“Wasn’t me what killed her.”
“Convince me.”
He balled a fist and raised it. “I’d stop her mouth for her, but I have an iron rule. Never kill a slag who owes you money. Bad for business.”
“What business are we talking about?”
Stackpole tapped his nose and winked. “Little of this. Little of that. Nothing to interest the Yard.”
“You’ve got two weeks left in prison. Cooperate, and I can do something about that.”
“Two weeks? Crikey. I can do that standing on me head.”
“A bright fellow like you knows it pays to cooperate with the police.”
“Nah. You got nothing to barter, and I got nothing to sell. Still, it was nice talking to you. A pleasant stretch of me legs.” He rattled his leg irons. “More or less.”
Tennant rolled the dice. “Now that Margot is dead, what will you do with the girls?”
Stackpole’s smirk vanished. “Don’t know what you’re on about, mate.”
“One of the girls escaped a few months ago, did you know? She has quite a tale to tell.”
The seaman licked his lips.
“We’re closing in, Stackpole. Don’t leave yourself twisting in the wind. If you change your mind, a word to the warden will bring me back.”
Tennant nodded to the guard. By the time Stackpole reached the door, he’d regained his equilibrium.
“Nice chatting with you, guvnor. But I’m thinking you got nothing.”
The inspector hailed a cab and headed to Billingsgate to meet Jin and Mr. Lloyd’s sister. At least Tennant had Stackpole under lock and key. After his release, he’d follow the man and see where he would lead.
* * *
Tennant returned late to the Yard but caught O’Malley on the landing.
“Any joy at the docks, Paddy?”
“Found the owners of Stackpole’s ship, J. Robertson and Company. TheFlying Spurplies the China trade, hauling tea from Canton and Hong Kong.”
“Do they carry passengers?”
“At the shipmaster’s discretion, so they’re saying. I couldn’t interview the captain because theFlying Spursailed for China a week ago.”
“Damnation.”
“What about Arnie Stackpole?” O’Malley said. “Did you find him in a talkative mood?”
“I found an insolent sod who guessed I was bluffing.”
“Any luck with the identification of the Chinese lass?”
Tennant shook his head. “Not the girl who traveled with Jin.”
“That means she’s still out there, and likely others. Did you show the girl Quain’s sketch?”
“Yes. No surprise there. Margot Miller was the peacock lady.”
