Jasper’s shock had him spilling the coffee over the rim of his cup.
“How the blazes did you… I have not asked to court her.” His defensive reply had only made Mrs. Zhao chuckle.
“We are not courting,” he’d insisted as he’d risen to find a towel. She’d taken it from him and mopped up the spill, smiling widely.
“How did you know?”
Mrs. Zhao shook her head. “The way you look at her.”
“And what way might that be?”
At this, the housekeeper had leveled him with a stare and tucked her chin, her answer all too clear in the chastising arch of her brow.
“Forget I asked,” he’d said, before making his way out of the kitchen.
Now, meeting the eager, new detective sergeant outside his office door, Jasper questioned if other people had noticed the way he looked at Leo. Constance certainly had.
“What do you have for me, Warnock?”
The young man followed him into his office. “Two hansom companies are registered in London with the wordBestin them: London Best Carriage and Frank’s Best Livery and Cab.”
“Good. Look into them. Miss Spencer mentioned the cab appeared dated. You have her description of the interior?”
Warnock nodded. “I’d like to check into Frank’s Best first. There was something I noticed with that one when Sergeant Brooks gave me the files.”
Jasper arched a brow, waiting for him to go on.
“It’s registered to a Francis Green,” he said. “Yesterday, I heard Sergeant Lewis say the server who ran off after the murder at Sir Eamon’s home was Philip Green. I wondered if there is a relation.”
“Excellent work, Warnock,” he said, impressed. It could be something indeed. “Take Price with you.” Two men would make quicker work, and if either Francis or Philip Green wasconnected to the masked thieves, he didn’t want to send the sergeant in alone.
Shortly after Warnock and Price left the Yard, a wire came in that noted a sapphire necklace matching the description of one stolen from the benefit dinner had been located at a jeweler near Picadilly Circus. However, when Jasper arrived there to question the proprietor, he was told an old widow who had fallen on hard times had pawned it. The piece had been a gift from her late husband, and she’d parted with it tearfully. Jasper examined the necklace, and while it looked like one that had been worn by a woman at the dinner—the woman flirting with Commissioners Danvers and Fraser—he couldn’t be certain. Besides, he was looking for men who had pawned jewelry, not old widows.
Annoyed, he returned to the Yard in time to update Chief Inspector Coughlan, who had not been pleased that another body had been found in connection with the benefit dinner robbery and initial murder. His instruction to Jasper to make some headway, fast, had not been helpful in the least. He had held his tongue and prepared to go out to Marylebone to try the Blicksons’ home again. However, before he could put on his hat, two visitors arrived to see him: Mrs. Paula Blickson and her cousin, Mr. Felix Goodwin.
Jasper welcomed them into his office, taking note of Mrs. Blickson’s mourning dress. A brimmed hat with a veil obscured her face, though the lacy tatting was sheer enough to provide him with a view of her features. She was pretty, with dark hair and eyes, thick, black lashes and eyebrows, and a striking mole on the side of her right cheek.
“My servants informed me that you had stopped in yesterday, Inspector,” she said as she took a seat, clutching a black lace handkerchief in her hand. She did not provide any excuse for where she’d been.
Leo had failed to mention the cousin, Felix, in her report. He, too, was dressed somberly, though the black suit was a little snug for his tall, athletic frame. Jasper guessed it was not his own but one that had been borrowed.
“Thank you for coming in, Mrs. Blickson.” He had not left any request for her to do so; she’d taken it upon herself, it seemed.
Felix Goodwin settled into the chair next to his cousin. “My mother informed us that a woman had stopped by her rooms yesterday. She claimed to have been sent by Scotland Yard.”
Jasper clenched his molars. It was precisely what he’d hoped Leo would not say, but apparently,unofficial capacitymeant something different to the stubborn woman.
“I authorized Miss Spencer to call on Mrs. Goodwin,” he said, grateful that no one else was in his office right then. “However, I do have questions for you, Mrs. Blickson, regarding your mother. My condolences,” he added when the young woman reached underneath her veil to touch the lace hankie to her nose.
“Thank you, Inspector. I wasn’t close with her,” she admitted. “But I find what happened horrific.”
Witnessing it certainly had been, Jasper thought, though he kept that to himself.
“You were extended an invitation to the orphanage benefit dinner,” he began. “But you chose not to attend.”
Mrs. Blickson lowered her hankie. “I couldn’t stomach the thought of celebrating that awful place.”
“It was unconscionable of them to ask my cousin,” Felix said, his voice low and gruff. He grasped Mrs. Blickson’s hand, which was resting on the arm of the chair, as if to show support. “How could they think she would look back upon her time there with happiness and gratitude?”
