“Then the answer is, perhaps, perhaps not.”
I was aware that Brodie had a certain hesitation where Sir Avery was concerned. It had been glaringly obvious during the matter of our previous inquiries in Scotland in the matter of his mother’s murder some years before. Most particularly in the matter of a “reliable source” of information.
It was apparent that Brodie remembered that incident quite well.
“It is as reliable as the information acquired by Sholto McQueen.”
That brought Sir Avery’s head up.
“An unfortunate situation. Mr. McQueen had proven to be a reliable source in the past.”
The man ended up dead in an attempt to play both ends against the middle as the saying went— providing information to Sir Avery and thereby to Brodie at the same time he was taking payments from someone on the other side of the “unfortunate situation.”
I shifted in my chair, quite ready for the meeting to be at an end. I caught a look from Brodie, that subtle narrowing of that bruised gaze, and an almost imperceptible shake of the head.
“Precisely,” Brodie then replied. Sir Avery looked at me then.
“You will need to pursue your inquiries for the reasons we have already discussed. That coded message we intercepted came at a high price, a man’s life.
“Time is of the essence, particularly if we accept that your source’s sighting of Soropkin is correct. There is obviously more to this. And what the devil happened to you?” This was directed at Brodie.
“A brief encounter on the street,” he replied.
Avery looked at me then, dismissively. Not something I accepted well.
“It would appear, Miss Forsythe, that your inquiries on behalf of the doctor’s wife, are concluded. I will see that Dr. Bennett’s body is retrieved and his wife appropriately notified.”
I caught the warning look from Brodie. He did know me particularly well. However, warning, or no…
“Mrs. Bennett isourclient and deserving of our care.Iwill call upon her and tell her of her husband’s death. I’m certain you understand,” I informed him in my best imitation of my great-aunt when dealing with someone who had the misfortune to challenge her on some matter. She had been a source of great inspiration for most of my life.
With that I turned and left Sir Avery’s office and went in search of Alex Sinclair. I had questions about something Sir Avery had mentioned about that message that had been intercepted.
“Ye were a bit abrupt with Sir Avery,” Brodie commented when he found me in Alex’s office, discussing the reasons he couldn’t possibly show me that message.
“Although, he deserved it, and ye do have a way with words.”
I caught the undertone of approval.
“I thought it was perhaps better than dumping him to the floor. He’s a good deal like the Chief Inspector.”
Chief Inspector Abberline that is, with whom I had found myself at cross-purposes in the past. Not something I was going to forget or forgive, as it had been most serious.
“Noticed that, have ya?”
I heard the smile behind the words. I had missed that as well the last couple of weeks. We were both ignoring Alex. He cleared his throat to draw our attention.
Alex Sinclair was a most engaging young man with a shock of dark brown hair that was constantly falling across his forehead when he was excited about something. Most usually my young friend Lucy Penworth who also worked at the Agency.
“I haven’t been able to decipher this yet and it cut off at the end. I did try to re-establish communication, but without success.”
Brodie studied the message, a mix of letters and numbers.
“Sir Avery said to keep at it. But it’s not something I’ve seen before.”
“Nor would you be expected to,” Brodie told him.
“Can you make a copy of this?” I inquired. Brodie looked at me with more than a little surprise.
