“Have you found who killed George?” Ellen asked him.
“I have not. I want to address this… this reckless behavior that you all exhibited tonight.”
“I wouldn’t bother,” Mungo said. “I’ve been trying for years.”
“I’ll succeed,” the detective snapped. “Good evening.”
“Good evening, Detective Fletcher,” Alex said. “I hope your night improves.”
The man growled. He then walked away, urging Barney Forge before him.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Penny was weak and stumbled a few times. Ellen stood on her left and Mungo on her right. Between them, they kept her upright.
“Did he feed you?” Ellen asked.
“No. He said he was starving me until I said I was his woman. I-I told him I’d rather die hungry.”
“I’ll get you something,” Alex said. He then vanished into the fog.
If anyone could track down food, it was Alex or Fred. Both were ruled by their stomachs.
Leo took the lead, his cane swinging from left to right.
“Are you them?” Penny asked.
“Them?”
“Them Notorious Nightingales. I heard you were gentry and that you help people, and live in Crabbett Close.”
“We are,” Ellen said.
“Thank you.” Penny sniffed. “It was me pa who came to you, wasn’t it? He lives there.”
“He’s a good man, your grandfather,” Leo said over his shoulder.
“The best,” Penny agreed.
Alex reappeared with a slice of spiced fruit cake that had Ellen’s mouth watering. Penny fell on it like a starving child.
They reached the Tompkins house soon thereafter. Leo banged on the door, and it opened seconds later. A red-eyed Mrs. Tompkins shrieked and then caught her girl as she fell into her arms.
“We can’t thank you enough,” Mr. Douglas said from behind his daughter and granddaughter. “But I’ll be finding a way.”
“There is no need, but perhaps one of Mrs. Douglas’s taffy cakes if she’s a mind to make one,” Leo said.
The brothers bowed, Mungo nodded, as did Ellen, and then they were walking away.
“You ate some of that cake, didn’t you?” Ellen glared at Alex.
“As if I would do that?” he said, but the innocent look fooled no one.
“I want cake,” Leo grumbled.
“He’s coming back tomorrow, you know,” Mungo said as they headed to Crabbett Close.
“We did nothing wrong, Mungo,” Ellen said. “Detective Fletcher can be angry that he sees us as pathetic noblemen amusing ourselves, but the fact is we had as much right to be there as anyone.”
