That dark gaze narrowed on me. There was undoubtedly more he wanted to say, there usually was. However, under the circumstances, this was not the time or the place. Then, a sound from the hallway put an end to it.
We both went completely still.
“I told you it wasn’t nothin’. Yer hearin’ things,”a man’s voice came from across the hall.
Brodie pulled me behind him, then switched off the lamp.
The door nearby, possibly just across the hall, slammed shut once more. I slowly let out the breath I was holding.
“How did ye know I wasna some thief or the landlady?” he demanded. “Ye would have been in a fine situation then.”
He switched the lamp back on. So that I could see how angry he was?
“In the first place, the landlady didn’t hear me, and you’re the one making all the noise, bellowing for all the building to hear,” I pointed out.
“And in the second place, a thief wouldn’t have locked the door behind him. He would have left it unlocked to make it easy for him to escape.” I gave him a long look. “You locked it behind yourself…?”
“So that no one would come in while I was here without some warning.”
It made sense—no surprises, such as the neighbor across the hall.
“I wasna expecting someone to pick the lock. It is clear that it was a mistake to teach ye such things.”
Of course, dear, I thought, then asked, “What are you doing here? Didn’t you think that it might be dangerous to come back?”
“I had no opportunity to look for anything that night that might provide a clue who murdered Ellie…the young woman. Wot are ye doin’ here and dressed like a common worker?”
“The very same,” I hissed back at him. “Since you disappeared and I refuse to believe that you had anything to do with her murder.”
“Ye try a man’s soul, Mikaela Forsythe. It’s not as if there isna enough to worry about.”
“Then I suggest, we get started before someone overhears you. Now, what are we looking for?” I asked.
It was obvious that the constables who were first called to the building the night Ellie Sutton was murdered would have found a weapon, if one was found and taken in for evidence.
“Anything that might tell me who did this,” Brodie replied. “A letter, or note she might have received, anything out of the ordinary.
There was something in his voice, something almost sad.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know,” I pointed out and thought of what Alex Sinclair had shared with me.
Ellie Sutton had apparently made the decision to return to London even knowing the risk. But for what reason?
“I couldna protect her.”
There was more. I heard it in his voice, but he didn’t say anything more about that night. Or before.
“What about the boy?” I asked.
He looked at me then with more than a little surprise.
“It was in the article in the daily about the murder.”
He eventually nodded. “He’s safe.”
Just those two words as he started to search the flat with the meticulous attention to detail of the investigator looking for clues. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to share anything more.
Anything out of the ordinary.
