Dear Edwina…
* * *
The gentleman was more optimistic than he’d been for several days by the time he left Bow Street.Even though an unfortunate interference on Kendrick’s part meant that Gabriella would no longer serve as the gentleman’s unwitting informant.Apparently, Kendrick didn’t approve of his wife discussing cases with anyone not directly involved.No matter who that person might be.
Nevertheless, the gentleman was glad to learn that Lady Edwina was safe.According to the Kendricks, she’d recently been returned to her brother’s care.By Croft, of all people.
Apparently the gentleman had underestimated Croft’s involvement in securing her safety.His ability to do so without any seeming engagement while simultaneously dealing with the birth of his daughter and subsequent fire proved he was made for this kind of work.
Would his father have been proud of him?The gentleman wondered.
George Croft had lacked his son’s ability to sympathize with others.He’d kept other criminals in check solely by securing his own interests.The threat of blackmail he’d held over anyone of importance had greased the wheels of his operation and kept him out of prison.
But he’d been cruel and ruthless, not just in the way his son seemed to be.
The gentleman liked this change.It made him feel better about his own choices, like the decision he’d made to sacrifice Evelyne Croft.Her death had not been for nothing, but had helped save numerous other lives while also shining a light on deplorable members of the peerage.
On this thought, the gentleman climbed into his awaiting carriage and set off for home.It was time to celebrate the successful conclusion to a difficult case with a glass of brandy in his study.
34
Darkness had settled over London by the time Adrian entered The Toothless Cat tavern.Six days had passed since the fire.Five, since Samantha had given O’Leary what he deserved.
Adrian and his associates had not been in contact during the ensuing days, just in case the authorities were watching.The last thing Adrian wanted right now was for Bow Street to figure out who his allies were.
A legitimate concern since Kendrick had already come to call on Adrian thrice.Elks had informed him on each occasion that Adrian wasn’t at home.
He now wondered how much longer he could avoid the chief constable.
A problem he’d deal with later, after he met with Simmons.The man’s insistence they speak and risk being seen together defied their agreement.And could therefore only mean that the matter Simmons wished to discuss was of the utmost urgency.
Adrian scanned the crowded taproom, spotted Simmons’s slim silhouette, and approached the corner in which he sat.
“What’s the problem?”Adrian asked after sliding into a vacant chair.A serving girl approached but Adrian waved her off.He’d no intention of staying long enough to enjoy a drink.
Simmons leaned toward him and folded his arms on the table.“Never said there was a problem.Just that we should meet.”
“This better be important,” Adrian hissed.“My skin is already starting to itch at the notion of us being seen together.”
“You think Bow Street has their eyes on you?”Wariness settled on Simmons’s face.He swept the room with his gaze.
“I took precautions,” Adrian assured him, “but there’s a reason why I wanted us to keep our distance from each other for a while.”
As it was, Simmons was likely the worst person Adrian could be caught with right now.The man was Doctor Fellowes’s assistant at the Saint George’s Hospital morgue, so Kendrick would probably know him by sight.In which case he’d wonder at Adrian’s reason for meeting with him like this, if he or one of his Runners saw them together.Worse, it could lead Bow Street straight to the bodies of O’Leary’s men, though hopefully not to O’Leary himself.
“Your concern has merit.It’s the reason I didn’t stop by the house.”Simmons’s cool gaze held Adrian’s.As though reading his thoughts, he said, “Rest assured, no one will ever find that Irishman’s remains.However… This may interest you.”
Simmons produced a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket pocket.He handed it to Adrian, who initially frowned at the unfamiliar script that greeted him as he read the contents, at the formality of what appeared to be a document addressed to Barclay and Tritton, instead of an actual letter.
And then understanding crashed through him.
His mouth fell open and that terrible yawning sensation of no longer standing on solid ground made gooseflesh erupt across his back.He looked to Simmons, his fingers gripping the paper while trying to make sense of what he’d just learned.“Where did you get this?”
“Went through the Irishman’s pockets, didn’t I?When I saw what that was, I thought you might want to know.”
“Of course.”Adrian shoved the paper into his own jacket pocket.“You were right.Thank you.”
Simmons answered with a small nod and Adrian stood.It didn’t take long for him to exit the inn or to hail a hackney.His thoughts remained in turmoil during the twenty minutes it took him to reach St.James’s Square.
