Abraham frowned. “Which means the writing samples we took earlier aren’t going to match Poe’s. They were written with Clemens’s and Monroe’s dominant hands.”
Excitement thrummed through her. This was just the evidence they needed. With a little work, they’d be able to determine whether Mr. Clemens or Marcus was the real Billy Poe. “Get new writing samples, but dictate a sentence that has the same words, in a different order, as the Billy Poe letters. They won’t have time to think about how to disguise their handwriting that way.”
He straightened and gently clasped her arms. “We’re going to catch him, Lydia. He doesn’t stand a chance now. All we have to do is get Clemens and Monroe to the station.”
That victorious smile looked ridiculous with his half-singed head of hair and double black eyes, but it was adorable in a way that she would always treasure. She couldn’t help but grin in return. Not just because this nightmare wouldfinallybe over but because it signaled a new beginning. For her. For them. Maybe a beginning that would grow into a lifetime.
“Then I think it’s time we put our plans into action so that you can defeat the villain and rescue the damsel in distress.”
The bandage-wrapped hand scratched against her cheek as he cupped it. “I’ve never wanted to be someone’s hero so much. Tell me. Does this hero get to knock the heroine off her feet once this is over?”
Lydia giggled. “Maybe, but the suspense is in not knowing. You’ll just have to wait to find out once we reach the end.”
“Then we had better get going.” He dropped his hand and led her toward the door.
CHAPTER32
BY THE TIMEABRAHAM ARRIVEDat his friend’s, Lucian and his wife were finishing up their midday meal. Abraham declined the offer to join them but accepted Verity’s generosity in making him a sandwich to take with him. While she put the small repast together, he explained the situation and his request to Lucian. Thankfully, Lucian readily agreed to help.
“I owe you, friend.” Abraham passed Miss Davis’s address to Lucian.
The wide grin on Lucian’s face told Abraham he would pay dearly for this favor. “A whole night with the woman who’s managed to catch your fancy? And a criminal clown turned deadly author, at that? I can’t imagine my wife and me spending my night off in any better way.” Lucian rubbed his hands together. “What stories should I share about you? Maybe the time we dressed as streetwalkers to lure out that violent cad? She might appreciate the details of how horrible you look in a dress.”
“I looked a far sight better than you.”
Given the first time he’d met Lydia she’d been wearing trousers, he didn’t find the threat too frightening. She was well accustomed to doing what was necessary to accomplish a task. Still, knowing Lucian had unrestrained access to share stories with Lydia didn’t sit well with him. It wasn’t that he feared Lucian would scare off Lydia. No, it was far worse. If Lydia ever picked up her pen to write again, Abraham had no doubt those stories kept between friends would make their way into fictional stories for the world to read.
Lucian shoved the address into his pocket, his face turning serious. “Be careful going after Poe. I don’t like that he’s already got one up on you.” He pointed at Abraham’s wrapped shooting hand. “I can go with you as backup to bring in Clemens.”
“As much as I’d like you by my side, I need you protecting Lydia more. Logically, Poe should be going after Ingram and not worrying about Lydia, butlogicandPoedon’t belong in the same sentence.”
“Maybe not, but watch your back. If he catches you alone, I wouldn’t count on him playing fair.”
Abraham gingerly flexed his burned hand. The burns weren’t as bad as Lawson’s had been, but they were enough to put Abraham at a disadvantage.
“I’ll be careful. Just make sure Lydia and her friends stay inside. I wouldn’t put it past them to become vigilantes themselves and try to catch Poe.”
“I’d say you’re overly worried, but they did try to steal a goat from the circus.” Lucian slapped him on the shoulder. “May the morning dawn with news that this is over, and you can begin courting and taming that wild woman.”
Abraham shook his head, then Lucian’s hand, and headed toward the station. He wasn’t foolish enough to confront Clemens on his own. He’d enlist at least one officer to go with him to bring in Clemens. Once Lawson had Monroe, the detectives would hopefully know who their man was, and Mr. Ingram could live out the rest of his life without knowing how close he’d come to facing death again.
Tracking down Clemens proved harder than Abraham imagined. The first logical place to visit had been theCincinnati Commercialoffice, but Clemens’s boss said he’d sent in a note claiming to be sick. The timing was suspicious, but Abraham tried to withhold judgment. Everything they had was circumstantial and didn’t prove that Clemens was Billy Poe. The man really could be sick with a summer cold.
Only, when they went to the boardinghouse where Clemens resided, the landlord said he’d been gone since early that morning.
Abraham rubbed his thumb over the linen bandages and scowled. The timing fit for Clemens starting the fire, stealing the manuscript, and throwing the fire grenade. As much as Abraham disliked the man, a part of him hadn’t wanted to believe Clemens capable of the deeds Poe performed. Yes, the reporter was a snake, but they’d worked begrudgingly alongside each other for three years now. But knowing someone didn’t make them innocent. Clemens was like a dog with a bone—he fiercely went after what he wanted. And Poe was exactly the same kind of man. Abraham hated to think that Poe had been under his nose this whole time, gleaning information without much question from the very men who wanted to protect Cincinnati.
“If Clemens should return,” Abraham said, “please inform an officer as quickly as you can without alerting Clemens to your doing so.”
After agreeing, the landlord closed the boardinghouse door.
Officer Richards, Abraham’s assistant for the task, scratched at his beard. “What now?”
They should petition a judge for a warrant to search Clemens’s room. With the trouble this case had caused for the city, he might accept Abraham’s reasoning as good enough. However, that would take more time and likely yield little direction in where to find Clemens. The day was already edging its way into late afternoon. No, Abraham wouldn’t waste precious time in that futile effort. Clemens was a smart man, familiar with sensational stories. He would quickly recognize Ingram as Lydia’s story’s inspiration. If Abraham were Clemens, he’d secure his next victim, possibly kill him first, and then retrieve Lydia before dashing off into the concealing fog of obscurity. Ingram was his biggest lead, so that was where they should go next.
Abraham retrieved his notebook from his pocket and referenced the address. Of course the man would live in the Deer Creek Gang’s area. Assaults were less frequent in the daylight, but it was best not to take any chances.
“I hope you’re well-armed. We’re heading to Hunt Street.”
