Chapter 39
Kendra felt human again after the hot bath, although she had to endure Molly’s lecture about ruining her half-boots and risking her life. Both seemed to be of equal concern to the maid.
Dressed in a velvet gown of deep indigo with a cashmere shawl for extra warmth, Kendra made her way to the library. She found herself appreciating the lemon and beeswax scents of furniture polish after the drainage systems of London.
She heard voices before she entered the library. Alec was leaning against the fireplace, and God, the man was gorgeous. He’d changed into an exquisitely tailored black jacket, burnished gold vest, and beige pantaloons tucked into a fresh pair of boots. She tore her gaze from his to scan the other occupants in the room. She’d expected Sam, who had a glass of whisky in his hand, but she was surprised to see Rebecca and Muldoon sitting on the sofa.
“You’re looking better, sweet,” Alec remarked, peeling himself away from the mantel to move to the sideboard. He poured her a glass of wine and brought it over with a smile. “Smell better too.”
“I should. Molly threw in enough bath salts and oils to make the Thames smell like a garden. Thanks.” She took the wineglass and looked to Rebecca. “I didn’t realize you were here.”
“I’m on my way to a musical recital at Lady Chevallier’s and thought to persuade you to accompany me. Of course, that was before I found out you nearly drowned.” Concern darkened her eyes. “Dear heaven, Kendra. How are you?”
Kendra thought she saw something else in Rebecca’s eyes—a remembered horror. Almost a year ago, the aristocrat had nearly drowned in the Thames.
“I’m fine,” she assured her. “But I don’t think I’m up for a musical recital.”
“Mr. Kelly was telling us that you may have found Edwina,” Rebecca went on.
Kendra took a long sip of her wine. “I never got close enough to identify her. I’m hoping she was part of the group of kids that I chased into the aqueduct. I could only give them my name and address. If she wasn’t with them, I’m hoping they know her and pass on my information.”
Sam looked at Alec. “Who was the bloke spying on us?”
“I wish I knew.” Alec’s face hardened. “The blasted man ran off before I could get to the top of the embankment. I was never close enough to get a proper look at him, although he appeared to be the same height and build as the man Bridget saw running after Edwina.”
“I can’t imagine he’s one of your suspects,” Muldoon said, glancing at the slate board. “They’re all physicians, sawbones, and apprentices. I’d think they’re too busy to be following you. Most likely, he was someone hired to keep an eye on Lady Sutcliffe. Everyone knows she’s the one leading the investigation. Would make sense to watch her, like they were watching Lady Westford.”
Kendra shook her head. “They probably have someone watching me, but not someone off the streets. Hired help might talk or blackmail. They need someone loyal to the cause.”
Rebecca lifted an eyebrow. “The cause? You make it sound like a revolution.”
“For them, it is. The men involved are dedicated to finding a cure for syphilis, which is a noble pursuit. Except they’ve crossed ethical boundaries.Exitus acta probat.Finding a cure to the disease could justify anything—even murder.”
A somber silence followed her words.
Muldoon broke it by clearing his throat. “Before we went mudlarking, Mr. Kelly sent me a list of names and asked me to research whether any on the list owned property with a basement or an ice house, focusing north of the Thames. Was Dr. Munroe’s friend really able to determine where the body had been based ondirt?” He sounded amazed.
“Yeah, although that dirt covers a wide area,” Kendra replied. “Did you find out anything that could narrow our list of suspects?”
“I’m not sure,” he admitted, pulling a notebook from his pocket. He flipped it open. “Most of the gentlemen on the list rent rooms, so no basement or ice house. Sir Preston owns the largest house. Not surprising, I suppose. But I can’t imagine him conducting illegal experiments out of it. He has a wife and a rather large staff.”
“We were at Sir Preston’s last night,” Kendra said. “You’re right about the staff and lack of privacy.”
“And he’s too old ter be the man that Bridget saw,” Sam added.
Kendra looked at the Bow Street Runner. “Yes, but he could still be involved with the experiments.”
“Mr. Beane lives in a small townhouse that he inherited from an uncle,” Muldoon continued. “He has a maid-of-all-work and a cook who come in daily. No ice house. I don’t know if there’s a basement, but I don’t think the maid or cook would look kindly on a dead woman being kept there.”
“That’s assuming they knew a dead woman was in the basement,” Kendra commented. “Still, it would be difficult to conduct the experiments without their knowledge.”
“Mr. Dawes lives in an impressive manor with a basement, and which may have an ice house—”
“How does an apprentice afford that?” Kendra asked.
“Simple: by living with his stepfather, who happens to be a real estate tycoon.” Muldoon grinned at her.
Kendra recalled that it was Dawes’s stepfather, Mr. Stevens, who owned the building Goldsten rented for his clinic.
