerged and shook their heads.
“He’s not here, guv. And neither is she.”
“The glasshouse?” Andrew enquired.
“Seedlings and such, but nothing to indicate she’d been manufacturing.”
“That is a blessing.”
“Where to next, may I ask?”
Andrew sat back and scratched at his beard. “The Grand Hotel.”
“It’s worth a crack, but I doubt we’ll find anything.”
“Regardless, let us proceed.”
Every second it took us to reach the hotel where Elliott had been staying felt like an eternity. How long had Mrs Hardwick been in their care? How long did they need to harm her? The device, thankfully, had been found locked away in the evidence locker. The surprise of that had momentarily halted us. For why had Inspector Elliott not taken it? He had access. He would have had opportunity. And he certainly had motive.
But what they clearly planned was not to replicate the prior murders.
Which meant we were walking into a trap.
But the snare did not snap once we reached the Grand Hotel. For Elliott had settled his bill that morning. His rooms had been cleaned, and there was no evidence to be found. Not even a spot of blood to prove his guilt in all of this.
“This is not good, guv,” Sergeant Blackmore declared. “We’re running out of places to search.”
Andrew paced back and forth on the path before the hotel. I sat beside Mina in her curricle, as it had seemed the better place to wait. We’d held hands as the constables had swarmed the building. Andrew had accompanied them this time, perhaps because Blackmore had searched Drummond’s - Eliza May’s - house.
“The doctor’s house was too obvious,” Andrew mused aloud. “And they could not have trusted that Drummond would have remained blind to their plans.”
“And the hotel?” Blackmore asked.
“Too public.”
“Where does that leave?”
“Franklin Street,” I said with a clarity that scared me. For where else could she do the most damage?
“Your house?” Andrew confirmed. “Returning there after Wilhelmina’s exit.” He nodded, liking the idea.
I did not. I closed my eyes and fisted my hands, breathing through the knowledge. My father’s house. My home. Where my surgery was located.
When I opened my eyes again, I met Andrew’s compassionate gaze. Then as if we choreographed it, we looked toward Freemans Bay in unison and where Franklin Street was located.
A thin trail of black smoke twisted up into the air.
“Fire!” a constable shouted.
My heart sank, and a sob escaped uninvited.
“Anna,” Andrew said, reaching for my hand and helping me down. “To my curricle,” he instructed.
With shaking hands and legs, I climbed aboard the buggy; Andrew swiftly pulling himself up into the seat at my side. With a yell to urge the horse forward, he flicked the reins and shot the vehicle in motion. We careened down Princes Street toward Custom House Street, and then took the corner at a speed that had me clutching the sides of the bench seat beneath me.
Andrew stared straight ahead, trusting me to hold on for my life, and then we were passed the bottom of Queen Street and making good progress toward Franklin.
The Fire Brigade had beaten us there when we arrived and were in the process of bringing water in buckets to douse the flames that licked the side of the building. I made a sound and jumped from the curricle before Andrew had a chance to halt the horses.
“Anna!” he shouted, throwing the reins to a policeman on site and jumping down behind me.
He’d lost his cane somewhere, and it was that and that alone that stopped me from running headfirst into the flaming building. I stopped mid-stride, staring back at the wince that graced his handsome features and seeing the hand that immediately went to his thigh.
Mina cried out and also garnered my attention, but Sergeant Blackmore held her back, and she had not the connection to the surgery that I had. I turned and faced the blaze, but I did not go nearer. Andrew reached my side and placed a hand on my back, and then pulled me into his side.
“I am sorry,” he said. For it was clear the surgery was lost. “They will save the house,” he advised.
I shook my head. My equipment. My t
inctures. My life.
He was gone to me, I realised. My father’s tools and not mine being those inside the surgery left to burn. All that I had of his work, all that I had that he’d touched. Gone.
A sob escaped me, my body shaking with the shock and loss all over again.
Andrew drew me closer and kissed the side of my head.
“She will pay,” he promised, and this time I believed it was a promise Andrew Kelly would keep.
Eliza May would pay for the crimes she’d committed. But first, we had to find her.
We waited until the flames were controlled, and then Sergeant Blackmore entered the building under the guidance of the Fire Brigade. I held my breath, for I feared Mrs Hardwick would be found unconscious or worse inside. When the sergeant emerged, blackened by soot and coughing, he shook his head and met my eyes.
“She’s not there, Doc,” he said.
I let a burst of air out and then ashamed at my visceral reaction, slipped from Andrew’s hold and turned my back on the policemen who had gathered.
“Where to now?” I heard Blackie say, giving me the privacy I much needed.
“I can think of only one further possible location,” Andrew advised. “For has she not left us breadcrumbs to follow?”
We’d checked her home. We’d checked Elliott’s accommodation. The smoke had been a signal to come here.
She was indeed leading us to her.
“I don’t like this,” Blackmore declared.
“Nor I,” Andrew admitted. I knew he was looking at me, but I did not turn back around and face him.
Eliza May had been one step ahead of us the entire time she’d been here. She’d known before us what we would do and where we would go. And when she’d felt it necessary, she’d given us hints to guide us.
We were mice in a maze, and she was watching with cruel delight as we chased our tails and ate her breadcrumbs.
“The slums,” I said.
“Yes,” Andrew agreed behind me. His warmth wrapped around my body and then he was there.
I looked up at him and felt a sense of calm wash over me. Andrew had always been my anchor. From the moment news of my father’s death had reached me, Andrew had been there. At first, I thought it a duty he had given himself. And then I had thought it a dying request he’d received from my father.
Heartless (Scarlet Suffragette, Book 3): A Victorian Historical Romantic Suspense Series Page 25