“To make certain I would be accused with the second crime as well as the first,” he said, stiffening and spinning about to face his wife. “The night Croydon escaped from Dunsworth, a woman identified only as a Mrs. L. was seen making a commotion outside the prison.”
Elysande was a vision in scarlet and cream, all pale skin and dark hair, warm brown eyes on his. The juxtaposition of red and ivory took him back to that terrible night when he had found Maude dead in his bed. His stomach lurched at the reminder.
“Someone is trying to paint you as the murderer,” Elysande said softly, understanding the direction of his thoughts. “To cover up their involvement in Reginald Croydon’s escape.”
“And that same man is desperate enough to murder the very woman he employed to bolster his lies by placing me at the scene of Mrs. Ainsley’s murder,” he added, all but seeing Elysande’s capable mind whirling in tandem with his. “The same man believed I was away from home last night. He made certain a sergeant saw me leave here and go to the Black Souls. Then, he must have cleverly arranged for the sergeant to be diverted elsewhere, knowing the man would only witness a return home.”
“But he had no notion that the sergeant mistook my brother for you.” Elysande’s countenance was stricken. “Chief Inspector O’Rourke, then?”
Grim certainty overtook him. “When I first arrived in London and learned Chief Inspector O’Rourke had been charged with the case of Croydon’s escape, he assured me my assistance was not only unnecessary but futile. He claimed to have proof Croydon had escaped the country. The only reasonable conclusion to reach is that the inspector has been colluding with Croydon in some fashion.”
And the more he thought about this likely scenario, the more he realized it made sense. Croydon had used his connections within Scotland Yard on many occasions, including to murder one of his own partners. If O’Rourke was the connection, that meant he also would have had a hand in helping Croydon to escape Dunsworth.
“Do you think Chief Inspector O’Rourke has been hiding Croydon?” Elysande asked. “If he is, that could be why he dismissed the idea of finding him and returning him to prison. He would have wanted him to remain free. And if he wanted him to remain free and feared you were getting nearer to discovering Croydon, then either Chief Inspector O’Rourke or Croydon himself must have murdered Mrs. Ainsley in an attempt to pin her killing upon you.”
“And when O’Rourke did not have sufficient evidence against me, he decided to fabricate it with the aid of Mrs. Lamson,” Hudson concluded. “Until it was determined that the lady in question was of more use dead than alive.”
“My God, Hudson. We have to find a way to put an end to this madness before anyone else is hurt or killed.”
Grim determination settled over him. “I will.”
Chapter 17
“Absolutely not.”
Elysande crossed her arms over her bodice and pinned Hudson with a glare. “You cannot think I will just allow you to do this alone.”
His jaw tightened, but he continued his methodical actions, checking his pistol barrel. “I will not put you in danger.”
He stood in his shirtsleeves and trousers in her chamber, looking very much like a warrior about to go to battle rather than a duke who was dressed for a dinner he was not going to attend. From the moment he had announced his plan to confront Chief Inspector O’Rourke, she had been determined to accompany him. She could not shake the fear, gripping her heart with relentless strength, that he would not return to her alive.
She shook her head. “I cannot stand by while you face Chief Inspector O’Rourke on your own. If everything we suspect about him is true, then he could be capable of anything. Moreover, if he is truly colluding with Croydon, you will be facing two villains, not just one.”
Hudson remained stern and unmoved by her attempts at reasoning with him, however. Calmly, he tucked the pistol into a pocket concealed in his waistcoat. “I am aware of the possibilities. I will leave you with your family for dinner as we discussed. You will remain there until I am able to return. If I should not return—”
A choked cry of denial fled her at his words. The thought of anything happening to him was anathema. He was so vital and strong, so beloved to her.
“You must return,” she managed, tears clogging her throat and making her eyes sting as she blinked them furiously away. “I could not bear it if some manner of harm befell you.”
“If I should not return,” he continued, as if she had not spoken, “you must ask your father and brother to go to Scotland Yard with all the evidence we have collected. The comparison of the prints at Mrs. Ainsley’s murder, the interviews with witnesses who vouched for my presence at the times of both murders, the suspicions we have about O’Rourke.”
If I should not return.
Those words filled her with fear, for she knew what he truly meant. If he were killed. Murdered as callously and cruelly as Mrs. Ainsley and Mrs. Lamson.
This time, the tears could not be contained. They filled her vision and rolled down her cheeks as she dashed them away. “Hudson, please. I do not see why you do not simply go to Scotland Yard with the evidence yourself. It will be far safer.”
“O’Rourke is far too cunning. There is only one way to put an end to his machinations.” Hudson’s voice was low and grim.
Lethal.
“You cannot mean to kill him yourself.”
“I need to stop him before he hurts anyone else, Ellie.” His gaze was bleak.
“What about you?”
“I do not give a damn about myself.” He donned his coat, concealing the pistol’s telltale bulge. “My primary concern is you. It is possible he will go after you next. I would gladly lay down my life for yours.”
