But more importantly, it was also an end and brought closure for the families of the young women who had been murdered.
It was all there in the report he had written and given to Sir Avery, and then the rest of it they had learned afterward as the pieces of the puzzle, as Mikaela referred to the case, finally came together.
There had been years of abuse as the son had been shunned, even feared, due to his size and habit of grunting a response, then becoming frustrated when people didn’t understand, and he had lashed out physically, even dangerously.
The photographer sought to protect him, refusing to send him to one of the asylums in London, and Brodie couldn’t find a reason to argue the decision having briefly seen the inside of one of the places when caught stealing when he and Munro first arrived in London.
The daughter, Sara, younger by two years, had become her brother’s keeper and protector. She was well educated and had sought ways that he might behealedof the affliction, although she was eventually told there was no cure for something he had very likely been born with.
Paul Laughton, the photographer, had been highly successful and had received a royal warrant. He was also accepted at the Wimbledon Club where he had taken that photograph of the club team.
His daughter, quite accomplished in the sport of lawn tennis, might have been the fifth woman in the photograph if not for her father submitting their resignation from the club after the actions of her brother.
It was not the first time there were issues, as the young man struggled with a disability that he could never overcome. In the aftermath of the damage to the courts, the photographer withdrew his membership as his son had become too dangerous.
The situation had been painful, the young man’s dangerous actions an equally painful reminder that there were those who would never accept him.
It became a motive for revenge against the members of the club and their families, and an obsession for revenge that bordered on madness. The photographs, taken by the daughter, were a way of striking back.
It was a sad outcome, and Brodie supposed the argument could be made that Sir John Mainwaring, Sir William Strachan, and the other gentlemen of the club perhaps shared some responsibility in what had happened.
Whatever their thoughts in the matter when he and Mikaela had called on each family to tell them the case had been solved, he knew well enough it was something they would have to live with.
“There is still Mr. Abberline,” he commented. “He will want to know the facts.”
Sir Avery nodded. “I will have Alex make a copy of your report and see that he receives it.” He looked over at Brodie.
“Well done. And Miss Forsythe? She is quite well?”
Brodie nodded with a faint smile. “Well enough and interviewing tutors at present.”
“Tutors?”
“The girl, Lily. She has taken her on as her ward and is determined to see her educated.”
Sir Avery chuckled. “Having met the young woman and Lady Forsythe, they seem much alike. That should be most interesting.”
Interesting?
Not the word he had used, but it would do. It would most certainly be that, and more.
“Will that be all, sir?” he asked, rising from the chair.
Sir Avery nodded. “You will need time to heal from the ordeal,” he commented. “A few days at least, and then I may have something for you. And Lady Forsythe, of course.”
Brodie nodded with a half-smile.
“I was thinking a bit more than a few days…”
Sir Avery nodded. “Take the time you need. Contact me when you’re ready to proceed. You are needed out there, Mr. Brodie.”
More than a few days, Brodie thought, as he took the stairs and left the Tower offices of the agency.
He walked to High Street, signaled for a driver, then gave the man the address when he pulled to the curb.
“Sussex Square.”
It was well into autumn now, frost on the window ledges and trees as they left the hustle of the city behind and approached that stately part of London with houses and manors, some that were several hundred years old.
