I made coffee, then dressed, as there was still sufficient time to return to Mayfair before setting off for Belgravia, where the florist shop was located. I sipped coffee as I studied the chalkboard and the information Brodie had added.
I trusted his experience, and it did seem that Mr. Carney might very well be the connection we were looking for.
By the time I was ready to leave, the rain had let up, and Mr. Cavendish appeared on the sidewalk.
“Do you want to take the hound along, miss?” he inquired.
I glanced past him to where Rupert lay in the alcove, head resting on the stones at the entrance, the rest of him still inside.
“He obviously needs the rest,” I replied.
“He was out late last night in spite of the weather. Didn’t show up until daybreak. Out causing a ruckus no doubt.”
Mr. Cavendish managed to wave down a driver and I climbed aboard.
“No need to rouse him,” I replied. “I believe it’s calledbeauty sleep,” I added and gave the driver the location of the townhouse in Mayfair.
“Well, then, he won’t be up and about until late in the day.”
At the townhouse, I washed and dressed for my visit to the florist shop. Mrs. Ryan appeared in the parlor, carrying a tray with coffee and biscuits. There were a substantial number of the biscuits.
“Mr. Brodie is not with you,” she commented.
“He’s off and about on an inquiry,” I replied as I entered notes into my notebook about that last conversation with him before he left the office.
“And you will be off as well?”
I had dressed for the weather in a long, split skirt, sturdy walking boots, and a warm jumper over my shirtwaist.
“A call I need to make this morning.”
“The mail is on the hall table, and you might take the extra biscuits with you for the hound.”
I smiled. In spite of her complaints when the hound had stayed over at the townhouse, she had a definite fondness for him. Though she would never admit it.
I waited for her parting comment. And there it was.
“They’ll only grow stale, and no sense wasting the food.”
Rupert would very definitely appreciate the thought.
I finished the biscuits and coffee, and placed a telephone call for a driver. I had just finished making my notes when Mrs. Ryan announced that he had arrived.
“There will be more rain,” she said as she met me at the entrance. “Best wear your long coat and don’t forget your umbrella. It’s good that you have several, with the ones you leave at the Strand.”
“It looked like it might clear for a while earlier,” I commented. She shook her head.
“It will be a downpour most of the day. I have it on good authority.”
We were obviously speaking of an Irish saint. She did believe in them.
“And you will be careful?”
She was much like an over-protective mother. Yet, I knew where it came from.
“Careful as church mice.”
She made a scoffing sound very much like Brodie. “And you can protect yourself? There are dreadful people the places you go, and don’t try to tell me different. Mr. Brodie should be with you.”
