“There have been three deaths over the past months, two quite recently. In two of those, a note was found that indicated there would be four deaths. Two of the young men were sons of the members of that private club.”
He frowned. “I read with great sadness of the death of young Salisbery, a robbery it was said in the daily newspaper. And an accident that claimed the son of Sir Huntingdon several evenings past at Marlborough House.”
“From what we have learned, it may very well have been no robbery or accident,” I replied.
I didn’t go into details, nor did I raise the possibility that there might very well be another accident that was no accident at all and had taken the life of the son of Lord Walsingham.
“Dreadful,” he replied.
I thanked Sir Lowery for his time. He stood as we prepared to leave.
“You will let me know more when you can, Lady Forsythe. My wife and I do not have children,” he added. “The young men at the university were very much like the sons we never had. I don’t suppose you understand.”
I assured him that I did and we would let him know. I thanked him then, and Lily and I departed.
“Do ye believe what is happening now is because of what happened all those years before?” Lily asked.
I couldn’t be certain. But the conversation with Professor Lowrey most certainly revealed something the Prince of Wales failed to tell us about that incident.
It was late afternoon when we returned to the office on The Strand.
Dark clouds pressed low over the city as we arrived, bringing with them the threat of more rain. Mr. Cavendish was there to inform us that Brodie had returned very near an hour before.
I was most anxious to hear what he might have learned about that woolen scarf Lily found in the forest at Marlborough House. And to share what we had learned.
“You’ve made it just in time before the storm comes in,” Mr. Cavendish said as we stepped down from the coach and I paid Mr. Jarvis.
“I’ve seen it before. There will be snow before mornin’,” he added. “Comin’ early this season.”
I had to agree. It had grown colder the closer we had traveled to the river.
As I turned toward the lift in the alcove, it was there again—a sudden tightness on the back of my neck, almost like a warning.
I searched the street and the sidewalk at the far side, then both directions of The Strand.
Did I see someone there among those who crowded the sidewalk and attempted to wave down a cab before the weather set in?
I saw nothing unusual or that I might have seen before. Still, it was there.
“Are ye all right?” Lily asked.
“Yes, of course. It’s just the cold.”
Instead of the lift, I took the stairs, which was admittedly far quicker as the first drops of rain fell.
Brodie looked over from the windows on the other side of the office, a frown on his face.
“Weather settin’ in.”
“It seems we returned just in time,” Lily said as she went to the stove to warm her hands.
That dark gaze met mine as he went to the stove and poured a cup of steaming coffee.
In that way that we had become familiar with each other’s habits and manner of things, he waited until I had removed my neck scarf and laid it across the coat hook where I’d hung my coat. He handed me the cup, his fingers briefly touching mine.
“Ye’re frozen through. Ye should have worn gloves.” He pulled his chair to the stove. “Sit and warm yerself.”
The coffee was strong, the sort he had once said you might be able to stand a spoon up in. It warmed me through as he poured another cup. He handed it to Lily.
