I reluctantly nodded.
“I would hear ye say it.”
Bloody hell.
“If you will promise to send word that you are still alive out there,” I countered.
He smiled, wicked man.
“I promise.”
Twelve
We stayedthe night at the office once again.
I rose early with Brodie as he prepared to leave.
“Did Blackwood have a family in London? Might they have heard from him?” I inquired as he dressed.
He gave me a long look, a reminder of our conversation the previous evening. I went into the outer office.
There was a scratching at the door, and I let the hound in. He immediately went to warm himself near the fire in the stove that Brodie had set when we first rose.
The hound was most amicable, most of the time. He did like Brodie, when he had food that could be beggared. However, he had his other moments.
I slipped him a biscuit, left from the previous day. He was not some miniature, yapping nuisance and could be quite intimidating. He was my insurance against any argument regarding that conversation the night before.
“Good boy,” I told him as he inhaled the biscuit then went to lie before the firebox.
“What of your conversation with Mr. Brown? He is usually well informed and has been a reliable source in the past.”
I looked up, uneasy at the somewhat obvious silence as Brodie came into the outer office. “I promised to assist from here if there should be word. I did not promise that I wouldn’t ask questions.”
“Ye must remind me to be more specific next time.”
I didn’t bother to acknowledge that.
“As to your question, I have spoken with Mr. Brown. He will get word to me when he learns something about Blackwood. The man seems to have a need for morphine; however, having fled the hospital, he’ll have only what he can steal.”
“What were you forced to promise in exchange for his assistance?”
“Ah lass, ye doubt me. It is himself that owes me the favor.”
And not the first time I had heard that. I did wonder about their ‘working relationship;’ however, I had learned not to ask too many questions about it.
Part of the things, Brodie informed me, it would be best that I didn’t know about.
“When will I hear from you?” I asked instead as he donned his thick worsted coat and billed cap, even though I already knew the answer.
That was the complicated part of working apart, particularly in a situation that was more than merely following up on information as in the case of a missing necklace.
“Mr. Dooley will be working the case from the MET. I will send word round to Mr. Cavendish.”
Which translated to…maybe, perhaps if possible, or ‘yes dear.’
“Might someone from the Agency be of help?”
He shook his head. “Best to keep this away from the Agency if possible.”
