His words certainly sounded like those of a madman.
“He’s been speaking deliriously since I found him at his home with the burned manuscript box in his possession, along with Miss Davis’s address.” Lawson released Monroe from his iron bracelets and shoved the man inside.
“Her address? But how?”
“He’s been watching her long enough that he probably discerned who her friends were and then used the directory to find them.” Lawson clapped Abraham on the shoulder. “We were just in time, Hall. Ingram and Lydia are safe.”
Praise God for that. “What about the manuscript pages?”
“Mostly ashes. I doubt Monroe could discern that Ingram was his next victim.”
Good. Not that it mattered now. “We’ll need a warrant to thoroughly search his home and office for more evidence.”
“I’m taking care of that next. You’ll interrogate him while I’m gone. See if you can get a confession. It might take you a while to though. Those opiates need to leave his system first.”
Abraham cast a doubtful glance Monroe’s way. He’d lain down in the middle of the floor, curled around his burned hand, and continued to mutter incoherently. It would be hours before he could be interrogated if this demonstration were any indication.
Lawson continued. “I found him trying to treat the pain with an opium pipe and lamp.”
Not surprising with the severity of his injuries, but putting together an opium setup one-handed didn’t fit. He gestured for Lawson to step away from the cell and lowered his voice. “Was there evidence someone else set it up for him? Maybe a partner?”
Lawson’s brows drew together as he seemed to go back to the scene and mentally walk it. After a moment, he shook his head. “I didn’t see any, but I was more focused on hauling him in while he was easy to control. But you’re right. He couldn’t have done it on his own. You get that search warrant paperwork written up while Monroe recovers. I’ll transfer Lydia to a new location and stay with her. Officer Atwood will remain with Miss Davis to protect her and be prepared to capture Monroe’s partner.”
“I’ll transfer Lydia and see to her safety.”
“After your kiss with her last night? I think not.”
So Lawson had seen them. The collar around Abraham’s neck seemed to tighten, and he tugged it loose.
Clemens gave a low whistle. Apparently they hadn’t been speaking low enough. “Maybe you’re not as straight a die as I thought. Trying to pass off a night with your saucy miss as duty? I don’t think there’s a person in town who’d believe her innocence intact. Not with your relationship in the papers and all.”
The insult to Abraham and Lydia’s integrities couldn’t be ignored. “We would never allow anything of the sort to happen. Her safety is my priority.”
Lawson folded his arms. “Even the most upstanding men can fall to temptation, son.”
“By that logic, her going with you, an unmarried man, would be just as much a temptation.”
“Do you see how much gray is in my hair and beard? I’m not a young, hot-blooded man anymore. She’ll be safer with me than you. I’m pulling rank on this one. You don’t get the choice.”
Abraham chafed, but there was little he could do. With Clemens watching, Lydia’s reputation was at stake if he insisted. “Where will you take her?”
“I’ll leave directions on your desk. I wouldn’t want curious ears to hear.”
He had a point. As soon as Clemens’s bail was set, he’d be out. And it was possible that Clemens and Monroe had worked together. The more he thought about it, the more that made sense. “God be with you both, sir.”
Lawson left the cellblock, but Abraham lingered. Maybe with a few well-pointed questions, he could determine if Clemens was Monroe’s partner.
“What time did you and the Napiers leave the cemetery?”
Clemens’s wits weren’t clouded by opium, and it showed in the calculating glint to his eyes. “I’m not Poe’s partner. I departed Spring Grove with the Napiers around eleven thirty this morning and did not leave them until I lost my temper at seeing the book around noon. I went straight to O’Dell Publishing, where I was placed under arrest by one. I’ve been in this cell ever since.”
That was disappointing. Abraham would have to verify Clemens’s story with the Napiers, but if it checked out, Clemens couldn’t be the one who helped Monroe set up the opium lantern. Perhaps O’Dell?
“Did O’Dell go to a hospital after your fight?”
“Uncle James doesn’t have the wit nor the stomach to partner with Poe in anything but the written word. I am certain he went to the hospital. The man has less tolerance for discomfort than a newborn babe.”
In truth, Abraham agreed. He couldn’t envision O’Dell physically committing the murders, nor being the one to plan them. But someone had to have helped Monroe with the opium equipment. Abraham needed to petition for that search warrant and determine the possible partner’s identity. He pivoted on his heel and strode toward the detectives’ office.
