Henry nodded, unable to argue, and with his sergeant’s help they found one of the officers who’d been among the first to arrive on the scene.
“Perkins, tell me what you know,” Henry prompted the constable.
“I was only a street away when I heard the explosion and came running.” The younger man shook his head. “It was bedlam,never seen the like of it.” His eyes widened as he stared at Henry with dismay. “Can’t imagine what you endured only a few days ago, sir.”
And to think, he’d hoped no one else would have to suffer it. “Quite unpleasant,” Henry admitted.
“I’m sure, considering this. At any rate, people were screaming, running in every direction. No deaths reported, only minor injuries thus far. I helped those I could and asked them to wait so we could take their statements.” The young man gestured to where half a dozen people sat lined up on the edge of the pavement and swallowed hard. “Difficult to find words to bring comfort when so many need it.”
“Excellent work, Perkins. Continue on and send any others you talk to over there.” Henry gestured toward the group of potential witnesses. “Sergeant Fletcher and I will start taking statements. Someone must have seen something helpful. We need every detail we can gather to piece this together.”
Where were the men from the Special Irish Branch? They should be there to help sort everyone out and see the damage for themselves. Frustration simmered within Henry as he glanced around, unable to spot any of them. He gave himself a mental shake. The victims on the scene needed his understanding, not his anger. That could wait.
“I’ll start at this end, and you start at the other,” he told Fletcher and moved to the last person seated in the shivering group, only to halt in surprise as she looked up. “A-Amelia?” He couldn’t believe his eyes. It wasn’t possible.
“Henry!” Her eyes were dull with shock, dust coating her attire. She rose to reach for him, hands shaking.
His heart squeezed as he held her tight in his arms, his mind trying to grasp why she was there, even as he wanted to drop to his knees in gratitude that she was alive. “Are you hurt?”
“No, thank goodness.” She eased back and wiped her dust-and tear-stained cheeks with a gloved hand. “I was several doors down from the newspaper office when the blast—” She bit off the rest, as if unable to finish.
“Thank goodness,” he repeated as he hugged her again, unable to let her go despite the pain in his ribs. Not until his heartbeat slowed its rapid pace. She was safe. “What brought you here?”
“I-I had just finished visiting with my editor atLondon Life.” She gestured with a trembling hand down the street to where the periodical’s office was presumably located. “I had another stop to m-make before returning home.”
His heart lurched; it was all he could do not to whisk her away from the scene, evidence and witnesses be damned, and do everything within his power to comfort her. Yet he also had a job to do. It was imperative they find who did this and stop them from doing it again.
“Did you happen to see anything out of the ordinary? Someone who looked out of place?” Though there was every chance the bomb had been placed before her arrival, he had to ask.
She blinked, as if trying to gather her thoughts. “What did you say?”
Henry tried to keep his voice low, calm, level. “Did you see anything?”
Amelia nodded gingerly. “There was a-a man. Tall. Thin. In a long heavy coat, which I thought odd given the fine weather.”She looked toward the open hole where the newspaper door had been. “He brushed against me as he passed, and made no apology, so I turned to watch him. He set a b-bundle of some sort n-near the door of the newspaper.” Tears filled her eyes as she looked back at Henry. “Could that have been the bomb?”
“More than likely.” To think she been that close, had actually touched whoever had done this made Henry even more nauseous. What if she’d gone closer to investigate? They wouldn’t be having this conversation. He shuddered at the thought.
“Dear heaven.” Her mouth gaped, searching for words. “I-I can’t imagine what you went through, Henry. The blast—oh, it shoved me back as if someone had struck me. And I still can’t hear well.” She held a gloved hand over one ear. “The rubble coming down made it all the more terrifying. Like…like the end of days.”
He nodded, understanding completely. “The ringing in your ears will ease after some time. Are you sure you’re not hurt elsewhere?” His gaze raked up and down her form to be sure. She was covered in dust, yes, but was there any blood?
“I’m fine. J-Just shaken.”
After another breath to calm his racing thoughts, he squeezed her waist. “Do you remember any details about the man you saw? His face, his clothing. Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”
“I think so.” Her eyes narrowed as if already trying to remember.
Henry blew out a long, careful breath. “Don’t be too obvious, but when you can, look around casually and see if you spothim anywhere.” There was always the chance he’d waited to see the destruction he’d caused.
Amelia’s eyes widened with horror. “You think he might still behere?”
“Often those who intend to cause damage remain in the vicinity to see if they were successful. To watch what happens when the police arrive.” To laugh at law enforcement’s attempts to find the guilty. Some were even so bold as to give the police false information, pretend to be a witness. But he didn’t mention that out loud.
“How terrible.” She shook her head, wincing slightly. “What kind of...awful person would want to do such things?” She eased farther back and glanced around, her movements casual just as Henry had asked.
He nodded, though she wasn’t looking at him, wanting her to know she was doing exactly what he wanted and unlikely to draw suspicion if anyone observed them. “Initial reports suggest no one was killed, thank goodness.”
“I didn’t see anyone seriously injured, though I haven’t gone looking.” She glanced at him and then away again, her gaze carefully sweeping the area.
