Hers was styled perfectly, with ringlets framing her face. The dress was deep gray with black lace marching down the shoulders and black satin bows around the hem. She presented a picture of demure gentility, and her eyes had been on Detective Fletcher since he entered the room.
“George was a wonderful man,” Miss Denton said, sending Detective Fletcher a flirtatious smile, which, to Ellen, signaled her interest in the man. He was oblivious, his face serious as he continued to ask questions. “We loved him very much.” She leaned forward slightly and gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look. He simply nodded, which had annoyance flashing across her face.
Did the woman not understand that the Nicholson family was in mourning? Surely flirting with the detective who was investigating her nephew’s murder was the height of unacceptable behavior.
Ellen swallowed her smile as the detective turned from Miss Denton to speak with Mr. Nicholson, and her lips clamped into a hard line. She bet that women had thrown themselves at him many times, and he’d failed to notice. The man was handsome, articulate, and had good breeding, and he did not make her heart flutter, she told herself.
The detective was not for the likes of her. Ellen had vowed no man would be. She would spend her life unwed. Never again to be a pawn for a man to discard.
“And you are Detective Fletcher’s assistant, Miss Night?” Miss Denton asked her.
They’d decided not to use her actual name, so the detective had shortened it.
“I am yes,” Ellen said.
“How wonderful. I can imagine how thrilling it must be to work for a man such as him,” Miss Denton said.
“Oh yes. Every day is a thrill. And so exciting. I go home some nights and barely sleep due to the day I have just spent in his company.”
Ellen tried to converse with Miss Nicholson, but she did not speak more than a few words, and often her aunt answered for her. In fact, none of the Nicholsons offered any conversation unless directly questioned. They sat together and were clearly a family grieving deeply for their much-loved son and brother.
Mr. Nicholson had the look of George, only taller, and he had a solid presence to him that reminded her of Uncle Bram. Mrs. Nicholson had red-rimmed eyes and dark smudges underneath. Ellen’s heart wept for them. George had been her friend, and she missed him, but she had not known him all her life.
“Do you remember George arguing with anyone? An enemy from his youth? Anyone that may have held a grudge against him?” Detective Fletcher asked.
“Everyone loved my brother,” Olivia said softly. “He was the very best of men.” She burst into tears and pressed her face into a handkerchief.
The vision came fast. George talking to his sister in the bookshop. Olivia was crying. The vision changed suddenly, and she saw another man with dark hair. He was lying on his side and unclothed. One arm was raised in the air, and then that vision was gone too.
“He had no enemies,” Mrs. Nicholson was saying when Ellen came back to herself.
Detective Fletcher shot her a look, and Ellen managed a smile. She was faintly nauseous and wanted to blush at the same time over the fact she’d just seen her first naked man.
When the dreams were strong, the emotions vivid, she sometimes felt them.
“Not quite true, Mildred,” her husband said, drawing Ellen’s eyes.
She concentrated on breathing slowly to push aside the nausea.
“There was that man who wanted to purchase the bookshop, but George got it before him. He was not happy and said he had been cheated in some way. Vowed he would own that shop if it was the last thing he’d do,” Mr. Nicholson said.
“I’d forgotten about that,” Mrs. Nicholson said. “He was not a nice man.” Her nose wrinkled.
“Do you remember his name?” Detective Fletcher asked.
“Dunston, Michael Dunston,” Mr. Nicholson said. “He threatened George, but that stopped when I got Bow Street involved.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t. But the Bow Street runner I talked to on the matter was a Mr. Brown.”
“Thank you,” Detective Fletcher said. “If you think of anything else, please let me know.”
Had the vision been of this Michael Dunston? Was he the angry man?
“We will,” Miss Denton said. She then sent the detective another flirtatious smile.
Ellen had never thought about a man’s plight in life. She’d just believed they had the best of most things. They could go to school and university. Their reputations stayed intact even when they had affairs. But she’d never given much consideration to what it felt like to be pursued by women.
