“When will you begin?” she asked.
“Tonight.”
I wanted to go to Charing Cross as soon as possible to see what I might be able to learn from the place where Ellie Sutton was murdered.
“Where will you stay while you investigate this nasty business? You can hardly return to the town house. Abberline has quite the reputation when pursuing things.”
Yes, I was aware. I had shared with her about Rupert’s midnight adventure.
“Wait...” she suddenly said.
A message from Wills? She did have that look about her, as if staring off at something over my shoulder.
“You absolutely cannot stay at the office either. Wills is most adamant about it.”
Oh dear. Not that I believed it. I wasn’t one to call the man a liar. And the truth was that the office might very well be on Abberline’s list of places to look for Brodie. It made sense.
“I know the perfect place,” Templeton announced. “It’s nearby, a flat used by one of the actresses who usually appears in the afternoon short plays.
It seemed that the young woman was presently away for a time.
“A man she has been seeing proposed to her,” she continued. “He wants her to give up the theater. They had a falling-out over the issue and she decided some time away was called for. She left for Paris and the flat is empty. No one would ever think to look for you there.
“The landlady is quite used to theater people coming and going so there should be no difficulty from that quarter. And I’m certain there is no problem having the hound with you.” She retrieved a key from her dressing room table and handed it to me.
“Sophie left this with me in case she should need me to send her anything she might have forgotten, or decides to stay longer in Paris.”
That certainly did not bode well for the marriage proposal.
Templeton provided a carpet bag for the clothes. I quickly stowed them away. She hugged me as I thanked her and stood to leave.
“You must be very careful,” she warned.
“Of course,” I replied.
I found a cab for the short ride to the office on the Strand.
Mr. Cavendish paddled out from the alcove, a club in his hand. He lowered a club he had been holding when he sawRupert and then myself. He lowered the club when he saw Rupert.
Brodie had not returned. Still, there were others who had been there, just as Wills had predicted. Score one more for the bard.
“The bloody peelers,” Mr. Cavendish said. “Kicked in the door and had their way with the place while I was out and about. The office is a mess. Miss Effie came over earlier and cleaned up a bit, and I had a man in to repair the lock.” He grinned.
“Somethin’ new for him—he’s usually breaking into a place, not locking up. He left a new key.” He handed it to me.
“They’re lookin’ for Mr. Brodie and anything or anyone that might tell them where he is. You need to be careful, miss.”
It was amazing how diligent Abberline could be when it served his own purposes.
I was aware that in the past Mr. Cavendish might perhaps have done some things that could possibly put him afoul of the police. Minor issues to be certain, but I reminded him that he needed to be careful as well.
He nodded. “I’ll be stayin’ at the Public House for now. The owner has a particular dislike for the police.”
And perhaps with Miss Effie, I thought. There did seem to be something there, as she was always providing him and Rupert with food, and made certain the door to the storage room at the back of the Public House was open for them when the weather set in.
“Whatever Mr. Brodie is about, that one is determined to find him. And he wouldn’t hesitate to use you as well, if you get my meanin’.”
I did.
