I appreciated the vote of confidence; however, I wasn’t quite as confident as my great-aunt, in consideration of the few clues we had.
Was the murderer perhaps a spurned suitor as Charlotte Mallory planned her wedding to another? Or was it something else?
And what of Margaret Cameron’s death? With that rose that had been left on each body, it seemed obvious the two were connected. But how?
I was hopeful that Brodie might learn something from Daniel Eddington that could provide a clue, perhaps something Sir Mallory wasn’t aware of that might prove important.
Twelve
BRODIE
He arrivedat the offices of Sir Edward Mallory Esq. for the appointment he had requested with Daniel Eddington, who was a partner in the law office and had been the fiancé of Charlotte Mallory.
He gave no specific reason for the appointment, but had simply stated there were legal matters he needed to discuss, not far off the truth. He did not want to alarm Eddington by stating the actual reason, that he was a consultant for the Metropolitan Police. The clerk might have refused altogether to schedule the appointment. He had encountered that before and it just made things more difficult.
He checked the time on his pocket watch as he stepped down from the cab. He was somewhat early, but it gave him the opportunity to visually take in the Mallory office very near Hyde Park.
It was a brownstone in the Georgian design, as Mikaela called this particular building style, with tall windows that faced onto the street and a half-dozen steps that led to the mainentrance behind a wrought-iron fence. A brass nameplate beside the entrance announced that he had arrived at the offices of E. Mallory and Associates, Legal Consultants.
It was the sort of building with that discreet façade that spoke of success in the court, prestige, and money. Not the sort of representation that he could have afforded if those charges against him had not been dropped, courtesy of Sir Avery Stanton of the Special Services.
As he had learned long ago, wealth meant power, power meant success, and it seemed by that address and appearances that Sir Mallory had been very successful in his chosen profession as one of the most powerful lawyers in London.
The clerk at the front desk greeted him with a critical glance at his coat and an appropriately subdued expression, the sort he had seen countless times among those of the upper classes.
“You have an appointment, sir?”
Brodie nodded and gave his name. “Mister Eddington will be expecting me.”
“I will let him know that you have arrived,” the clerk curtly replied, then disappeared down the hall that led from the front entrance to a series of doors and a set of double doors at the end.
The interior of the offices gave off that same air of success and wealth, with thick carpet on the floor, gleaming dark wood furnishings that included the clerk’s large desk, and several overstuffed chairs of the sort at Lady Antonia Montgomery’s residence.
Two gentlemen sat in muted conversation beside a fireplace surrounded by wood-paneled walls lined with requisite framed portraits. One a likeness of Sir Mallory.
The others were older individuals, including one he recognized as the former prime minister from pictures in the dailies, and a more recent one of the current prime minister.The nameplate below the portrait gave his name, Sir Robert Gascoyne, as a former legal associate.
Wealth meant power.
It was a lesson he’d learned on the streets as a boy and never forgot in his time with the MET, and then in his private inquiries. People used their wealth for power.
And then there was Mikaela Forsythe, who contradicted everything he had learned about those of her station.
“Mr. Brodie?” The clerk had returned. “Mr. Eddington will see you now.”
He followed the clerk down that hallway with that thick carpet under his feet to one of those doors.
The clerk knocked and then showed him into the office of Daniel Eddington, who had recently been made a full partner in the prestigious law firm, according to Mikaela. No doubt in anticipation of his marriage to Charlotte Mallory, and then as a new member of the family. And now, that had all ended with the young woman’s death.
Mikaela didn’t know anything about Mr. Eddington, however, her great-aunt had ‘heard’ things around London regarding the man who was being introduced about the city as the heir to the Mallory legal firm.
“I’ve read his name mentioned connected to several cases,” Lady Antonia had mentioned. “Quite an ambitious young man, and heir apparent to the Mallory dynasty, as there was only the daughter and no son to inherit. Everything I have heard is that he is being molded in the manner of Sir Mallory.”
And according to her own solicitor, Sir Laughton, the young lawyer had acquired that same ruthless manner when presenting a case at court.
The office Brodie now entered was not large, but it spoke of that influence. And power? What did that tell him about the man who rose from behind that desk?
“Mr. Brodie, previously with the Metropolitan Police, now in the private inquiry business. I would usually say that it is a pleasure to meet you, however under the circumstances…” Eddington added. “I am not surprised by this visit. I am aware that you have spoken with Sir Mallory about this dreadful situation. Are you here in some official capacity?”
