Leaving Julien and his Russian guests to distract the son from his grief with music, Dora, Jacob and Jane ventured out onto Queen Anne Street.
‘I do not appreciate being hunted like a rabbit,’ said Jane, glancing up and down the street, looking as if she expected a runaway carriage to come bowling in their direction. It was empty, the shadows cast by the railing shortening as the sun climbed to noon.
‘Then I suggest we dive into a burrow and consider who the fox might be,’ said Jacob, offering her his arm. He held out the other to Dora.
‘Any suggestions as to where we might go?’ asked Dora.
‘Gunter’s?’ suggested Jane hopefully.
‘No!’ said Dora and Jacob in unison, alarming the writer.
‘Why? Is there a problem with that establishment?’
‘Only with the gossipers who frequent it,’ said Dora. ‘And besides, it is a longish walk from here.’
‘There is another coffee house that I have been longing to try,’ said Jane. ‘Eliza is very partial to it, due to her early years in Madras.’
‘Where is it?’ asked Jacob.
‘George Street. Is that close by?’
‘Ah, I know it– and it is. An excellent suggestion as we are very unlikely to be followed into the coffee house and will spot our hunters soon enough if they lurk outside. It’s a quiet area of town. Dora, you are in for a treat.’
Anything to be out of danger, thought Dora.
The establishment announced itself as the Hindoostane Coffee House. Carved sandalwood shutters and drapes of cotton chintz gave the front windows an oriental appearance in this row of ordinary town houses. The waiter showed them into a private room as befitting ladies, though the main room was almost empty with only a few old Company men playing chess in the window. Dora admired the prints of elephants and palanquins as Jacob ordered coffee and tea for the table. The waiter retreated.
‘Is anyone going to try the culinary fare?’ Jacob asked, scanning the menu chalked up on the board.
Dora was intrigued by the unfamiliar names for the offerings. ‘Everything is served with rice, not potatoes? And all the dishes are spicy?’
‘Cayenne pepper, curry powder, cardamon, cumin, turmeric– Eliza says that English cuisine is very tame compared to the meals she ate as a little girl,’ said Jane. ‘Now we are here, I will try the mildest. No good leaping into the deepest part of the menu without wetting my toes first and seeing if I can swim.’
‘How on earth does an Hindoostane coffee house end up in Marylebone?’ asked Dora, in wonder. She had thought she would have to travel to find such a thing. The scents from the kitchen were intriguing, none of the hot grease, bacon and bread smells of an ordinary tavern.
‘It is owned by Captain Mohamed of the Bengal Army,’ said Jacob. ‘A brave man, thinking he can make a go of it here.’
‘Plenty of us have family who have been to India and who return with their taste buds ruined for milder fare. I wish him luck,’ said Jane. ‘But I also wish to try the tandoor chicken.’
With their order given, the three investigators sat back and enjoyed the peace of the private room, each lost in their own thoughts.
Three women on the way home from market passed by with full baskets and reminded Dora that the morning was wearing away.
‘Where does the case stand?’ she asked. ‘What have we learned so far?’
‘I must admit I find it very perplexing. My brother thought he was only asking for you to uncover the background to the murder, not to awaken danger again.’ Jane sniffed her tea. ‘Hmm, interesting. Oolong– I rather liked the name.’ She sipped. ‘And I like the savour.’
Jacob poured his coffee, seemingly delighted by the wickedly dark colour. ‘I believe we can rule out a private motive for the murders. There is no suggestion that Lorenzo was enamoured of thecomtesse. As for money, Julien is the only one who stood to inherit and he is worse off without his father’s income as an informer for the government.’
‘His grief is genuine. He wasn’t acting when he was overcome with emotion remembering them,’ said Dora. She had felt sorry for the man. What would he do now with an empty title and only the glimmerings of musical talent, nothing in the class of his mother, the opera star?
‘There is one good thing about the attacks,’ said Jacob.
‘I cannot think such violence bears any good fruit,’ said Jane.
‘Oh, but it does, Miss Austen. We know they are after something that is written down– letters or a report, as that is what they took from your room.’
‘Actually, Jacob,’ contradicted Dora, ‘I think they are also trying to scare us off pursuing this any further. Alex and I worked that out after the attack last night. There was nothing to gain from that but putting us out of action.’
