“Perhaps.”
That was the third“perhaps,”an obvious sign that he was deep in his own thoughts.
He tossed back the last of the whisky in his glass.
“I will contact Sir Avery first thing in the morning,” he said as he had obviously been directed to do so, yet not at all pleased about it. I sensed there was more.
“It was good that ye took Lily back to Sussex Square,” he said again. “It would probably be best for ye to go there as well, then Sir Avery’s people and I will see what can be learned at St. Mary’s Church.”
This was a new tactic—compliment, confuse, then subtly persuade.
Two could play this game, I thought, as I set my own glass on the desk. I’d had enough of stale biscuits, whisky, and a bloody stubborn Scot!
I rose from the chair across from him at the desk and went to the door to the adjacent bedroom.
“Perhaps,” I replied.
It was much later when he entered the bedroom and I listened as he removed his boots, shirt, and trousers, then felt the bed dip as he joined me and pulled the blankets over the both of us.
And then, not one to easily concede, “Ye know I’m right.”
I didn’t respond. Instead, I kept my breathing slow and even as if I was already asleep and hadn’t heard a thing he said.
He rose early the next morning, and I heard a curse from the adjacent office, then the sharp sound of the earpiece to the telephone being slammed back into the cradle.
I dressed, splashed water on my face, then joined him.
“The electric has come on,” he announced. “But there’s no service for the telephone.” Then he looked over at me.
“It stopped snowing during the night and turned to rain. There are coaches about on the street. I will send a message to Sir Avery about the information ye found.”
I’d had time to think during the night. I knew where his concern came from, even if the argument was an old one. I understood. It was not unlike my own fear for him each time he left the office to meet with someone from his time with the Metropolitan.
However…
“We can reach Hendon by rail,” I announced. “There should be a train departing this morning and no difficulty with roads.”
“Mikaela.”
I heard the objection in his voice. Yet, I was not one to sit idly by and wait for him to return.
I pointed out that I had been part of the case from the beginning. It was through people I knew that we had learned important information, not to mention my acquaintance with members of the royal family albeit from a past case that had provided access to the Prince of Wales.
I glanced at the small watch pinned to my blouse. It was half past eight o’clock.
“The church should be open by the time we arrive.”
I tucked my notebook into my bag, my fingers brushing the cold steel of the revolver Brodie insisted I carry.
He had gone into the bedroom, then returned. I was already out the door and down the stairs as the door to the office slammed shut.
“Mornin’, miss,” Mr. Cavendish greeted me. “That was a bit of weather earlier. We might be in for more.”
“Would the messenger office have the train schedule for Hendon?” I inquired.
When there was no answer, I looked up. Brodie had arrived, and with the expression on his face, he had heard my question.
“We discussed this.”
