“I was told there was a laundry delivery made here,” I inquired.
He nodded. “Two days ago. She left this mornin’, said she would be back. But I’ve not seen her. Is there anything wrong, miss?”
“Did she say where she was goin’?” Brodie asked.
The manager shook his head. “She kept to herself while she was here, had meals sent up. Seemed in a hurry when she left,like she was afraid of somethin’. Been here thirty years. I know the look, seen it before.”
“Do ye want to leave a message?” he inquired.
As if she was afraid of something? Or someone.
I had hoped we might learn something here, but it was not the first time Adele had disappeared. I was certain she would not return. But where would she go?
What had caused her to leave? Had something or someone frightened her? Had she heard rumors about the attack on Burke at the Old Bell?
I thanked him and we left the George.
It was well into the afternoon when we returned to the office. Mr. Cavendish met us on the sidewalk. There was a message for Brodie from Mr. Dooley.
He read the note. “He wants to meet at the Yard. It seems our ‘old friend’ has been making inquiries about the attack on Burke at the Old Bell.”
That could only mean Abberline. This could add a complication to the investigation. Brodie frowned.
“I should meet with him. I can inform him of our visit this morning to the inn. There is no need for ye to go as well,” he added. “I know yer feelin’s about Abberline. Ye might be tempted to take a shot at the man.”
Truer words had never been spoken. The man wasdespicable, that was the only word for it. In that first inquiry case, with my sister’s life in danger, he had refused to investigate information we’d learned.
He considered her disappearance nothing more than a ‘disagreement’ between a husband and wife, common enough, as he had insultingly put it.
However, it was no common disagreement, and there was reason to believe her lifewasin danger, particularly after her maid’s body was pulled from the river. Abberline had refused to investigate further.
And then there was his resentment of Brodie that had very nearly ruined him and sent him to prison, a convolution of lies fueled by old resentments.
Brodie knew me quite well. I might be tempted to take a shot at the man if I were to encounter him.
He motioned for Mr. Jarvis to wait. “There is someone else who may have information that could be useful.”
There was no need for him to explain further, the vague words he chose conveyed a great deal.
“Mr. Brown?” I replied.
A man Brodie knew from the past, with a somewhat disreputable reputation, a name that was a disguise for his real name, which no one actually knew, with a reputation for business in all sorts of enterprises, mostly illegal. And someone we had previously done ‘business’ with when other efforts failed.
Or more specifically, I hadoncecontacted and worked with. Brodie deliberately kept a distance between Mr. Brown and myself.
“Dealings with the man are not for ye,” he had told me. “The less ye know, the better off ye are.”
As for his dealings with Mr. Brown?
“We understand one another,” Brodie had replied at the time. And no more was said, although from bits and pieces that I had learned of his past, I assumed what that meant.
Not a reassuring thought. And now he was planning on meeting with him once again. I did wonder about that ‘understanding,’ but did not ask. It was undoubtedly one of those things he did not want me to know about.
“Do be careful,” I told him in parting. “I prefer you in one piece.”
Bruises and broken ribs notwithstanding. There was that half smile at one corner of his mouth.
“Careful as church mice.”
