Inspector Tomlin had already questioned Dita extensively, and she didn’t want to inflict any more strain on her friend. But the connection between the two men needed to be resolved.
“John’s brother said he’d been associating with men of low character,” Leo began. “Did you ever see him with people like that? Men you were concerned about?”
Dita shook her head firmly. “No. Never. You can’t believe anything Charlie says. He simply hates that John chose to join the Met.”
It was what Leo had sensed too.
“Odds are that PC Lloyd and Niles Foster met while gambling at Striker’s Wharf,” Jasper said.
As the daughter of a police sergeant, and a matron at Scotland Yard, Dita was attuned to the workings of an investigation. She was also naturally clever. “You believe their deaths are somehow related.”
Jasper sighed and nodded.
She sat forward. “Why?”
“Miss Brooks, when was the last time you saw PC Lloyd before he died?”
He was clearly avoiding having to explain about the matching marks on the bodies, which might further upset her. Leo appreciated the care Jasper was taking with her friend.
“The previous afternoon, I think.” She furrowed her brow in thought. “Yes. He met me for tea.”
“What did he do that evening?” Leo asked.
Dita’s brow smoothed. Her dark brown irises met Leo’s gaze, her pupils narrowing to pinpricks. “He mentioned he might go out. To Striker’s Wharf.”
A current of possibility straightened Leo’s spine. She and Jasper exchanged a meaningful glance.
“I don’t know if he truly did go, though,” Dita said.
“Thank you, Miss Brooks,” Jasper said, moving toward the front hall. “I’ll take my leave.”
Leo got to her feet and followed him out of the room. Softly, she said, “Mr. Bloom would know if John was there that night.”
Jasper opened the door. “I am aware of that.”
“And he might know more about why Niles Foster was thrown out of the back room.”
He slapped his hat onto his head. “Astoundingly, I’d already considered that too.”
As usual, she ignored his bit of sarcasm. “Are you going there now?”
He stayed on the threshold of the door. “You are not coming with me, Leo.”
A knot kinked her stomach. She’d expected that response, and the impulse to argue was on the tip of her tongue. But then, she remembered that she shouldn’t want to be near Jasper. Not even for a curious twist in an investigation.
She hitched her chin. “I have no wish to accompany you, Inspector.” Oh, how it galled her to fib. “I was merely going to inform you that the man who threw Mr. Foster from the gambling room was tall, fair-haired, and had a drooping left eyelid. He may work for Mr. Bloom. Best of luck.”
She made to shut the door, but Jasper put out a hand to block it. She relented and waited for him to speak.
“Lewis said you didn’t want him to fetch me this morning when he discovered you were being held at the Yard. Why?”
She kept her hand on the knob, eager for him to be gone. If only so she wouldn’t change her mind and beg him to take her with him to Bloom’s club. He was so desperate for her to speak to him that he might even allow it. But it would be too unscrupulous of a ploy, and she refused to truly consider it.
“It wasn’t necessary,” she said with a nonchalant shrug. “I was perfectly fine.”
“No, you were not. You were being held without cause.”
“I’m sure Inspector Tomlin would disagree.”
