If he hadn’t been closely watching, he would’ve missed the pause as her focus held on something—or someone—in the distance before she looked at Henry again, this time with focus—and renewed fear. “He’s there. Across the street. To the left of a black door with red trim. He’s still wearing the long brown coat.”
“Excellent. You’re certain it’s him?” Urgency filled him once again, but he forced himself to move slowly. Methodically. Calmly.
“Yes. He left the bundle by the door.”
Henry didn’t turn to look. Not yet. “Fletcher?”
“Yes, sir?” Fletcher walked closer after finishing speaking with another victim. He glanced at Amelia, horror gleaming in his eyes. “Mrs. Greystone! I didn’t know—are you all right?”
She smiled weakly. “I am. Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Mrs. Greystone witnessed a man leave a bundle of some sort near the newspaper office door,” Henry advised in a calm tone. “He’s across the street near a black door with red trim and is wearing a long brown coat.”
“Is he?” Fletcher smiled grimly. “Convenient of him. How would you like to proceed?”
“We can’t allow him to escape. Alert Perkins discreetly as he’s nearby, and the three of us will approach him from all sides.”
“Right.” Fletcher gave a single nod. “I’ll have a word with the constable and continue down the street, then wait for your signal and advise the constable to do the same.”
“Take care, gentlemen,” Amelia whispered, eyes wide with concern.
Henry didn’t like to leave her when she was still upset, but with luck, it wouldn’t be for long—and would bring a little justice to the scene. He only hoped he would be of assistance despite his injuries. The idea of giving chase was far from appealing but, if they caught the man, well worth any additional pain it caused.
Fletcher turned away, walking toward Perkins. The constable started to turn toward the target only to halt when Fletcher barked out an order. Then the sergeant continued down the street, acting as if he were taking inventory of the scene rather than searching for anyone in particular.
Henry waited for Fletcher to look his way then started forward, still not looking directly at their target. He didn’t want the man warned he was being surrounded.
He nodded at a few people he passed as he crossed the street, trying to keep his manner casual. Inspector Perdy gestured in an imperious manner for Henry to join him, but he merely shook his head. The other inspector scowled but he’d catch on to what was happening soon enough.
Out of the corner of his eye Henry saw their target straighten, glancing between the three moving in his direction.Now.Henry sprinted toward him with the hope Perkins and Fletcher would do the same, pain burning across his ribs with every step.
The man hesitated, clearly uncertain which way to go, then bolted between Henry and Perkins. Apparently Fletcher’s larger size appeared too much of a threat.
“Hold!” Henry took great pleasure in catching the man, grimacing as he grabbed his arm and holding tight until Perkins quickly joined him, Fletcher a few seconds later.Yes.
“Here now! What’s this about?” Their quarry tugged at his arm to no avail. “Release me!”
“We have questions for you.” Henry almost wished the man would fight so he’d have an excuse to punch him. The thought that this man was responsible for what could have been a massacre… And Amelia in the mix.
“What about?” The man stared at them, chin lifted with open belligerence, his Irish accent noticeable.
“The bombing,” Henry said tersely. “A witness states you left something in front of the newspaper office.”
“I cannae help ye wi’ that. I came when I heard the blast.” The hard gleam in the man’s eyes suggested he wasn’t about to admit to anything.
“And our witness says otherwise,” Fletcher growled.
“My word against theirs,” the suspect countered boldly. “Release me, I say!”
“Take him in for questioning,” Henry ordered. Satisfaction filled him as Fletcher and Perkins patted him down for weapons, then cuffed him.
“I tol’ ye I know nothing. This is harassment!” The man struggled while yelling to any who would listen. “Help! This isn’t right!” He turned to Henry as he shouted, his gaze swinging past to something in the distance.
Henry turned, his stomach dropping at the sight of Amelia watching them. An older, well-dressed man with a beard was speaking to her, but he didn’t recognize him.
“Is that your witness?” Their suspect spat on the ground and had the audacity to grin. “A woman? You got nothing on me, I’ll be free within the hour.”
Anger burned inside Henry and he stepped closer to block the man’s view. Though the suspect was only one cog in the wheel of those involved, arresting him was a start. With some convincing, he might lead them to the next link in the chain, all the way to the top. “Take him away.”
