“Not even a denial?” Julia said.
“At first, my questions shocked the fellow. That he was under suspicion of murder stunned him. Struck him near dumb, in fact. Then he was volubly terrified. He stuttered and babbled and cried like a baby.”
“Well, he would deny it, wouldn’t he?” Dr. Lewis said. “Facing the hangman’s noose.”
“My judgment isn’t infallible, but if Rawlings lied, he’s a consummate actor and should go on the stage.”
Julia topped up his glass of beer. “What about the girls?”
“They held seven at a time to . . . serve the gentlemen of theTopkapi harem. If the men tired of them, they were prostituted to others at the St. Giles house. Constables freed four girls from that hell. Mister Lloyd has been of immense help dealing with the young women from China.”
Julia said, “I ran into him yesterday on Harley Street.”
Tennant caught her eye and smiled faintly. “Yes . . . so he told me.”
Julia thought of his parting words in the cab and wondered what he said.
“Of the two Chinese girls they had in their claws, only one spoke Cantonese. Mister Lloyd brought in a colleague who is fluent in Mandarin. They and the other girls tell a consistent story of deception, drugs, imprisonment, and rape.”
“What will happen to the girls?” Julia asked. “Surely, the authorities won’t charge them with prostitution.”
“No. But their testimony will form the core of kidnapping and enslavement charges. If they come to trial—”
“If?” she said, startled.
“No doubt, the gentlemen in custody will mount a vigorous defense, pleading ignorance of the girls’ origins.”
“Damnable,” Doctor Lewis muttered.
“Still, there will be a rough sort of justice, even if they manage to evade the law.” Tennant sat forward in his chair. “Do you have theSunday Telegraphdelivered? If not, you may want to send out for it tomorrow. Johnny Osborne has promised to splash the story and the men’s names across its pages.”
Julia said, “TheTelegraph? Osborne no longer writes for theIllustrated London News?”
“He told me the weeklyIllustratedoffered insufficient scope for his genius.”
“I’ll let that remark pass,” Julia said. “Where will the poor girls go?”
“There, again, it’s Mister Lloyd to the rescue. He and his fellow clergyman-interpreter will take in the Chinese girls.”
“And the others? What will happen to them?”
“Mister Lloyd knows of a home for the others called Mercy Cottage. It’s a refuge for ‘fallen women’ that minimizes moralizing and maximizes sympathy and practical help.”
“Thank goodness for his kindness.”
“Mister Lloyd attends Mercy Cottage twice weekly for prayer and counseling. And singing.” Tennant smiled. “He said the girls prefer it over preaching.”
Dr. Lewis said, “The man and his mission are well matched.”
“About Charles Allingham . . .” Julia looked into the fire. “Was he involved in—”
“Rawlings says the pornography scheme was the extent of Allingham’s entanglement. Sidney Allen recruited Margot Miller to procure the girls for ‘the Harem.’ Allingham was a club member but hadn’t a room in the Harem.”
“Do you believe Rawlings?”
The inspector shrugged. “I see no reason the fellow would lie to protect a dead man.”
“I’m glad for Mary and Louisa,” Julia said. “Although what he did was sordid enough.”
