It took far longer than Henry would’ve liked, but three-quarters of an hour later, they arrived. Was it too late? Had she already departed?
There was only one way to find out.
With the victims whose lives she’d taken firmly in mind, Henry surveyed the dock, realizing he felt deeper empathy for those poor patients after his own injuries—and an even stronger desire to claim justice for the families that the victims had left behind. But the bustling scene before them was intimidating and the afternoon waning.
How on earth would they ever find her amidst the chaos?
Numerous tall masts and black-funneled steamers cluttered the skyline. Dockworkers shouted to one another over the clank of iron. Passengers coming and going pulled trunks and carpetbags alongside them. Carriages lined the edge of the dock, both picking up and dropping off passengers. People everywhere, constantly moving, in a never-ending stream.
Fletcher directed the constables to opposite ends of the dock. “—and move into the middle. Look for any passenger ship bound for America. And hurry!” The sergeant pointed at a nearby steamship with gang planks stretched to the dock, only to have his words cut off by the harsh shriek of a steam whistle. He glared at the vessel, then tried again once it ended. “I’ll start with that ship and work toward that end.”
“I’ll try this one.” Henry gestured to the one beside it. “And move in the opposite direction.”
Henry strode toward the ship, the scent of rotting fish and coal smoke making his nose twitch, Henry headed to it. He caught the attention of a man with a ledger book tucked under his arm, moving toward the gangplank. “Where is this ship headed?”
“Liverpool.”
With a nod of thanks, Henry ran to the next one, ignoring the way his ribs protested in response. Damn his injury—would he ever truly heal? Based on the elegant lettering that spelled the ship’s name and its well-maintained appearance, the vessel would appeal to someone like Dr. Thorne.
He stepped around a dockworker hauling crates on a wagon then hurried closer to the ship, searching for anyone who might be able to tell him where it was bound—or whether it had just docked. A closer look at the gangplank confirmed that trunks and bags were being hauled on rather than off.
“Where is this ship going?” he asked a man who was hoisting a trunk onto his shoulder.
“New York,” came the muffled reply before the man continued on his way.
Perfect. Now what?
Henry scanned the railing where some passengers who’d already boarded had gathered, no doubt to wave goodbye to those they were leaving behind. New York was a long way away; for some, this would not be a return trip. But it was impossible to recognize anyone from this distance.
He fished his whistle from his pocket only to hesitate. What if this wasn’t the only ship bound for America? He didn’t want to pull his men until he knew more.
His best option would be to board himself and find the captain or another officer with a passenger list to see if Dr. Thorne was on it—though of course she could be traveling under another name. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?
Henry turned toward the nearest gangplank, only to be directed by a shouting man to another. Frustration simmering, he rushed in that direction—only to halt at the sight of a familiar, well-dressed woman surrounded by trunks standing on the dock, apparently waiting for assistance to board.
The single streak of gray hair, visible below her small, black hat, confirmed her identity.
Satisfaction swept through Henry as he drew near. “Going somewhere, Dr. Thorne? Or perhaps I should say,MissThorne?”
She spun around to stare at him, eyes wide in disbelief…and with a small measure of fear in their depths, if he wasn’t mistaken.
“Inspector Field.” She glanced around, whether to see if anyone accompanied him or to gather her wits, he couldn’t decide. “Whatever brings you to this dock?”
“I think you can guess.” Henry looked at the ship. “Planning to leave England?”
“Yes.” She lifted her chin. “I am. An opportunity in America has arisen. One I can’t miss.”
“Oh? What about Hollowgate Heights and your patients there?” He didn’t mention that they’d closed it down earlier in the day. She’d learn that soon enough.
“My great work there is done. I’ve taken the sanatorium as far as I can, it’s up to others to continue our work.” Once again, asmall tick appeared at the corner of her eye. “The time has come for me to move on.”
Henry smiled then blew his whistle, loud and sharp, causing Miss Thorne to startle. “It’s too late for that. The scheme has come to an end, and you’re not going anywhere.”
“Scheme?” She had the audacity to look affronted. “Whatever are you speaking of?”
“We know everything. Andrew Collins was kind enough to share the details, along with one of your nurses. Tobias Barnes has also been arrested.”
“Who?” Her eyes narrowed as if she were unfamiliar with the name, even as her face paled.
