“As you should, but as I have stated that I mean you no harm, you can stay your fears, madam. Now, why did you yell for assistance?”
Even in the dark foggy night air, she could see his size. A hat obscured his eyes, but that face seemed severe. Cheekbones hard ridges, mouth in a line. Dressed in a long black overcoat, he towered over her. A noise had her turning away from him.
Something bumped into Ellen, sending her stumbling backward into the man. He didn’t move, simply steadied her, and she had the oddest sensation run through her. Almost like a shiver of awareness.
“My dear Miss Nightingale, forgive me.”
“Quite all right,” Ellen said, backing away once more from the dark stranger.
“Was that you who screamed for help?” Constable Plummy asked. “I was some distance away but ran to your aid immediately.”
“Thank you.”
His moustache was twitching, immaculate as always in his uniform of a blue tailcoat with his armlets, white gloves, and top hat. In his hand he held a truncheon. He looked exactly as he had this morning when she’d seen him walking the same route he took every day.
“Plummy, do you know this woman?” the man at his side asked.
“Oh, Detective Fletcher,” Plummy said, as if just noticing the man. “What has you here?”
“Work, Plummy.”
“Right. Of course. This is Detective Grayson Fletcher, Miss Nightingale. He is a highly regarded man of consequence, you understand.” The reverence in Plummy’s tone told her he was in awe of the detective.
“That will do, constable.” The man’s voice was deep and gruff like she sometimes sounded after a dreadful night’s sleep. “What appears to be the problem, Miss Nightingale?” he enquired. “Are you perhaps lost?”
“No, I’m not lost.”
“The fog is thick. It is easy to become disorientated,” he said. “There is no shame in admitting you cannot find your way.”
“I live not far from here,” Ellen said, sounding impatient.
“It’s reckless, madam, to be out in these conditions alone. People have been known to stumble into the Thames. Especially—”
“If you say a lady, Detective Fletcher, I will not be impressed. I am more than able to care for myself without a man at my side, and I’m fairly sure the Thames is some distance from my present location.”
His lips twitched. It was fast and over in seconds, but she saw it. She amused him, which annoyed her further.
Ellen had spent a lot of her life being amusement to men. Someone to leer at and tolerate. However, that was no longer the case, and she would ensure it never would be again.
“Miss Nightingale, what appears to be the problem?” Constable Plummy said, the breath wheezing in and out of his mouth, which suggested he had indeed been some distance away.
“It is Mr. Nicholson, Constable Plummy. I fear he is dead,” she said, ignoring the large, disturbing male who was watching her intently.
“Dead you say?” The constable straightened. “On my watch? Are you sure, Miss Nightingale? The light is poor, and—”
“I know when a person is deceased, Constable Plummy. They stop breathing.”
The Nightingales knew the constable well because he was completely enamored with their housekeeper. He was often found on their doorstep under some guise or other. Yesterday it was checking nothing was missing as there had been several burglaries in the area, which none of the Nightingales had heard about, and they heard most things going on in Crabbett Close.
“And how is it you are aware Mr. Nicholson is deceased, Miss Nightingale?” Detective Fletcher asked.
“Obviously, I saw him, Detective Fletcher,” she snapped. Her nerves were stretched tight. The visions were enough to upset even the most rationally minded person, but there was also the knife tucked in her sleeve to worry about too.
“Your delicate womanly sensibilities will be distraught after such an encounter, Miss Nightingale. You must allow me to escort you home. Please take my arm.”
She ignored the arm Plummy raised. “I am not delicate and neither are my sensibilities. I am more concerned over the fact that my dear friend appears to have been murdered. You both must go at once and care for his body. Then ensure the killer is caught.”
“Murdered you say!”
