“Thank you, but I ought to go,” she said as warmly as she could manage when she felt so suddenly out of place. Adrian glanced between her and Alexander, and whatever he saw made him resettle into his seat.
Alexander stepped back so she could enter the hall and followed her to the door. “I’ll walk with you to the bus station.”
Saffron hadn’t noticed how late it had become until they reached the street, and it was all but silent. Distant rumbles of automobiles and the gentle tap of their heels on the pavement were the only sounds as they went toward the Euston Square bus stop.
It might have been quiet on the street, but in Saffron’s head, there was a riot of thought. Adrian’s story mixed with his revelations about himself and Alexander, but one question kept surfacing in her mind, and she spoke it aloud to Alexander.
“Why does Inspector Green believe Adrian has something to do with Petrov’s death?” she asked. “There has to be something. Some connection. It can’t be only because they were in the same train compartment.”
They paused on the street corner as a messenger slipped past on a bicycle.
“I don’t know,” Alexander said, not looking at her. They crossed the street. Alexander’s long legs ate up the distance, and Saffron had to scurry to keep up with him.
“There has to be a reason, Alexander,” she insisted. “Inspector Green doesn’t just make decisions based on no evidence!”
He glanced at her. “Dr. Maxwell—”
“The inspector arrested Dr. Maxwell because he had a motive to poison Dr. Henry and access and knowledge of a unique toxin.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Youwere the one to convince me of his possible guilt, if you’ll recall. And now, Adrian is still under suspicion despite nothing in Inspector Green’s notes connecting him to the actual murder. It has to be something else.”
He didn’t reply, and they began walking again.
“He mentioned he doesn’t come to London much,” Saffron said. “Why not?”
“He doesn’t get on with our father,” he muttered, then shook his head. “You’ve done far more than I could have hoped, thank you.”
Frustration had her gnashing her teeth together. He was shutting her out again, and it was going to prevent her from doing anything useful. She’d already wanted to help, but speaking to Adrian and seeing the lurking helplessness behind his smiles, she had to do something.
They reached the bus stop and came to a rather abrupt halt. After a beat of silence, in which Saffron realized Alexander wouldn’t be leaving until she’d boarded the bus, she asked, “Have you found a lawyer?”
Alexander ran a hand through his hair. “Adrian refuses to hire someone who might get word back to our father that he’s in trouble. He’s a solicitor.”
Saffron bit her lip. The only solicitor she knew was Mr. Feyzi, who worked for her family. “I know someone who may be able to help,” Saffron said slowly. “I don’t believe he handles these sorts of cases, but he might be able to offer advice. I will search up his card and give it to you tomorrow.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
The bus ambled around the corner. She told Alexander goodbye, then hopped aboard. He was out of sight before the bus pulled away from the pavement.
CHAPTER15
When Saffron knocked on Alexander’s office door the next day, he was ready.
Ready to accept this unexpected offer of her assistance with a lawyer, ready to do something productive to help Adrian, and ready to put aside some of his misgivings about being more open with Saffron.
He did not like being wrong, but when he was, he admitted it freely. He’d been wrong in his behavior toward her before, for which he’d apologized sincerely, and he was beginning to realize that the way he’d handled Adrian’s situation and personal history had not been the right one. He’d nearly destroyed Saffron’s regard for him with his impulsivity and jealousy; he’d not make the same mistake again.
Not to mention that the rebuke Adrian had given him upon his return to the flat the previous evening had been thorough and, Alexander suspected, had been partially motivated by Adrian’s hurt. He’d seen how Alexander had spirited Saffron away from him twice now, how irate he’d been to find her at the kitchen table listening to Adrian spill God only knew what about his own life or Alexander’s. Adrian could be trusted to be candid but not prudent. Alexander could only be trusted to be the opposite. And Saffron thought his unwillingness to speak had to do with her.
He rose at the first sound of her knock and was opening the door before the next knock landed.
She wore her lavender coat and matching hat. She’d not put off giving him the information about the solicitor, and he felt that was a positive sign.
“Good morning,” he said, stepping back to admit her.
She didn’t move forward. She dipped her hand into her handbag and brought out a worn card instead. “Good morning.” She offered it to him.
He took it, looking down at the name on the worn cream paper. It was good quality paper, with an engraved name upon it with an address in Marylebone.
“Feyzi?” he read, peering up at her.
