Page 54 of The Detective and the Baroness

“I came out two hours ago and sent him home. He will tell Drew to wait up for me. So we should catch a hansom cab. They are about at all hours. Here comes one now.” Mitchell flagged it down, then assisted Corrine inside. Once seated, he took her gloved hand and laced his fingers through hers. She held tight.

“Poor Thomason. To come upon a murder scene, then find police tramping all through the house…. He told the police that Travis had insisted he take the night off.” Corrine shuddered. “And now, he has to oversee the cleanup, the poor man.” She gazed outside the window. “Why would Travis schedule his meeting when I had an appointment, and tell Thomason to take the night off, unless he wanted to be sure there would be no one around?”

“That is what it looks like—a private meeting that ended in murder and a possible robbery. I suppose it is up to Mahone and his men to track all leads. I have a feeling one of them might include a mysterious man in a hooded cloak.”

“So you believe the hooded man was meeting Travis tonight?”

“I do. He is at least the top suspect.”

“A terrible thought just came to me. My father. Maybe he confronted Travis over the loan!”

“I thought that as well, but I’m not sure your father is capable of killing someone. And the young man said his father left him. Unless your father has more children than you know of, I think it’s fair to say he wasn’t involved. Still, I’ll keep that information private for now, and tell Mahone about the loan soon.”

“You will continue to pursue this on your end, correct?” Corrine asked.

“I will. It’s possible the hooded man brought someone—his son?—with him as backup, and since the safe was opened, it involved money. A payoff? Blackmail? One possibility is that the baron had no intention of paying. He opened the safe, brought forth the revolver, and fired. He might not have had any idea the hooded man was armed, too. And the younger man must have got in the way. Or maybe the younger man did the shooting.” Mitchell exhaled wearily. “It might be wise for you to stay with Drew and me. The hooded man may still want money from the estate. And who else can he get it from than the widowed baroness?” At her stricken look, he added, “I am sorry to be so blunt. I don’t wish to frighten you.”

Corrine squeezed his hand. “No. I like it when you are honest with me and discuss everything. I want that to continue. We have to consider every possibility.”

“Exactly. We also have to consider the possibility that the hooded man may be Jedi Danaher.”

“Good heavens. What happens next?”

“We should visit the solicitor, Mr. Dobson, first thing tomorrow and find out the reason for all those visits to Addington. How long is your brother away for?”

“A week or more. He said he would send word when he returned. Oh, but I will not be at Wimpole Street, though I will keep the servants on the payroll until I know more. Thomason can send on any inquiries and correspondence.” Corrine laid her head against Mitchell’s shoulder. “I am so exhausted, yet also wound up inside. I’m not sure I can sleep tonight. The scene we came upon will haunt my dreams for the foreseeable future.”

Mitchell’s, as well. It was one of the bloodiest crime scenes he had ever come upon. Mahone had told him they’d dusted for prints, a relatively new procedure, but Mitchell figured it would not do much good. Still, one selfish thought filled his mind.

Corrine is free.

Free from her imprudent marriage and, hopefully, any financial obligations. It would depend on what they found in the will—if there was one. Would Addington be bitter enough to leave Corrine nothing at all or place a codicil, demanding the loan be paid in the event of his death? Or would he exclude her altogether? Surely not. Even if Addington left her no money, there was still the eighteen thousand pounds in Drew’s safe. Mahone knew nothing about that. Yet. Did they dare risk keeping it from the detective? All Mahone had to do was speak with Viscount Rothley, his son, Jeffery Edgeworth, or Mrs. Robson and he’d know the truth. Mitchell frowned. Perhaps he should have mentioned it after all. He would have to give it further consideration after they saw the solicitor.

“Who was that injured young man?” Corrine asked softly, interrupting his disturbed thoughts.

“It could be Danaher’s son. He said his ‘father’ left him. I read about him in the police reports. He was wanted for questioning concerning Danaher. The son wasn’t there the night I was shot, but he might have been involved in the abduction of Miss Claudia Ellingford. He fits the general description. Then again, it could just be an accomplice.”

“His own father deserted him. How heartless. But then, he killed Travis, so it is not surprising. I cannot quite accept Travis is gone.” Corrine let out a quivering breath. “I suppose we will have to wait until the accomplice regains consciousness and answers questions before we know of his identity.”

“If he awakens at all.” Mitchell pulled Corrine closer.

They remained silent during the trip to Gloucester Square. Mitchell saw lights blazing in the bottom flat when the hansom pulled up by the front door. As requested, Drew had waited up. After paying the cab driver, Mitchell opened the folding doors and assisted Corrine out, and to the house.

Drew greeted them. “Come into the parlor. I have a fire going and brandy at the ready.”

Once situated in the parlor, Drew passed the filled brandy snifters to Mitchell and Corrine. “Wright mentioned a crime scene, the police, and a body under a tarp being carried out. Addington?”

Corrine nodded as she swirled her brandy.

“I am sorry for your loss, Corrine.”

She gave Drew a wan smile, then motioned toward Mitchell. “Tell him what we came upon.”

Mitchell relayed a condensed version of the events. Drew’s eyebrows shot skyward more than once through the brief narrative. “My God. Corrine, I absolutely agree it would be best if you stayed here with us. In fact, I prepared the small flat for you. It was recently renovated and has a bedroom, water closet, sitting room, and a small kitchen with a gas cooker. You are welcome to stay as long as you wish. It’s rather cozy, if I say so myself.”

“Thank you so much. I will pay you,” Corrine answered, her voice wobbling. After sipping the warmed brandy, she placed the snifter on the table.

“At the end of the month. We will discuss terms later,” Drew replied kindly.