Leo frowned. She hadn’t considered Mrs. Carter’s pain during her last minutes. Of course, they would have been excruciating. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She squirmed in her seat, questioning her empathy—or lack of it.
“I want to help find out who poisoned her,” Leo said, “so that they can be held accountable for what they did. You had the better view of their table while we were seated.”
If only she’d been seated where Dita had been, she’d have the memories to explore in fine detail.
“But I had no reason to pay attention to a woman with her husband. I saw the wedding bands on their fingers and figured they were hitched,” Dita said, shrugging.
She’d been far more interested in sneaking looks toward the table of gentlemen behind her. “I understand, but do try, Dita. It usually takes twenty or so minutes for arsenic to begin taking effect, so she must have ingested it right around the time we arrived.”
Dita’s thin, jet eyebrows furrowed as she visibly tried to remember. “If that is the case, then she was with her husband at that point. I noticed him when we arrived. Don’t tell John,” she added with a wink.
Dita had a shameless fondness for handsome men and openly admired them. However, the worst she would ever do was flirt and dance with them. It was PC John Lloyd with whom she was truly enamored.
“Do you recall when Mr. Carter left his wife’s side?” she asked.
Dita shook her head. “No, but as I’ve already said, I do remember seeing the woman in the hooded cloak you spoke of. Having a hood drawn up indoors was odd, I thought. She obviously didn’t want her face being seen. She and Mrs. Carter were seated alone at the table. I think it was right around the time you urged me to go dance the polka.”
“They were talking?” Leo asked.
“Yes, and Mrs. Carter appeared quite serious.” Dita lifted a shoulder. “But as I figured the woman in the cloak wanted her privacy, I tried to give it to her. I suppose that was the wrong decision.”
“Not at all,” Leo replied, “and what you’ve told me will be helpful.”
“Should I tell Inspector Reid?”
Leo thought of Jasper’s cutting remark to not tell him how to do his job earlier at the morgue. That hadn’t been her intent, but it shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d jumped to a differentconclusion. He’d always been easy to provoke, even when she wasn’t necessarily trying.
“Yes, and anything more you can recall. I’m sure he’ll come speak to you today.” She hoped he would, at least. Leo stood and smoothed her skirt. “I should get back to the morgue.”
Dita stood as well, though she froze as soon as she was on her feet. “Wait, I do remember something else. It might not be anything important but…” She closed her eyes, as if trying to recall it more clearly. “I was distracted by the woman’s hood when I noticed it, and it made me forget the very first thing I saw.”
Leo waited, holding her breath.
“Mrs. Carter took something from the woman’s hand and put it into her handbag,” Dita finished.
“Do you know what it was?”
“No. She whisked it out of sight, and then the hood drawn up on her companion caught my attention, and I didn’t think of it again.”
Her handbag. Gabriela Carter’s purse had been among her personal possessions when the body arrived at the morgue. As she did with every new arrival, Leo had thoroughly catalogued the contents. The black velvet brocade purse with a brass kiss lock had contained common things a woman of her status would carry: a paper tube of lip rouge, a hair comb, a lace-trimmed handkerchief embroidered with her initials in one corner, and a small round mirror.
The only item that had given Leo pause had been the folded photograph of the two young children, clearly deceased but staged to look as if they were still alive. The little boy and girl, both probably aged two or three years, had been propped up together on a wooden rocking horse. Eyes and lashes had been painted on their closed eyelids. She could see every detail of thepicture in her mind and shivered again, as she’d done when she first found it.
It was the only thing in the purse that didn’t belong. She had no evidence that the cloaked woman had given it to Mrs. Carter, but it seemed most likely. Two dead children. One dead young woman. How were they connected? Though Jasper would heartily disapprove, Leo was determined to find out.
When she arrived in the detective department to leave Gabriela Carter’s postmortem report on Jasper’s desk, she was met by Constable Horace Wiley. As he was so adept at reminding her, visitors to the department were to present themselves to him, and then he could decide who—if anyone—would see to them and their complaints. Unlike Constable Woodhouse, his strange behavior today notwithstanding, Constable Wiley never failed to uphold this rule. Or at least try to, because Leo had no intention of following it.
“Good afternoon, constable,” she said as she tried to walk swiftly past his desk. He jumped from his chair to block her.
“State your business, MissLeoMorga,” he said, drawing out the puerile moniker he’d given her a few years back. She ignored it, as she always did in the hope that he would cease using it.
“I’m simply leaving this report on Inspector Reid’s desk.” She held up the manila folder containing her typed report and tried to edge around the constable’s stout frame. But Wiley was built like an ice box and was just as cold in his demeanor toward her.
“You may leave the report with me,” he said, extending his hand. Leo pulled it out of his reach.
“I would rather leave it on the Inspector’s desk myself.” She didn’t trust Constable Wiley in the least. The man was an arrogant toad. On several occasions, when Gregory Reid had still been alive and at the Yard, she’d witnessed the constable turning away women who’d come to make valid complaints regarding abuse, missing children, and other violations of the worstsort. He often refused to allow them to speak to a detective, telling them they were wasting valuable police time with their “overactive imaginations.”
“Shall I fetch the chief, then?” Wiley asked. His snide threat was enough to make her roll her eyes. Detective Chief Inspector Coughlan would likely give the constable a good dressing down for fetching him over such a trifling matter, and it was something she would enjoy seeing. However, it would still cast her in a poor light. Already, the chief had asked Jasper to limit Leo’s presence at the Yard.
