I lifted the cup and took a careful sip, mindful of the pain in my cheek. The coffee was hot and strong.
“Was he able to tell you anything about the man who was seen the night Dory was murdered?”
“Not as yet, but then it was the first we spoke of it. He would have thought nothing of it before, as these sorts of things...”
Happen frequently. There was no need for him to say it. These sorts of things happened all too often in the Old Town.
“He will have his people make inquiries.”
“Can he be trusted?” Not the first time I had asked that question.
“No.” Not the first time he had said that.
“But I made it worthwhile.”
I was almost afraid to ask how he had done that, yet reminded myself that these things were more than familiar to him. There was a faint smile.
“Those who frequent his taverns and brothels have a particular appreciation for good whisky. I managed to see that he had more than enough.”
I suspected there was more to it, but he did not share that.
He took more coffee when Elizabeth returned. I did the same, as well as taking a biscuit from the plate. It was quite exceptional. She smiled, then returned to the kitchen.
“There is a Chinese woman who takes in laundry from those of us in the building,” she announced as she went to the door of the flat. “I will see that she has yers as well.”
“There is no need,” I told her.
“There’s a need if ye want clean clothes, dear. She takes care of me laundry as well. She earns good pay that helps her family. Ye wouldna want to deprive her of food or tea?”
I sensed it was an argument I could not win. And it was a fact that I had brought just one change of clothes from London, other than what I now wore.
“I can pay her.”
“Of course, dear.” And she was gone with my clothes.
Silence filled the small flat. I took a bite of biscuit, then a sip of coffee.
He had not asked, yet questions were there.
“I was able to learn information about the woman from the Close who was found murdered in the Grassmarket.”
I did not go into detail about sneaking a look at the police report when Inspector Landry had stepped away.
“I found the vendor’s name...” I caught the look Munro gave me and chose to ignore it.
“He works in the Grassmarket,” I continued. “He was able to show me where she was found.”
I didn’t know what Elizabeth might have shared with him about my return yesterday and chose to say nothing of the encounter at the market.
My bag remained where I had obviously left it when I returned the previous evening. I retrieved it, pulled out my notebook and opened it, then pulled out that badly stained feather.
“I found this at the bottom of the crate where her body was found.”
As I handed it to him, there was a shadowy image as if someone stood at my shoulder. It was Meggy Adams as she walked through the marketplace, stopped, argued with one of the vendors, and then moved on with a disagreeable word...and a man.
A memory of the things I’d learned from Mr. Meeks?
Mikaela Forsythe once said that once things were seen, they were always there, like a photograph.
