Kehinde smiled, all dimples and clever eyes. “If you’re certain… but you should be careful who you trust, Miss Elderwood. Even more so, those you follow into dark places.”
Elswyth accepted the gentle rebuke in silence. Perhaps she had been naïve to allow herself to wind up alone with a man she barely knew in a place where another woman had been murdered not long before. But if Kehinde had not been there, what would have happened to her? It was becoming increasingly clear that she could not find her sister on her own. She needed to be careful who she trusted, yes, but she needed allies, too.
“I will be more cautious in the future, Kehinde. And thank you. For coming to my aid.”
Kehinde shrugged and sipped his tea. “It would not have been necessary if you had respected your uncle’s wishes and stayed inside.”
“And yet we learned so much.”
“Such as? From where I sit, we have little more than eldren tales and a ruined gown.”
“Persephone’s gown,” Elswyth said firmly. “I am not mistaken. It was a gift from our father and embroidered with elderwood branches. Persephone was in the Rows the night she was murdered. I am sure of it.”
A chill settled over his features. He looked to the end of the table, where the gown lay spread across the wood. Now the red stain over the stomach was plain to see, even beneath the brown and the black filth.
“You’re certain it’s hers?” Kehinde said.
“I know it, Kehinde.”
“And you understand what this means, then?”
“Yes,” Elswyth said, her voice shaking. “It means that something horrible has happened to her.” Somewhere deep inside herself, Elswyth had hidden a belief that her sister might still be alive. That everyone else had been mistaken. But here was Persephone’s gown, and it was stained with blood. Evidence that she had suffered and died in a filthy alleyway so very far from home.
“What I don’t understand is why,” Elswyth said. “What possible reason would she have to visit the Rows?”
“We do not know how she arrived there. But we know how she left,” Kehinde said.
“The black coach,” Elswyth said. “The one the girl described.”
He nodded. “A fine black coach. Gillie said that she saw Persephone entering it. Why would she enter a coach with a stranger?”
Elswyth thought for a moment. “If she was running from something, or bleeding like the girl said, I suppose she would have entered any coach she could.”
“That, or she knew the person inside,” Kehinde said. He looked at her significantly, and she understood.
“Or at the very least, she trusted them because their coach was expensive and she believed she had a reason to,” Elswyth replied.
“Precisely. Now the question is, was the person in the coach the one who murdered her?”
“It would seem logical. But then why was Persephone already bleeding when she got into the coach?” Elswyth said. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It also doesn’t prove any sort of connection to the Reaper, as you claim,” Kehinde said.
Elswyth hesitated, her fingers tying off a stitch. “I suppose. But what are the chances that two killers would be hunting women in the Rows at the same time?”
“London is a dangerous city.”
Elswyth inserted the needle again, perhaps too quickly. “But then there is the matter of timing. One victim a month since September, save for the month of November. The very same month Persephone disappeared. I know that this is not enough on its own. But when I went to the police station to discuss the bouquet, the detective assigned to Persephone’s disappearance is also the detective assigned to the Reaper murders. Why? What do they have in common?”
Kehinde considered. “That is curious, yes. But it is still within the realm of coincidence.”
Elswyth shook her head while she tied off another stitch. “And it felt as though Inspector Reed was deliberately trying to scare me away. I assume it is because I am a woman. He does not believe I should be involving myself. But he knows something. Something he will not share.”
“Perhaps… or perhaps there is another reason he does not want you involved. And why the killer’s coach was so fine.”
“What do you…” Elswyth started, but the words died in her mouth as the pieces fell together. “The Reaper is a nobleman. That’s why Persephone got into his coach. That’s why Inspector Reed tried to scare me away. He’s trying to cover up what really happened toPersephone and the other women. Someone—someone powerful—has coerced his silence.”
“Yes. Someone very noble or very rich,” Kehinde said. “Most often, when a person is murdered, it is by someone they know. Persephone was nobility. It would follow that her killer was also nobility.”
