39
Adrian arrived at The Toothless Cat Inn well in advance of the scheduled time, just to be sure the killer wouldn’t be there to see him.The late afternoon light was beginning to dim.A group of dockyard workers passed him on their way in.He took a moment to survey the building’s exterior and its location before he followed, just in case an escape route would be required later.
“Has a room been rented under the name of Carmichael?”Adrian slipped a few coins to the innkeeper when the man crossed his arms and held his tongue.The faintest nod confirmed it.“Which one?”
Additional coins got him the answer he wanted and made sure the occupant in the adjoining room was moved elsewhere so Adrian could have it instead.A maid showed him to the small space which was crowded by a simple bed, table, and chair.
Adrian crossed to the window and peered out into the murky side street that ran between the tavern and the building next door.The ground wasn’t far – he could easily make the jump if needed, but he couldn’t expect Samantha to do the same.The only exit available to her would be through the tavern.
Raising his gaze, he spotted a woman through one of the opposite windows.She pulled a small boy into her lap and proceeded to feed him, the oil lamp on the table they sat at making the pair stand out against the dark shadows behind them.
The room to the left of them showed an old man reading a book by candlelight while the room to the right remained dark, either because the occupants weren’t yet home or had already gone to bed.
Satisfied nothing looked out of place, he turned to the maid.“What’s on the menu this evening?”
“There’s a mutton stew, roast chicken, or pork on the spit.All with boiled potatoes and stewed mushrooms.”
“I’ll have the pork and a mug of ale,” Adrian told her.
It didn’t take long for the food to arrive, the fragrant aroma filling the room and increasing his hunger.He paid the maid and waited for her to leave before taking a seat at the table and digging into his meal.
* * *
Like a hunter tracking its prey, the Mayfair Murderer stood in the darkness, patiently waiting to see if his bait would have the desired effect.He leaned against a tree – one of many that stood in the center of Wilton Crescent – his gaze firmly trained on Avernail House, where Nigel Lawrence resided.
The letter he’d paid a young scamp to deliver had been filled with passion and longing.It spoke of a desperate need for comfort, the uncertainty of what was to come, and a plea for help in the face of potential rejection.Signed with Miss Carmichael’s name, it offered Nigel exactly what he’d been dreaming of since the first time he’d seen her.
He’d not have the strength to resist.
Sure enough, the front door opened at nine thirty.Casually attired, Nigel stepped down onto the pavement and headed east.The murderer followed at a distance, all the way to Oxford Street where Nigel hailed a hackney.
The next one stopped in response to his own raised hand.
“Where to?”asked the driver.
“Just follow that carriage.”If his suspicions were correct, Croft would believe Nigel to be the killer.He’d attack him, creating the perfect excuse to banish Croft from existence.
If he was wrong, Miss Carmichael’s immoral nature would be confirmed, in which case he’d take great pleasure in spilling her blood.
His stomach tightened in anticipation.He hoped she’d be the one whose life he claimed.It had already been too long since he’d last known the rousing control of turning bliss into terror.
* * *
Adrian paced the constrictive space of his rented room with impatience.Restlessness kept him from sitting still.He’d finished his meal an hour ago and had since been waiting for something to happen.
During which he’d turned over every decision he’d made this past week a thousand times.He should have done this without Samantha.Involving her had been selfish and stupid.But she’d convinced him and he’d agreed because her plan had seemed so easy.Until it came to the moment of truth and every conceivable thing that could go wrong began playing out in his head.
Gritting his teeth, he checked the time on his pocket watch.Still five minutes until the designated hour.He ought to meet her when she arrived, inform her he’d changed his mind, send her home.
If any harm came to her, he’d never forgive himself.
He shoved his watch into his pocket and started toward the door, only to pause at the sound of footsteps in the hallway.Then came the muffled sound of Samantha’s voice as she thanked whoever had shown her upstairs.
It was too late.Adrian’s gut clenched.The plan was already underway.
* * *
The room Samantha entered was dimly lit by her oil lamp’s low-burning flame.A dry and musty smell tempted her to open the window, but the air she’d inhaled in the street outside made her reconsider.Smoky, with a lingering stench of refuse, it would be worse than the dust and mildew she presently breathed.
