“I’m not, but I can’t help but wonder if the woman in the hooded cloak waited until you’d left to approach the table and your wife.” Another thought struck her just then. “You were called away from your table, you say? Might it not have been a coincidence?”
She’d already seen malevolence in his eyes, but now, a sudden savagery set her back on her heels. It drove him another alarming step closer.
“Are you suggesting I was drawn away from my table so that someone could poison my wife?”
The succinct theory gave her as much of a chill as the daunting Mr. Carter, who now loomed over her. “That depends on why you left and with whom you were meeting,” she replied despite beginning to feel like tiny insects were crawling over the surface of her skin. “Who was it?”
He peered down his nose at her. “I don’t discuss my private business with women I’m unacquainted with. So, tell me, what is your name, miss?”
Leo still wasn’t inclined to give it. However, Mr. Carter looked as though he wouldn’t stand for no answer from her.
In the corner of her vision, a figure filled the open office doorway.
“What is going on in here?”
At Jasper’s raspy voice, Leo drew breath again. Slightly dizzy, she took a step in reverse, putting much needed space betweenherself and Mr. Carter. Purposefully, Jasper put himself into that space, his back to Leo, and his stare hinged on Andrew Carter.
Mr. Carter abandoned his harsh expression for one of mild amusement. “I was just making the acquaintance of Miss…?”
“The lady is leaving,” Jasper said. He turned toward her, his sooty green eyes blazing with admonishment. He ushered her toward the door without laying a finger on her, although Leo was certain he wished to take her by the arm and toss her from the office just as Constable Wiley had tried to do.
“Go,” he said under his breath, the muscles along his jaw jumping.
“I left a report on your desk?—”
Jasper shut the door in her face. Leo bristled at the rude dismissal. But as she walked back through the detective department on somewhat shaky legs, she couldn’t deny the surge of relief to be gone from Mr. Carter’s presence. Being near him had felt like getting caught in a sticky web.
Passing a snidely smirking Constable Wiley at his desk, Leo thought of something more: Jasper had referred to her as ‘the lady’. He hadn’t wanted to give Mr. Carter her name any more than she did, and for that, she was grateful—and curious to know why.
Chapter Eight
Jasper waited to speak until his thundering heart slowed and the flash of his temper reduced to a simmer. He filled those seconds by removing his double-breasted coat and hat and sizing up Andrew Carter’s hired muscle on his way to his desk. Carter likely went nowhere without protection.
“Thank you for waiting,” Jasper said. He wouldn’t apologize or give excuses for being late. To a man like Andrew Carter, it would signal submission.
A carriage accident on the way back from Regent Street had snarled traffic. Though he’d arrived at the Yard only ten minutes late, it put him at a disadvantage. Then, walking into his office to find Andrew standing over Leo in an intimidating posture had pulled the rug out from under him. She shouldn’t have been there, alone with him. He’d wring Wiley’s neck for allowing it, and then he’d hunt Leo down at the morgue and wring hers for good measure.
“Not to worry, Inspector. The young lady kept me entertained,” he said as he moved back toward a chair. “I didn’t catch her name.”
“She’ll remain nameless.” He met Andrew’s cold, inspective stare. Jasper waited for a strike of recognition in the other man’s eyes. Some glimmer of recollection. None came, and he exhaled discreetly.
“That’s mysterious,” Andrew replied. “You should know, it only deepens my interest in her.”
Jasper clenched his jaw. If Andrew had seen that sodding article in theIllustrated Police News, he would have known her identity right off. The illustration of Leo had been well-done, and it had taken every ounce of Jasper’s willpower that morning not to go to the weekly’s offices first thing and demand to know who had drawn it. It would have been a shortsighted move. A visit from a Metropolitan Police detective would only indicate to the paper’s editors that the short article had worth, and a follow-up piece would soon be printed. So instead, he’d gone about his morning, stewing, though hopeful that one article would be the last of it. Whoever the artist was, they’d observed Leo, as had whoever wrote the article. The idea of some faceless man watching her, digging for information about her, made him want to hit something.Hard.
The weekly tabloid had been among the other papers Mrs. Zhao laid out in his study last night, but his instinct had been to keep it hidden from Leo. It would upset her, to be sure, though he didn’t think it likely she would remain oblivious much longer. Someone was bound to tell her about it.
“Lose your interest, Mr. Carter. She is an innocent bystander in this case, and we’ll speak no more of her,” Jasper said.
Andrew chuckled as he sat and crossed a leg over his knee. “Innocent? She has more bollocks than most of you bobbies put together. Asked me a few pointed questions.”
Jasper groaned quietly. Of course, she had.
“Well, now I will be asking you some pointed questions. I hope you’ll cooperate, as I’m leading the investigation into your wife’s murder.”
He dropped his ingenuine grin. “I’ll cooperate, Inspector. Not that I have any faith Scotland Yard will find the person who poisoned her, but I’ll give you ten minutes to ask your questions.”
“How generous of you,” Jasper replied. “Where were you when your wife fell ill at the table?”
