“A woman?” he suggested.
It was a possibility, I thought, considering His Highness’s history with mistresses and otherarrangements for entertainmentthat were quite well-known.And perhaps someone whose name was not on that list His Highness had provided.
“A lady with a penchant for cigarettes, it would seem.” He picked up the remnant of one from a silver dish on the game table.
“The dark foreign kind. And one who prefers the color red.” He handed the stained cigarette butt to me.
“So, it would seem,” I replied.
It was most certainly possible that His Highness’s guests had included the current woman he favored. Or was it someone else with the unusual but not entirely unique habit of smoking a cigarette? Entertainment for the guests?
I handed the cigarette back to him, then made a note of it in my notebook. Brodie removed an envelope from his inside jacket pocket and tucked the cigarette inside.
Conversation continued to be limited to our observations, much as it was in the beginning of our partnership.
So be it, I thought. But there was something else along with it, something in those few words we exchanged, and his comments.
I wanted very much to speak with him about it, however it was very obvious by his responses that he did not wish to speak with me other than our observations about Sir Collingwood’s disappearance.
So here we were, quite literally ordered to work together in this new inquiry. But the wordtogether, somewhat of a misnomer.
I could have refused Sir Avery’s summons, and perhaps should have. Brodie’s coolness, almost indifference, was aggravating and painful.
However, Sir Avery had been most adamant. I had tried to explain it to Brodie before I left with Lily and my great-aunt for Africa months earlier. But he refused to listen. And now?
Men could be so obstinate, most particularly a Scot. They seemed to pride themselves on it.
I had experienced that before as well, but this was different, and I couldn’t help a twinge of uncertainty when I had always been most certain and in control of my emotions.
I continued to make my own observations, writing them in my notebook as I passed the other tables in the conservatory.
As I examined that chess game further, it was apparent that it had been well underway with several pieces captured by both players, while at another table dice had been the game of choice. At yet another table, a game of cribbage had taken place.
A silver salver sat at yet another small table with two chairs. It contained the remnants of a dark liquid that caught my attention. The contents were thick and smelled slightly sweet.
Brodie stopped me when I would have tasted it in an attempt to try to identify it. “Ye dinna want to do that. It’s opium,” he explained. “It’s been cooked down from seeds and quite potent.”
I was well aware of the presence of the drug in certain circles, particularly among the lower classes in the East End. And there were the usual rumors, of course, about it’s being found in some of those exclusive London men’s clubs.
From my experience during our inquiry cases, I knew that it was usually smoked in a pipe. Or in rare cases consumed as a pill, according to our friend Mr. Brimley, the chemist, those pills often prescribed for ladies with nervous complaints.
Opium had been banned some years before, yet that didn’t seem to end the availability or the demand. According to something Brodie had once said, smugglers simply found another way to bring it into the country out from under the eye of the authorities.
I returned the salver to the table, then made a note about the discovery.
“It seems that His Highness or at least some of his guests indulge,” I commented.
A gentleman’s gathering in the country for gambling, apparently at least one woman who was present, and otherentertainments,including illegal drugs.
Most interesting, but what did that tell us about Sir Collingwood’s disappearance?
We continued our separate inspections around the conservatory. The Prince had assured that everything was left the way it was that last night before it was discovered that Sir Anthony had disappeared and the other guests had departed.
Still, it was obvious that the servants, or someone, had straightened the room and I wondered what might have been removed.
All in the interest of protecting the reputation of those present? Or perhaps one particular person—the Prince of Wales?
I might have missed the telltale gleam if the late afternoon sunlight was not slanted just so through one of those arched windows: something on the floor between two chairs at the table. I pulled back one of the chairs and knelt to retrieve the item.
