Page 67 of The Viscount of Shadows

Chapter 23

Jedi Danaher sat and brooded in a small room at the rear of the Black Moon Pub. Since the raid three days ago, he had moved about constantly, hiding in case the police returned to the area and tried to flush him out.

But they hadn’t. The coppers hadn’t discharged his men as yet, either. Because of that, Jedi did not dare head to the station to talk to his connection within the precinct.

He hated darting about like a rat, keeping to the shadows, but he had no choice until he had a handle on the particulars of the situation.

Cillian burst into the room. “I know who The Sentinel is.”

“Well, spit it out!”

“That copper, Detective Sergeant Simpson. The new bloke at the station.”

Jedi snorted skeptically. “Give over. Who told you that tale?”

Cillian sat opposite, laying his peaked cap on the table before him. “No one. I figured it out myself. Think about it. That copper just transferred in about the same time that masked nutter started showing up in Notting Dale. This Sentinel beat up Charlie and later rescued some nob walking along the street—right after Simpson’s arrival. And get this, he works a lot of night shifts.”

Jaysus.

Jedi recalled hearing of the attack on the man in the street. Unfortunately, the assault did not come from any of his men but from vagrants passing through Notting Dale to points unknown. So, there was no way to check up on the incident since it was hearsay instead of tangible information.

Back to his son’s declaration. Could it be the copper? What Cillian said made sense. But wait. “I sliced the Sentinel bloke good and proper. And yet, Simpson raids Notting Dale? Why? I saw him marching about, giving orders. He didn’t look incapacitated to me.” Jedi frowned. “Unless the man giving orders wasn’t Simpson at all. We need a good description of him. I will find out as soon as I can speak to my police contact.”

Cillian shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t slice him as bad as you thought. He’s injured enough that he can’t leap about buildings but well enough to work as a copper.”

Maybe. “So why raid Notting Dale?”

“To rescue Ellingford. That bitch said the coppers would come if we didn’t let her go. We had her in that room for hours. When she didn’t show up, the coppers swooped in. I will bet you she knows who The Sentinel is.”

Jedi rubbed his forehead, his usually agile mind trying to process this information. Some of the puzzle pieces clicked into place. Did Claudia know? Jedi could have sworn she told him the truth about not knowing the vigilante’s identity. But she was a clever piece, and no mistake. But if The Sentinel was Simpson, why rescue Claudia and not vice versa? Why would she come back to Notting Dale? Was it to follow some toff as she said?

“Remember, Charlie said he saw a red-haired woman bundled into a police wagon. Who else could it be but this Ellingford?” Cillian absently touched the gauze bandage on the side of his face. “And the night Charlie was attacked? That vigilante was seen running with a woman. What if it was Ellingford with another wig?”

“Still angry Claudia got a slice in?” Jedi cackled. Then he sobered. “When I spoke to Charlie about it earlier, he couldn’t say whether the masked eejit was with a woman. But good work, Cillian. I mean it. You’ve impressed me. Who knows, you may be right. On the other hand, it’s a lot of ‘ifs.’ Here’s what we do. Claudia said she worked for an investigative agency. Sniff around. You will find agency ads in the newspapers. See if any redheaded women work for them and report back.”

“Fair enough. And what about Simpson?”

“Leave him to me. I’ll find out what he looks like and go from there. When the men are released, we will post them at every street, alley, and courtyard.” Jedi paused. “Once they are posted, I want every toff who comes into my territory brought to me. There is some connection here, and I aim to find it.”

A copper as a vigilante?

It seemed absurd at first blush, but the more Jedi thought about it, the more it made sense. He had heard the oral history of vigilantes, especially in decades past. The vigilante group formed in Whitechapel in ’88 during the Jack the Ripper murder spree was one of the more recent ones. It seems strange that one pops up in Notting Dale. Maybe this detective couldn’t get his fellow coppers to enter Notting Dale, so he decided to police the area—anonymously.

In days past, Jedi often allowed his emotions to cloud common sense. Not this time. He would gather evidence before acting.

No one threatened him or his domain—police detective or not.

* * *

Oliver tapped on the connecting door and then entered. Claudia was packing her small case. Miss Callen had brought Claudia a carpetbag with clothing and other essentials yesterday.

Four days had passed since they were rescued from the cache, and although he was walking about, he still wasn’t quite fully recovered. Since the night they cuddled together in his bed, he and Claudia had not much opportunity to talk further.

He leaned against the wall. “I believe it best that you stay.”

Claudia turned to face him. “You are far too tempting and too much of a distraction.”

That statement gave him a little hope, at least. “I will not keep you here against your will, but what do you suppose Danaher is doing at this moment?”