Killian trailed two older gentlemen into a billiard room. Instead of following the men to the crowded table, he drifted to a dark corner. Drake removed a cheroot from his pocket. He used a candle to light the fragrant cigar.
‘Did the French give us any information?’ Killian asked.
Drake puffed several times before answering. ‘Three women have been discovered so far. Two in Calais and one in Boulogne. All of them in caskets. All of them dead. But based on the marks inside the coffins, they were alive when the sick bastard nailed them in. The French don’t know what to make of it.’
‘All three women were from England?’
Drake shook his head. ‘The caskets were abandoned, so there is no way to know for certain what ships brought them to France. But their government believes they originated from London. The bodies were in advanced stages of decay. Impossible to identify. But they were all young, somewhere between thirteen and twenty.’ He winced. ‘The similarities to Sarah Bright’s case can’t be ignored.’
‘Fuck.’
‘Yes. Exactly.’
‘Is it possible they aren’t connected?’ Killian knew the answer, but he wanted Drake to confirm his suspicions.
‘Anything is possible. But it stretches the imagination to think four dead girls, all found in caskets, all alive when they were nailed in, are not somehow connected.’
Killian nodded. ‘Did Prime Minister Russell give us any instructions?’
‘Yes.’ Drake puffed on his cheroot. ‘Find the killer. Fast. Apparently, the Lord High Chancellor has a vested interest in the outcome. He fears it will further strain our relationship with France. He is putting significant pressure on Russell to find the responsible party.’
‘There could be more than one killer, maybe working together. With this many dead girls found in two different countries, we might have multiple murderers.’
‘Or one very depraved soul. I don’t know. Because Sarah Bright is the one body we can identify, she’s our best lead. I spoke with her family.’ Drake angled his body away from Killian to watch the men at the billiard table.
‘Without me?’
‘You were busy chasing the skirts of a femme fatale.’
‘I was going to follow up with the Bright family. If Miss Simmons hadn’t interrupted me that night, I would have already interviewed them.’ He hated feeling incompetent. Drake should not have had to complete the task assigned to Killian.
Drake waved Killian’s excuses away with his cigar smoke. ‘And if gold coins spilled out of the Devil’s arse, I’d be a rich man.’
‘A delightful metaphor.’
Drake smiled. ‘Thank you.’
Killian tried to shrug off the weight of his guilt. ‘Did they tell you anything?’
‘Yes.’
He took a steadying breath, the smoke and whiskey makinghis stomach churn. ‘Damn it, man. Stop being so elusive and tell me.’
Drake’s laughter scraped against Killian’s nerves like sand against skin. ‘That’s the rub. They told me I should ask Miss Simmons. She promised to kill the man responsible for Sarah’s death. Sarah’s parents aren’t talking to anyone else.’
‘I told you. Miss Simmons is much more than she seems.’
‘Or she is just a woman making promises she can’t keep. A common occurrence with the fairer sex in my experience. It doesn’t alter the fact that we know bugger-all about any possible leads.’
‘Shit.’
‘You’ve said that already.’
‘Fuck.’
‘You’ve said that too. Their son did say something to me when I was leaving.’
‘What’s that?’ Killian could only imagine.
