“Why do you say that?” Jasper asked.
“Because I believe he broke into the morgue this morning to visit his mother.”
The revelation sent a charge down his spine. “What?”
Leo stood and extended the bottle. With the stopper free, the strong odor was detectable from an arm’s length away. “WhenI returned from seeing you at Scotland Yard this morning, this same scent saturated the air inside the morgue. The lock on the back door had been picked, and Mrs. Seabright’s hand had been placed on her chest.”
Jasper grumbled under his breath. That was the second time since January someone had picked the morgue’s lock. He was beginning to think he should add the dirt path behind the church vestry to a constable’s regular circuit.
Standing at the entrance to the room, Mrs. Beardsley waved a hand in front of her face. “Oh, aye, that’s his scent. Pours the stuff on.”
Those who didn’t bathe regularly tended to daub perfume on themselves to cover up the odors from not washing. At lodging houses like this one, laundry services cost extra, as did bath water. When Jasper lived in bachelor’s rooms on Glasshouse Street prior to moving back to Charles Street, a few of his more frugal fellow lodgers had done the same.
“Thank you, Mrs. Beardsley,” Jasper said, then ushered her back into the hallway and closed the door to the room.
“Gavin Seabright would have been at the morgue right around eight o’clock,” Leo said.
Jasper took the bottle from her and corked it, his nose crinkling in distaste. “All right, then. This morning, one of the men responsible for Martha Seabright’s murder shows up here at her son’s lodgings.”
“In the carriage, this man,” Leo said, indicating the body on the floor, “was hushed up by the leader when he started to question the killing. It wasn’t part of the plan, and he was clearly upset by it.”
Upset enough to seek out the victim’s son?
“Mrs. Seabright’s identity hasn’t yet been printed in any newspapers. There is no chance this man would have known how to track down her son this morning unless,” Jasper said,his mind assembling a patent certainty, “they already knew each other.”
After speaking to Sir Eamon and learning about Gavin Seabright’s questionable character while at the orphanage, Jasper wouldn’t have put it past him to have known about the robbery at the benefit dinner. It might even be why he decided not to attend.
“Which means Mrs. Seabright may not have been a random victim,” Leo said, her expression lighting with familiar curiosity. “It was the very thing I was considering this morning. The leader of the masked men took several strides toward her when he could have selected anyone closer. Including me.”
The comment touched off a smoldering wick inside Jasper’s chest. He didn’t need to hear a reminder of how close she’d been to death yet again, or how he would not have been able to prevent it.
“Could the leader have been Gavin Seabright then?” Warnock asked.
“If so, he certainly wasn’t wearing that scent last night,” Leo replied, indicating the bottle Jasper had placed on a shelf.
“Gavin was here, according to Mrs. Beardsley,” he said. “She locks the door promptly at eleven, whether her lodgers are in or not. Gavin ate with the others and retired to his room afterward.”
His alibi for last night was secure; however, that didn’t mean he hadn’t been aware of the planned robbery. He very well may have been waiting for word of how the break-in went, and when he heard of his mother’s murder, he could have gone to the morgue to be certain it was true. Had the landlady heard a brawl after Gavin’s return to his lodgings at a quarter past ten, Jasper would assume he flew into a rage and killed this unidentified man. But as she reported not hearing anything amiss, Jasper was more apt to believe his death occurred while both Mrs.Beardsley and Gavin were out. Someone else had come to this house during that time.
Jasper explained his thinking to Leo and Warnock.
“Another one of the masked men? Perhaps their leader?” Leo supposed.
“Warnock, speak to the neighbors. Ask if they saw anyone arriving or leaving between eight and ten o’clock this morning,” Jasper said, then also instructed him to arrange for a cart to transport the body to the morgue. The detective sergeant left with more enthusiasm than the tasks warranted, likely relieved to get away from the dead body.
Jasper crossed his arms, peering down at it. “This man will lead us to the others. We just need to find out who he is.”
“Gavin Seabright may also be able to do that,” Leo said, then called for Mrs. Beardsley. Again, the landlady appeared in a blink.
“I got things to be gettin’ on with,” she complained. “What now?”
“Has Mr. Seabright had any visitors lately? Anyone you would see regularly?”
Jasper held his tongue against reminding Leo whose investigation this was and who should be asking the questions. It was already too late. Once she had that gleam of determination in her eyes, there was no going back. It was as frustrating as it was endearing.
“He kept to himself mostly,” Mrs. Beardsley answered. “Though, he did step out with some bird not too long ago.”
“A woman?” Jasper asked. “Do you know who she was?”
