Their cab had crossed Battersea Bridge and now drove along the Chelsea Embankment, the horizon over the Thames bluing rapidly.
“I don’t know. I left straightaway for the Kennington station to contact Scotland Yard and to organize a search party,” he answered. “But this man, the one who did all the talking—I saw that he was left-handed too. Was anything else revealed when they had you in the coach?”
His arm flexed and relaxed around her shoulders as he visibly worked to hold in his ire.
“Killing Mrs. Seabright wasn’t part of the original plan,” Leo said, recalling the shorter masked man who’d started to removehis head covering. “The other men were upset that someone was killed.”
She thought of the other things she’d noticed, such as the long scar on the shorter man’s hand and the paint-chipped brass plate on the interior wall of the coach with the wordBeststill visible. But with the rattle and sway of the cab, the heat burrowing into her bones and driving out the cold, and Jasper’s solid arm around her, her eyelids began to droop. Perhaps it would be better to wait until tomorrow to give her statement after all.
Her eyes had been closed for several moments when Jasper’s warm palm grazed her cheek. Parting her lashes, Leo acknowledged that they were huddled close. Close enough so that if he lowered his head a few scant inches, he could bring his mouth to hers again.
Countless times over the last many weeks, Leo had pored over the memory of that kiss, mining it for every detail, no matter how small. Now, she allowed her eyes to drift over his lips. If he were to lean forward and kiss her in the cab, she would let him.
But he didn’t.
“Tell me the rest tomorrow,” he said, still cupping her cheek gently.
He turned away, facing forward to watch the road ahead.
The cab wended through the empty streets quickly, and within a half hour, they arrived on Duke Street. The windows of her home were dark. It was a startling thought that she could have been through so much overnight while Claude and Flora slept peacefully, totally unaware.
“I don’t have my key,” she said. Her handbag and wrap had been taken at the door of the chief coroner’s home.
Jasper helped her to the pavement, and together, they walked to the front door. Leo brought down the knocker.Although it was nearing dawn, she still felt guilty waking her uncle from his slumber.
As they waited, Jasper said, “I’ll send a messenger to Quinn. He was worried about what would become of you when I last saw him at Sir Eamon’s home.”
“Oh.” Leo blinked, surprised at herself. She hadn’t thought of Connor once during her ordeal. “That’s thoughtful of you.”
The unbolting of the locks on the door sounded, and then her uncle was peering out at them in utter confusion. “What in the—Leonora, what has happened? Inspector?”
“I’m perfectly fine, Uncle,” she preempted. “I’ll tell you everything once I get into some dry clothes.”
She slid out from under Jasper’s suit jacket and handed it back to him. He folded it over his arm, then, with a departing nod, returned to the waiting cab.
“My dear?” Claude said, as she went inside, and closed the front door. He rarely frowned, as he was doing right then. “I am not going to like this tale, am I?”
“I’ll meet you in the kitchen. You’d best make some tea,” she replied as she climbed the stairs, dreaming of a warm nightdress, robe, and slippers. “And Uncle? Make sure you add a splash of whisky.”
Chapter Four
Jasper hadn’t bothered with sleep after delivering Leo home at the brush of dawn. The hellish night had left his mind racing, and as he’d arrived at 23 Charles Street, where Mrs. Zhao had already risen to prepare breakfast, he’d abandoned any hope of rest.
His eyes burned as he left his house just before eight o’clock. Though his head ached from the plaguing memory of Leo being hastened away at the point of a gun—and the older woman who’d been brutally shot in her seat—Jasper was not distracted enough to overlook the fact that he was being followed.
The man had been waiting at the corner of Charles Street and St. James’s Square. Jasper gave no indication that he’d seen him. From the corner of his eye, he saw the man fall into step behind him. Three days ago, the same man had been lingering outside Scotland Yard, smoking a pipe and reading a newspaper. The burnt-orange color of his bowler hat was just uncommon enough to stick out in a crowd. Several other times over the last handful of weeks, a prickling sense of being watched had crawled along Jasper’s shoulders and up the back of his neck ashe went about his day. Easy to brush off once, maybe twice, but not more than that.
Jasper turned onto Haymarket and swung a casual glance over his shoulder. The orange-hatted man was there, though far behind. As he continued, hands in his pockets, Jasper contemplated a response. The man was clearly keeping tabs, perhaps reporting back to someone about his movements.
Was he someone Jasper had arrested in the past? Some ex-convict seeking retribution? Or perhaps the man was a private detective. Though who would have hired him to tail Jasper, and why?
He reached Whitehall Place, where a costermonger was set up, hawking sausage rolls as he did every morning. Pausing at the cart, Jasper took another look back the way he’d come. The orange-hatted man wasn’t anywhere to be seen. His jaw ticking in annoyance, Jasper paid the costermonger and took the sausage roll into Scotland Yard. Tension coiled through him as he made his way to the detective department. He would figure out what to do about his unwanted shadow later, but right now, the events of last night were more important.
“Reid,” Detective Chief Inspector Dermot Coughlan barked from the entrance to his office. He signaled for Jasper to join him. The chief inspector’s office, along with Jasper’s had been destroyed in the May bombing, but reconstruction had been swift. Jasper shut the door behind him.
“I’m glad to hear Miss Spencer was found unharmed,” Coughlan began. Though he wasn’t fond of Leo or her involvement in some of Jasper’s past cases, he wasn’t malicious and would never wish harm on her. That probably couldn’t be said for a few of the other officers in the Criminal Investigation Department.
“She made some observations about the suspects last night that might prove useful,” Jasper replied. “I’ll get her statement today.”
