The information on the victim in the constables’ report was classified, though not private. Had the benefit dinner gone on as planned, uninterrupted, Sir Eamon would have likely spoken to the guests of Mrs. Seabright’s history with the Orphanage Fund as a grateful recipient of its charitable work. However, giving Leo any more information on the victim would only further kindle her interest in the case. He wanted her far from this investigation, out of harm’s way.
“We’re still gathering information,” Jasper replied, circumventing an answer. Then, after a pause, he reminded her, “I should be going.”
She shifted her footing as if realizing that she was being dismissed. And hell, if he didn’t feel like a donkey’s arse for it. But it was for the best.
“Right. I’m needed at the morgue,” she said, starting for the door. As he’d already learned from the chief, Mrs. Seabright’s body would be there, waiting.
“Perhaps you should take the day off,” he suggested blandly.
When Leo jolted to a halt and speared him with a glare over her shoulder, Jasper knew he’d overstepped.
“You have your job to do, Inspector, and I have mine.” With that, she opened the door to his office and left.
Chapter Five
Morning sunlight brightened the gray Portland stone edifice of the Royal Courts of Justice. Positioned on a busy intersection along the Strand, the massive building, with its imposing Gothic style arches and turrets, had only recently been opened by the Queen. The new home of England’s High Court and Court of Appeals had been designed to exude integrity and power, but as Jasper entered, he only had the vague sense of pomposity.
He believed in law and justice, of taking criminals off the street and doling out fair punishment. But he could not stomach the politics that went on in the higher echelons of the police and justice systems. The conversation with Chief Inspector Coughlan earlier had left a burr under his skin. Treating mediocre police officers and detectives with kid gloves was no way to improve the outcomes of investigations by the Met. There were plenty of men joining the police force every year, and clearing the department of inept detectives would give opportunity to newer officers once they’d come up through the ranks.
But then, Jasper wasn’t in charge at Scotland Yard, and he never would be if he got sacked.
He obtained directions to Sir Eamon’s chambers from a clerk in the reception hall and then made his way there. The previous evening, he’d only spoken to the chief coroner briefly before installing himself in the corner of the parlor. He seemed a pleasant enough man, but the interaction hadn’t been sufficient for Jasper to form any real opinion of him.
The secretary in the anteroom looked at Jasper’s warrant card with grim understanding, then knocked on the closed door to the office. After stepping inside and murmuring in low tones, the secretary emerged again.
“Sir Eamon will see you now.”
The chief coroner wasn’t alone. Jasper entered the office, a large space dominated by mahogany and leather, and found another man seated in a club chair. This man, whom he’d never seen before, impaled Jasper with a cold glare. With smoke wreathing the air from their cigars, the two appeared to have been having an easy conversation.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your meeting,” Jasper said, but Sir Eamon stood and waved the apology off.
“Not at all. I expected someone from the Yard this morning. Do come in. Cigar?”
“No, thank you.” He didn’t care for them, and he also didn’t want to get too snug with the chief coroner.
“Allow me to introduce you,” Sir Eamon said, then turned toward his guest, who was still seated and glaring daggers at Jasper. “Detective Inspector Reid, this is Mr. Stanley Hayes. Stanley was once on the Board of Governors for the orphanage.”
A frisson of surprise went through Jasper, followed by one of understanding. The man’s hateful look made sense now. Although Jasper had ended his relationship with Constance Hayes before ever meeting her parents, Stanley had surely heard about the working-class man his daughter had been carrying on with. To save face, Constance would have told her parents thatshe’d been the one to call things off between them, and Jasper would not dispute it. He owed her that much, if only for having drawn out their courtship for too long. Nevertheless, it appeared Stanley Hayes despised him. With the questions Jasper needed to ask, he braced himself for a disagreeable exchange.
“Mr. Hayes,” he said with a bob of his head.
Stanley blew out a cloud of cigar smoke. He stayed in his seat and gave no greeting.
“How is Miss Spencer?” Sir Eamon asked, overlooking Stanley’s cold demeanor. “I heard the good news that she was released by her abductors without harm.”
“She’s well, thank you,” Jasper said, one eye on Stanley Hayes as he kept the cigar between his molars.
“A relief,” Sir Eamon said. “My grandson introduced me to her briefly last evening. Connor thinks very highly of her.”
The mention of the new city coroner was a point of irritation, but Jasper was barely given the chance to feel it before Stanley Hayes gave a snort of derisive laughter. Both Jasper and Sir Eamon turned to him, baffled by the man’s outburst.
“Ah, yes, I’ve heard about Miss Spencer,” he said, his low opinion of her not to be missed. “A young woman, working in a morgue? Eamon, your grandson should have more sense than to encourage such indecency.”
Constance, too, had disparaged Leo for working in a morgue. It was no surprise Mr. Hayes concurred with his daughter.
The chief coroner raised a brow at his cantankerous guest but did not comment.
“I’m glad you’re here, Mr. Hayes,” Jasper said, surprising him. He frowned and lowered his cigar. “I’ve some questions for you as well as for Sir Eamon.”
