His attitude was both respectful and polite but he did not appear either intimidated or impressed with the expensive furnishings in the drawing room.
He gave Benedict a swift, assessing look and seemed satisfied with what he saw. “Mr. Stanbridge, I congratulate you on your engagement.”
“Thank you, Inspector,” Benedict said. “I am the happiest of men.”
Amity closed her eyes briefly at that. When she looked at Logan again, it was obvious he saw nothing unusual about Benedict’s statement.
Logan’s brows rose. “Would that be Stanbridge of Stanbridge & Company, sir?”
“Yes,” Benedict said. “You’re familiar with the firm?”
“My father wanted me to study engineering,” Logan said. “If he had lived, he would have been severely disappointed by my decision to apply for a position at the Yard.”
“It seems to me that your career requires engineering of a somewhat different nature from my own,” Benedict said. He smiled. “But we are both engaged in the business of trying to ensure that the trappings of civilization do not collapse beneath us.”
Evidently having concluded that Benedict was not going to try to intimidate him, Logan relaxed. He went so far as to smile.
“Indeed, sir,” he said. “That is a very insightful observation.”
Amity was not surprised by the ease of manner between the two men. She had spent enough time in Benedict’s company to know that he did not judge others by their social rank. He respected competence and professionalism in whatever guise it appeared and Inspector Logan gave the impression of possessing both qualities.
Mrs. Houston appeared with a tea tray and set it on the table in front of the sofa. Logan did appear briefly surprised when he was offered a cup but he recovered smoothly.
Amity sat down in a chair and hid a smile. She was well aware that Penny’s manners were not what the inspector was accustomed to from women of the upper classes. Policemen—even inspectors—were usually treated like tradesmen and servants by those who moved in the circles that Penny and Nigel had once inhabited. The very wealthy rarely had occasion to speak to the men of the Yard. When they did find it necessary to talk to an inspector, they did not receive him in their drawing rooms. Nor did they offer tea and cakes.
“Thank you for allowing me to call on you today, Miss Doncaster,” Logan said. He set his cup and saucer on a nearby table and took out a small notebook and a pencil. “Please accept my sympathies. I have read my predecessor’s reports and I have the greatest admiration for you. Your quick thinking and bold action no doubt saved your life and may well lead to the capture of the monster.”
“I was fortunate,” Amity said.
“Yes.” Logan eyed her with a thoughtful expression. “How, exactly, did you manage to escape? The reports I inherited from my predecessor were rather vague.”
“That is very likely because your predecessor displayed little interest in the details I tried to supply.” She touched the fan that dangled from her chatelaine. “In my travels abroad I have picked up one or two odd skills. An acquaintance of my father’s gave me this fan and taught me how to use it in self-defense.” She gripped the fan and snapped it open with a sharp, practiced motion to display the elegant painting. “The ribs are made of sharpened steel. The steel leaves can be employed to deflect a blade. The top edges of the leaves are honed. In effect, my fan is a knife.”
Logan looked first stunned and then intrigued. “Good lord. I’ve never seen anything like that. Every woman should carry one.”
“It requires some training and considerable practice,” she said. “I do not claim to be an expert. Nevertheless, a sharp object of any kind can be extremely useful in the sort of situation that I was forced to deal with.”
Logan nodded. “Indeed. But it also requires clearheaded thinking and the will to employ the weapon.”
“My sister possesses both qualities,” Penny said calmly. “I cannot imagine her panicking under any circumstances. I sincerely doubt that I would be so coolheaded in such a situation.”
Amity snapped the fan closed. “I must tell you that although I have traveled around the world, the only place I have ever had to employ this fan in self-defense was here in London.”
“London has never been known as a safe place,” Benedict observed.
“Certainly not now with that dreadful killer on the loose,” Penny said.
“I regret to say that the Yard has not distinguished itself in this case,” Logan said. “To be quite honest, we are at a standstill. That is why my superior put me in charge of this investigation. He is hoping that fresh eyes will see clues that have been overlooked.”
Benedict lounged against a wall and folded his arms. “What do you know of this killer, Inspector?”
“Over the course of the past year the bodies of four women—all of whom appear to have been murdered by the same individual—have been found dumped in various alleys around the city,” Logan said.
Penny stared at him. “But I thought the Bridegroom was believed to have committed only three murders, Inspector.”
“Three bodies have been found in the past three months,” Logan said. “However, a year ago a woman was murdered in an identical manner. We—I—believe that she was the first victim.”
Benedict frowned. “If that is true, there was a considerable gap in time between the first death and the next three murders.”
