Julia looked at Mary, who made a helpless shrug. Then she knelt by her sister-in-law’s chair. “Dearest Louisa, we must inform the authorities—not our local Kensington police. Perhaps if we called in Inspector Tennant—”
“Richard . . . Of course.” Louisa clutched her mourning brooch. “Send for Richard. He’ll know what to do. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll close my eyes until he arrives.”
* * *
Mary and Inspector Tennant came downstairs from Louisa’s room an hour later.
Julia looked at the hall clock. “I must leave for the clinic. Is there anything else I can do before I go?”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Mary said. “Louisa seems calmer now that the problem is in the inspector’s hands.”
Tennant said, “The question is, will the letter-writer show himself?”
“My sister-in-law is in no condition to meet this man, Inspector.”
“Of course not,” he said.
She frowned, biting her lip. “But I’m about Louisa’s height. Hatted and heavily veiled, no one will spot the difference.”
“You’re proposing yourself as bait?” Julia said. “Forgive me, but I think that’s foolhardy.”
“It may be our best chance to catch this man,” Tennant said.
Julia stared at him. “Catching criminals is your responsibility. Miss Allingham is no more fit for the task than her sister-in-law.”
“The risks are manageable.”
“But you admit they exist.”
“We’ll surround her with a ring of plainclothes policemen.”
“You don’t know the depth of this man’s anger or desperation. If it’s too dangerous for Louisa, it’s equally risky for Mary. But you’re willing to gamble withherlife? Surely, Mrs. Allingham would argue against it.”
“Allow me to do my job, Doctor.”
“Inspector, I respect our separate roles, but I’m speaking as a doctor. Mary has just endured a devastating loss. She suggests herself as bait, but my medical advice is not to accept her offer.”
Tennant turned to her. “What do you say, Miss Allingham?”
Mary said, “I must do this for Charles.”
Julia sighed and picked up her medical bag. “Then there is nothing more I can say.”
Tennant said, “I’ll fetch a cab.”
“Thank you, but don’t trouble yourself,” Julia said. “I’ll pick one up at the cabstand on Kensington Road.”
* * *
Hours later, the Allingham carriage left Blenheim Lodge carrying a single, veiled passenger.
It rolled to a stop on Queen’s Gate Road near the garden’s southwest gate. Mary entered the grounds and spotted an unoccupied bench near the entrance to the maze. She sat and pretended to read. Minutes passed, and Mary looked up. Only a few visitors remained in the last hour of daylight; she knew some were policemen.
Minutes ticked by, but only strolling couples and nursemaids with children passed her bench. The wind picked up, and clouds rolled in, hurrying the sunset. Mary’s heart lurched when a mustachioed man in a bowler hat emerged from the maze. He tugged the brim lower over his eyes and headed toward her. Mary held her breath. Then a little boy burst from the hedge’s gap, grabbed the man’s hand, and dragged him away. She closed her eyes and exhaled.
Finally, when Mary heard church bells ring the hour, she followed Tennant’s instructions and returned to the carriage.
Back at the house, a dejected Mary removed her hat and veil. “Why didn’t he show himself, Inspector?”
