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Chapter Fifteen
Quinn helped the two women down from the hack, his emotions rioting in his chest. He’d shared more than he’d meant to on the ride over to Mercy House, but neither Miss Fields nor Allison had seemed shocked. He realized he’d been hiding his past for so long he felt naked revealing it. He wasn’t really certain he believed that Allison actually wanted to get to know him, but so far, she’d done nothing to prove her intentions were anything less than genuine. And there had been a moment when he’d looked up and caught her staring at him with undisguised longing...
The four of them mounted the steps of Mercy House, and moments later, Lucy let them in. “Good afternoon,” she said, seeming a bit flustered. She obviously hadn’t been expecting them.
“Good afternoon,” Allison said brightly. “I thought I’d come and see how you and the rest of the girls are faring after everything that happened.”
Lucy ushered them into the parlor, where a few of the women were relaxing. Two were reading, and two played some sort of card game at a small table in the corner. The picture of wholesome domestic bliss they portrayed was undoubtedly what Allison had been hoping for.
“Anise, go and fetch some tea,” Lucy commanded as Heather and Allison took seats on the sofa in front of the fire.
No more seats remained in the small room, so Quinn turned to Lucy. “I’m going to go upstairs to Polly’s room and have another look around.”
Lucy nodded, though she didn’t meet his gaze. It must be difficult to live in a house where something so terrible had happened. He suddenly felt he should say something to her and the rest of the women.
“Thank you all for coming down to the station and giving your statements,” he told the room at large. “How are you all holding up? Has anything else happened that’s given you cause for concern?”
Lucy sighed and shook her head. “I think we’re all doing fine. We’re still a little worried about Daisy, though. No one’s seen hide nor hair of her since Polly’s murder.”
Quinn nodded. “I’ve got men looking for her. When we find her, we’ll let you know she’s all right.” Or not all right, he supposed, though he really thought she was just lying low.
He locked eyes with Belle, but she didn’t seem to have anything she wanted to say to him because she immediately looked back down at her book.
Satisfied that he’d given them a chance to tell him anything they needed to, he headed up the stairs toward Polly’s room.
The door was shut, which wasn’t surprising. When he entered, he was pleased to smell lemon wax and lavender instead of the horrible stench that had been present the last time he was here.
All the linens had been stripped off the bed, and it appeared the mattress had been replaced with a new one. They probably hadn’t been able to get the blood out of the original. He crossed the room and ran his fingertips across the spot where Polly’s head had been. Frightening, really, how such a gruesome crime could be erased. Anyone coming into this room right now would never guess a brutal murder had happened here such a short time ago.
Someday soon, another young girl would probably occupy this bed. Would Polly’s ghost haunt her, or had Polly truly gone to a better place?
He sighed and looked around, trying once more to unravel the sequence of events. How had the killer gotten in? If the doors were locked downstairs, Polly would have almost certainly have had to have let him in.
Walking over to the lone window in the room, he found that it looked down upon the alley behind the house. Had the killer somehow gotten her attention from down below? If so, then perhaps she’d gone down and opened the door for him despite all of Allison’s rules forbidding such a thing.
Which meant she wasn’t afraid of him. He was someone she knew.
Had she been using her room here at Mercy House to entertain customers all along, or had this man been special in some way? Perhaps only because he’d been wealthy. A member of the Viper Club.
Quinn went over to the dresser where the snuffbox had been found. Had Polly and the killer talked for a while before he’d committed the crime, or had he overpowered her as soon as he entered the room? Quinn walked around on the floorboards, finding that they creaked quite a bit. But this was an old house, filled with women. Would creaking floorboards have alerted anyone? Probably not. The women here probably heard people moving around in other rooms all night.
“Who killed you?” he asked into the empty room.
But if Polly’s ghost still lingered, she didn’t answer.
* * *
ALLISON BREATHED A quiet sigh of relief as Quinn left her in the parlor with Heather and went upstairs to reexamine Polly’s room. Though she’d wanted him to come with them today, she hadn’t thought ahead to how the women would feel to have him here while she talked to them. He exuded such authority, which was not conducive to getting these women to open up to her.
“Are any of the other girls around today?” she asked Lucy. “I’d like to talk to as many of you as I can.”
Lucy nodded and turned to a hard-looking blonde woman who sat in the window seat reading. “India, can you go upstairs and round up everyone who’s home today?”
Since it was a Sunday, some of the women were undoubtedly out visiting relatives or partaking in some of London’s other entertainments. Still, Allison hoped that at least half of them would be here to contribute to the discussion.
A few minutes later, Anise brought out a tray filled with tea and biscuits, and Heather and Allison indulged in that while they waited for the rest of the girls to join them.
Soon, the room was filled to the brim. Seven of the girls were there, including Lucy. Allison looked around at each of their faces, which had become very dear to her. “Hello, Belle, Anise, India, Mary, Sue, and Rebecca.” She made contact with each of them as she said their names.
